Tag Archives: talking heads

#1071: Talking Heads – Pulled Up

A lot of Talking Heads songs I’ve written about on here tend to come from Fear of Music. There’s one other one post on here for a track from Remain in Light. There would be so many more songs on here, had the timing been different. Like in the case of tracks from the band’s debut album Talking Heads:77, I’ll only be able to cover ‘Uh-Oh Love Comes to Town’ and the closer ‘Pulled Up’. I’m a huge advocate for ‘The Book I Read’, ‘Don’t Worry About the Government’ and ‘First Week/Last Week… Carefree’. Alas, there time wasn’t ever to come on here. That might leave you asking, “Well, where’s the post for ‘Psycho Killer’, eh?” And the answer is, I rather prefer this live version to the one that you can listen to all the time on say, Spotify, for example.

But speaking of ‘Psycho Killer’, it comes before ‘Pulled Up’ on the record and, as a result, provides probably the most notable mood whiplash in the band’s discography. After a creepy-creep song with French lyrics and hectic breakdown ending about comes this great mood boosting, uplifting track about a person who’s been feeling low and down but has now gained a new lease of life via the help of an undisclosed presence. David Byrne sings from the perspective of a man, could even be himself – I don’t see why not, who’s now living a life of success and basically wants everyone to know how good he’s feeling. With a little help from friends/family/unrevealed sources, he’s found the strength to overcome his adversities and come out the other side with a brighter outlook on life. Seems too good to be true if we’re discussing a Talking Heads song here, but I think the track’s as genuine as it gets.

Tracks filled with those usual Talking Heads quirks. Byrne is as eccentric as ever in his vocal delivery, covering a range from restrained yelping melodies to wild, barbaric howls. He’s anything but inhibited when it comes to recording vocal takes. He even chuckles a little on the “There’s really no hurry, I’ll eat in a while” lyric, something which I always thought was because it doesn’t even attempt to rhyme with the line that comes before it. Only he’ll know what’s so funny about it, I guess. But in general, the whole track from its music to the tempo to all the ascending scales (a typical characteristic of songs about going up) make for such a relieving burst of energy, something that builds and builds until it finally releases with the strike of the song’s final chord and thus the album’s. Talking Heads album endings never disappointed, and they set the bar high on the first go.

#1011: Talking Heads – Paper

Hmmm… ‘Paper’. What can you say about Talking Heads’ ‘Paper’, the third track of Fear of Music, released in 1979? Well, you could argue that it’s one of the least talked about Talking Heads songs out there. I’ve given my take on a couple songs from that record in the past. I may have even mentioned in one of them that I consider Fear of Music to be my favourite Talking Heads album. Mainly because of the paranoia and David Byrne’s vocals. Now, why ‘Paper’ may be a Talking Heads song that flies under the radar, particularly in the context of Fear of Music, is that it’s somehow played remarkably straight. Sandwiched in between ‘Mind’ and ‘Cities’, ‘Paper’ sounds like a walk in the park. A walk in the park as David Byrne in 1979 probably wouldn’t be the same as the average person’s, though.

After ‘Mind’ establishes the something’s-not-quite-right theme that connects the whole album, with its odd guitar riffs and Byrne’s manic vocal delivery, ‘Paper’ reigns things in a little. The instrumental is more of your typical rock-band performance, though there may be some tape-echo/double-track production effect laid on to the scrambling guitar chords that arrive in the introduction and choruses. I’m not a producer, someone out there correct me if that’s wrong. Although you’re led to assume that the song may be a narrator’s fear/obsession with paper, the ‘paper’ in question is this huge metaphor about love affairs and short term/long term relationships. This is something I never would have even thought about, because I’m usually bumping my head to the busy, propelling performance by the four bandmembers. But yes, when Byrne’s telling us to hold onto the paper, or hold the paper up to the light, he’s really telling a listener to hold onto the relationship they have or take a moment to reflect on said relationship and really examine the truth behind it. Layers, people, layers.

Overall, I think ‘Paper’ is just fine. I can just about recall hearing Fear of Music for the first time back in about 2015 and remember the track jumping out at me straight away with those opening chords. The whole album was an immediate add to my home laptop. The track keeps those opening moments of the record flowing nicely, and is probably the last time on there that David Byrne sounds somewhat normal before becoming more and more unhinged as each track comes along. Should more people talk about it? I mean, it would be nice. But it’s always those ones that people don’t know so much that’ll surprise them.

#980: Talking Heads – Once in a Lifetime

One of the greatest memories I have associated with this track is when I was at Glastonbury in 2016 vibing at a silent disco really late in the night. ‘Once in a Lifetime’ came on, and it was clear that this stranger close to me was listening to it too. We were both high as anything, miming along to the words, mimicking David Byrne’s dance moves from the music video. A lot of shaking hands and laughing occurred; it was a good time. I sometimes get the slightest feeling that he was mostly surprised that here was this Black dude who was into Talking Heads. Gotta face it sometimes. But that slight negativity has always been overshadowed by that memory of acting like a fool and bonding through a fantastic song.

I have to tip my metaphorical hat to the music video. I’m sure that’s how I came across the song in the first place. It’s an example of those videos that somehow manage to enhance the music, or at least provide the perfect visual experience to accompany the music. Byrne is a lanky, jerky, sweating machine by the end of it and for good reason. Those are some moves he’s got going there, alongside some actions where he looks like he’s going through some severe muscle spasms, mainly conjured up by himself with some streamlining advised by choreographer Toni Basil.

So, no beating around the bush here, I think ‘Once in a Lifetime’ is one of the best songs of all time. Every time I hear it, a sense of wonderment always arises within me. This was recorded just over 40 years ago, but it transcends through time. Could be released this Friday or two years from now and would still turn heads and puzzle people like I’m sure it did all that time ago. In so many ways, it shouldn’t work. Amidst this bustling groove established by a two-note bassline, off-kilter drums and a bubbling keyboard soundscape, David Byrne preaches to the listener, telling us things that we might say to ourselves, places we may end up living in, marital situations that may puzzle us as we go through our lives only to then burst out into one of the most memorable singalong choruses ever, a move which I think is meant to symbolise that it’s fine to have all these moments of existential dread as it’s something that has gone on through generations. Just like water flowing underground or the days going into the next. Like Byrne says in its closing moments, time isn’t slowing down or something to be feared, it’s just this thing that remains constant, so the best thing we can all do is let it happen. Coming from someone as neurotic as David Byrne was in those days, I’d say that’s a lesson to be learned.

#844: Talking Heads – Mind

The album sleeve will tell you that ‘I Zimbra’ is the first song on Talking Heads’ Fear of Music. But for me, the record doesn’t truly start until the following number. With ‘Mind’, the whole ‘concept’ of being frightened/obsessed with the thing listed in the song titles properly begins. Here, David Byrne wants to know what’s going on in the listener’s head. Or at least to whoever/whatever he was thinking about at the time of writing the lyric.

After the party-conga-like tone of ‘I Zimbra’, ‘Mind’ brings things back down to earth with a hefty crash of a cymbal and a great reduction in tempo. There are these pleasant keyboards that fade in and out of the mix, but the guitars and bass play these odd notes that keep things sounding unusual. Then Byrne comes in. If you weren’t intrigued by the band elements, then it’s Byrne’s voice that will gain your attention. He sounds resigned at the beginning. Like he’s been examining us for a while and has started singing the song to pass the time. With every iteration of the “I need something…” chorus, Byrne seems to become progressively unhinged in his delivery, culminated in a huge scream on the very last word of the song.

I think ‘Mind’ gives a great taste of things to come throughout the album. Moreso than ‘I Zimbra’ which amps you up more than anything. Crazy vocals, far out synthesizer work and production, awkward sounding notes here and there. Classic Talking Heads stuff.

#828: Talking Heads – Memories Can’t Wait

This is the first Talking Heads song I’ve written about on here. Now, that just seems strange to me. I thought I would have covered at least one. But nope. So here it is. I had my Talking Heads phase in about 2016 or so. By then I’d had Remain in Light and 77 in my library, and I knew songs like ‘Burning Down the House’ and ‘Road to Nowhere’ because of videos and all that. But it was in 2016 that I properly listened to their discography from front to back. It quickly became clear that Fear of Music would probably be my favourite of the band’s. And it is.

To me that album has David Byrne at his most paranoid, neurotic and vocally expressive. It’s a great record. Each track is about a fear of the thing each song is named after; it doesn’t work as well for this. ‘Fear of Memories Can’t Wait’? Nah. But the song is definitely about a fear of something. In fact, it’s one of the most frightening tracks on the album. David Byrne sings/yelps/wails about being unable to leave a party whilst seeing other leave and having their freedom, while also having all of these rushing thoughts bouncing off the walls in his head. It’s a bit of an ‘I have no mouth and I must scream’ sort of situation. But thinking about it, the lyrics kind of sound like the perspective of a person who’s possibly on ecstasy. Just maybe? It’s an idea.

The tracks carried by all these warped atmospheric synthesizers, no doubt brought into place by Brian Eno who was now producing his second album with the band. Tina Weymouth does her thing on the bass, I really like those notes that play after each line in the ‘Party in my mind’ sections. Generally, I just like how the song’s always sort of moving forward, the chord progressions… it just keeps you on the edge of your seat, you know? And the ending, my goodness. With about a minute to go the song suddenly segues into this other movement where by the end of it Byrne and guitarist Jerry Harrison are bellowing the song’s title at the top of their lungs. It’s great, man. Honestly one of my favourite endings to a piece of music. The whole 3 and a half minutes is good though. Very worth your time.