I don't know if you dig the Pixies, but LoudQuietLoud, the documentary of their reunion tour in 2004, cuts. Not for the usual reasons. Nobody's loaded. Nobody gets laid. No voices get raised. Instead you get four uncommunicative people made even less communicative by time and scars and fear thrown back together for various reasons who meet scary waves of obsessive fan love and devotion. Kim Deal is just holding on, trying to stay sober and looking like a Durant Street hooker. Joey Santiago is trying make ends meet for his two small children doing soundtrack documentaries but desperate for diaper money. David Lovering is performing some kind of weird science magic that screams lonely theater and praying to the gods of gay for a moneymaking reunion. Frank Black is bitter over his failed career and ambivalent about going on tour for an adoring audience who only wants to hear the songs he wrote when he was in his twenties. None of them are likeable, but no clear villains emerge, either. You root only for their humanity, even if you struggle to care about them personally. The live clips are perfectly interspersed with behind the scenes and archival footage, and the juxtaposition of backstage ennui moments before entering a stage in front of thousands of zealous devotees has never been rendered more poignantly. Look, if you liked the Pixies or are only entering middle age, get on this. It moves, if only in oddly disconcerting ways. Never has rock and roll been less sexy, but weirdly human. Yea, I'd probably rather watch another VH1 Fleetwood Mac episode, but this works.