''I'm nervous," said frontman Frank Black before a set that featured such abstract fare as ''Bone Machine," ''Velouria," and ''Subbacultcha" stripped clean of flesh, muscle, and much of its dynamics. Some songs, however, survived the leap from rock arena to folk fest . ''Cactus Tree," basically a blues, translated to the language of strumming and picking with its stormy heart intact, as did ''Wave of Mutilation," which Black sang in a gauzy near-whisper, and the twisted romp ''I Bleed." The band found time during its two rehearsals for the Newport gig to learn one actual folk song, ''Been All Around the World," a galumphing tune about shooting up.
''The last note felt really good," said guitarist Joey Santiago after the set, his relief underlining the novelty value of the Pixies-at-Newport concept.
Yesterday's headliner Elvis Costello was, by contrast, a natural for Newport. While best known for his early punk-pop anthems, Costello has been investigating roots music throughout his career. He reached back to 1977 for ''Stranger in the House," a country and western tune from ''My Aim is True," and performed a handful of blues-saturated songs from last year's ''The Delivery Man." The setting, however, didn't prevent Costello and his crack band the Imposters from rocking hard, burrowing into tender ballads, and flashing serious soul chops.
Costello was an ideal figurehead for a festival that continues to broaden its scope. Music fans looking for something genuinely fresh found it in Krystle Warren, a 23-year-old singer-songwriter from Kansas City whose earthy, intricate songs and dusky singing herald the arrival of an exciting voice in the folk scene. Another young performer, 25-year-old former busker and fretboard-slapping sprite Kaki King, accomplished the formidable task of making an acoustic guitar sound thrilling and new.
The Nebraska collective Bright Eyes, led by indie hero Conor Oberst, joined with recent touring partners M. Ward and Jim James of My Morning Jacket for an occasionally jubilant, frequently meandering, always intriguing song circle that lassoed the increasingly elusive folk spirit of collaboration and community.
