L-R: Charles Thompson, Kim Deal, David Lovering, Joey Santiago

I pronounce today Joey Santiago Day, in honor of Pixies' guitarist.

Everybody pins Pixies' awesomeness on lead songwriter Charles Thompson, aka Frank Black, and it's true that in its genius late '80s run, when Pixies inadvertently created alternative rock, he wrote those fantastic compacted/fragmented psycho-pop songs. And the famous sex 'n' violence 'n' mythology lyrics.

And it's Thompson's singing voice most people think of when they think of Pixies. On the song "Tame" from the album "Doolittle"—which Pixies will play in entirety Thursday and Friday Nov. 12 and 13 at the Paramount—he bellows from his bowels, eyes rolling back; on "Silver," he cries like a cat.

But Santiago does all that on the guitar.

Another "Doolittle" track, "No. 13 Baby," prominently features Santiago's signature move: alternating between two high-held eighth notes and bending strings so one dips more than the other.

The two notes feed one whine, and as Santiago bends, he flirts with the beat frequency created by their proximity to each other.

It's many things, but it's one thing, and functions as a harmony to the rest of the elements of a given song. Santiago controls his note-bending with great presence, descending from above.

He can also be feather-light with it. At the end of "No. 13 Baby," the singing stops and the other three members of Pixies (Kim Deal, bass; David Lovering, drums; Thompson, vocals and guitar) play loops, chipping in on a soothing, melancholic figure.

In a classic Pixies move, it's missing half a measure so it sounds pretty but feels a little off. But it's gorgeous, the loveliest Pixies ever sounded.

Santiago tiptoes with his own loop, a few notes here, a few notes there, really taking his time, and when he slides into the jam, it's like a satellite into orbit. He takes the outro of "No. 13 Baby" to another level, and you never want it to stop.

Santiago's guitar style is to traditional guitar playing what Zach Galifianakis' comedy style is to traditional comedy.

It stands in direct opposition to all the cliché BS that went before it, the rampant wankery of the '80s, and channels fury with uncanny calm.