The key to Frank Black's best work? Where most rock harps away on a narrowly conceived, trendily downbeat version of "reality", our former lead Pixie realizes that it's a path covered with way too many shoeprints. These songs are rhapsodies for undiscovered worlds, states of mind, and stretches of space that he imagines are out there SOMEWHERE; an alternate universe full of untouched treasure that just HAS to be as bright and peachy as this album's cover, in contrast to the stark grey boredom of everyday "reality". Frank replaces the axiom "write what you know" with "write what you DREAM", and this is what puts his songs' starting points several yards ahead (and to the left) of the average songwriter.

He aches to ditch the real L.A. for some cosmic doppelganger that's only hinted at it black-and-white flicks, feels tied down by the laws of the earth's gravity, and cranks up the Ramones over the whiny logic of mere ordinary realists. This disc may not grab you at first, especially if you've foisted "Doolittle" and "Bossanova" upon passersby and neighbors as much as I have, but it will... And I haven't even gotten to the multi-layered guitar crunch, or the perfect wisdom of his "Hang Onto Your Ego", one of the best cover songs in ANY universe, alternate or otherwise.

This is where Frank Black physically threw all the Pixies fans off the bandwagon, and he's never looked back. I've looked back, though, and I can say that it is amazing how consistent Frank Black's solo career has been. Now almost a decade into it, he has courageously and stubbornly followed his own course, completely unconcerned with passing trends and q-factors. Frank Black, the album, sets the blueprint for everything that follows. Cryptic lyrics, usually based around some interesting notion from Mr. Black's apparently voracious need to read, constructed overtop a near-groundbreaking sonic collision between British glam, American punk, and the old twisted roots of rock'n'roll. It's a tougher trick than anyone gives him credit for.

Frank Black is more a disconnected group of songs than his succeeding albums. "Los Angeles", a thrashy rocker that changes gears halfway through and turns into near-majestic melancholy, isn't about the city in California. "I Heard Ramona Sing" is a veiled tribute to the Ramones. "Czar" is about John Denver's need for a personal stash of gas during the US oil crisis. He'd get more slyly conceptual on later albums ( Teenager of the Year and The Cult of Ray had their sci-fi motifs, while Frank Black and the Catholics seems to be based on Gerald Messadie's The History of the Devil), but the randomness of this venture seems completely appropriate as a first step in a very interesting, bravely iconoclastic career.

Like all of Frank Black's work, this one's as a treasure.

He delivers the goods: alternately grainy rocking blasters and melodic roller coasters of fun and games worth every second.

I think Frank Black struck a deal with the universe long ago. He has access to all the riffs and elusive harmonies - not to mention radically cool, mysterious lyrics left off limits to all the pop stars who try way harder.

Frank Black has certainly evolved as an artist, which is evidenced on later discs than this, but going back to this one time and time again proves entertaining beyond belief.

Rock on you crazy, brilliant diamond. You bring us so much audible and emotional pleasure.

Frank Black's first solo album is a must have for any fan of rock music. Frank Black makes a great debut outside of the Pixies with a strong, eclectic mix of songs. The opening song "Los Angeles" is exceptionally good, but the album continues with other greats such as "Hang On To Your Ego" and "Ten Percenter." I heard this album first back in 1993, but I never owned a copy until recently. "Frank Black" and "Teenager of the Year" (another excellent older album of Frank Black's) have been in my CD player quite a bit. The music still sounds fresh and creative - a testament to Frank Black's songwriting skills.

One of my favorite albums of all times - beautiful, grungy, brilliant.

One of his best works.