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ALBUM OF THE WEEK: Kim Deal - "Nobody Loves You More"

by Christopher J. Lee

There is a lot of love for Kim Deal out there. As one of the founders of the Pixies, she added an element of beguiling unpredictability to their canonical early albums like Surfer Rosa and Doolittle. Songs like “Gigantic,” “Tony’s Theme,” and “There Goes My Gun” foregrounded her uniquely feminine/unfeminine vocals. Her gender in a male-centric scene stood out, and she stage managed it to perfection. For a time, Deal and Black Francis brought out the best in each other, trading guitar riffs and singing duties that contributed to the acerbic sound the Pixies forged, which drew from bands like Wire, Gang of Four, Buzzcocks, and Hüsker Dü. You can hear the chummy, step-sibling-like chemistry she and Francis had for a time through the studio banter included by Steve Albini on Surfer Rosa’s “I’m Amazed.” Before the original version of the Pixies imploded, Deal had already formed the Breeders with Tanya Donelly, Britt Walford, and Josephine Wiggs, releasing the excellent Pod in 1990 and the equally excellent EP Safari in 1992. The post-Pixies Last Splash resolutely established the band as more than a side gig – the lineup this time involved Jim MacPherson and Kelley Deal, Kim’s twin sister, which has since persisted – by finding a level of commercial success that had eluded even the Pixies. It also affirmed Deal’s reputation as an exceptional songwriter, if there were any questions on that front.

Jump thirty or so years. The Pixies released a new album, The Night the Zombies Came, this past October, and Deal has released her first solo album, Nobody Loves You More. The titles themselves message certain states of mind. The Night the Zombies Came tacitly genuflects toward the past with a mix that is aspirational and even haunted. Francis, Joey Santiago, David Lovering, and new bassist, Emma Richardson, still want to recover the glory of the band’s history but appear to recognize the dangerous allure of reviving what is long deceased. The result is an uneven LP with glimmers of the old, undead energy present, but without the bracing bipolar personality constituted by Francis and Deal that delivered edgy mood swings to their early recordings.

Nobody Loves You More goes in a completely different musical direction, though it is also about reflection, recovery, and reintroduction. It is also uneven, which may be an unavoidable truism for artists at their level and age. Deal similarly appeals to her established legacy with the Breeders, though, as a solo outing, she is clearly intent on making a personal statement this round. Advance press has framed this album as coming in the wake of the death of her parents, whom she took care of. Covid left her stranded in the Florida Keys, where she recorded demos. Not least, Albini, a close friend and collaborator who helped her recover from a period of alcoholism and drug addiction during the early 2000s, died suddenly this past May. Nobody Loves You More is therefore haunted in a different sense, even if the sound that hits you is the opposite of melancholic.

“I don’t know where I am, and I don’t care” is the first line of the title track, which starts the album. It amounts to a credo that animates the entirety of Nobody Loves You More. Deal has always been ballsy, and she remains so on this LP, albeit in a way that sources new instruments that in turn reveal unexpected sides of her. On “Nobody Loves You More,” Deal’s vocals are couched in lush strings, and there is a brass band interlude where a Gibson SG usually is. The second track, “Coast,” continues this feel-good vibe, having the kind of horn backing you might hear on a recent Mountain Goats album. The song “Are You Mine?” has a pedal steel guitar, and it has an old school, Roy Orbison ambiance. The original version, which possesses a more familiar, stripped-down atmosphere, was written back in 2011 and released in 2013. Another track on Nobody Loves You More, “Wish I Was,” is also from 2013. Its earlier iteration was all instrumental, and, in addition to lyrics, this revised version has better pacing and a fuller sound. The line that stands out is “Coming around is easy/coming down is rough.” It exemplifies how Deal lets her guard down in more ways than one on this LP. 

Nobody Loves You More is undoubtedly Deal’s most sincere album. Its warm and sunny tone has been widely noted – there is a pink flamingo on the LP’s sleeve like it’s a Christopher Cross album – and explained as a reflection of her unanticipated time in Florida. However, it might be more interesting to think about this recording beyond the Panama hat crowd and in relation to Brazilian tropicalismo and its approach to musical experimentation. Even better, one could argue that this equatorial element has long been threaded in her work. “Flipside” (with its surf guitar), “No Aloha,” and “Cannonball” (“the bong in this reggae song”), all from Last Splash (last splash!), could be said to prefigure this current orientation. The best track, though, may be the penultimate song on Nobody Loves You More, “Come Running.” Recorded with Albini, it departs from this sunlit thematic position, splitting the difference between the sanguine and the doubtful. 

Nobody Loves You More is a departure from Deal’s past work, but she hasn’t entirely abandoned herself. This album isn’t a complete reinvention. In addition to Albini, Britt Walford plays on several tracks, as do Kelley Deal and Jim Macpherson. The old gang is still around, at least in part. Nobody Loves You More brings to mind the later albums of David Bowie like Earthling from 1997 and Heathen from 2002. Bowie, in fact, covered the Pixies’ “Cactus” from Surfer Rosa on the latter album, a version that is largely faithful to the original. Like those LPs, Nobody Loves You More is evidence of an artist moving forward in their own eccentric direction, regardless of critical or popular reception. Like Bowie, Deal ultimately leans into her signature quality – her inimitable vocals – having reached a level of respect that has granted her the freedom to do whatever she wants. 

Beyond their difficulty, the series of mortal events that form the personal backdrop to Nobody Loves You More seem to have unburdened Deal, as reflected in this album’s warmly irreverent spirit. “Give me poetry and magic, and I’ll come running,” she dares toward the end on “Come Running,” yielding a sense of surrender but also renewed commitment. “Show me what’s not possible, and I’ll come running.”