Silent Talking Heads Find A New Voice

Following ‘Naked’ it was time for the band to put their clothes back on and once more explore life beyond Talking Heads. With the incessant chatter of the band having died down, Jerry Harrison set about writing and recording his second album, this time having found God as his new backing band, well, Casual Gods at any rate. Harrison no doubt had read the writing on the wall, in respect of Talking Heads’ immediate prospects, and approached the ‘Casual Gods’ (US#78/OZ#18) album with a degree of freedom. The album oozed with slick funk rhythms and infectious melodic hooks. Harrison handled production, vocals, guitar, and keyboards, but in addition to former touring Talking Heads, Adrian Belew, Nona Hendryx, and Bernie Worrell, guest guitarist Chris Spedding and Robbie McIntosh played a lick or two. Harrison stepped up to the plate on all counts, and the album’s lead out single ‘Rev It Up’ was a brilliant serving of funk laden pop-rock. For some inexplicable reason though, ‘Rev It Up’ only managed to redline on the Australian charts (#3). The menacingly moody ‘Man With A Gun’ also hit a target down under (#16), whilst remaining a largely undiscovered gem elsewhere. Two years later, Harrison resurfaced with the 1990 album ‘Walk On Water’, a less ornately mixed, straight up pop-rock offering. Harrison even threw in a couple of heartfelt ballads, but the stand out track, and single, was ‘Flying Under Radar’ (OZ#100). Sadly, the rapid fire, funk-guitar driven song flew so low it barely registered a blip. I’ll never understand just why brilliant tracks such as ‘Flying Under Radar’ remain so strangely surreptitious. Throughout the 90s and beyond, Jerry Harrison focussed most of his creative energies as a producer for other artists, and has helmed albums from Crash Test Dummies, Live, the Verve Pipe, Fine Young Cannibals (on ‘Raw & the Cooked’), and No Doubt.

The same year that Talking Heads released their swansong album, ‘Naked’, David Byrne devoted a good deal more time on outside projects. He wrote the score to the Jonathan Demme comedy ‘Married To The Mob’, and in partnership with Cong Su and the acclaimed Ryuichi Sakamoto, he composed the soundtrack to the Bernardo Bertolucci epic ‘The Last Emperor’ (and won an Academy Award in the process) - I’m assuming he finally found a tailor made suit to fit him for the award ceremony. The enigmatic artist had also formed his own recording label, Luaka Bop, as an avenue into the U.S. market, not only for his own work, but that of artists from Brazil, Cuba (not accessible since 1961), and Asia. Byrne’s commitment to musical diversity also extended to signing British avant-garde dance act A.R. Kane, and Los Angeles rock band Geggy Tah. In 1989, Byrne released his first solo album proper, with the Latin rhythm inspired ‘Rei Momo’ (US#71/UK#52/OZ#86), produced by Steve Lillywhite and featuring a stellar support cast of well respected Latin musicians. He followed that up with directorial duties on the documentary ‘The House Of Life’.

Byrne’s next two albums, 1992’s ‘Uh-Oh’ (UK#26/OZ#78), and 1994’s ‘David Byrne’ (UK#44), veered back to a more direct, rock-edged approach, but failed to capture the attention of former Talking Heads’ devotees. He closed out the 90s with the nothing more than ‘Feelings’ (1997), which attempted to squeeze even more radically diverse ingredients into the musical melange. 2001’s ‘Look Into The Eyeball’ featured a cast of thousands, and possessed a more consistent treatment of its still diverse musical styles (I especially like the playful ‘Like Humans Do’). Byrne has only released one further solo album since, 2004’s ‘Grown Backwards’, but in 2008 he reunited with former Talking Heads’ producer Brian Eno, on the album release ‘Everything That Happens Will Happen Today’. But though his solo recordings may have been few and far between over the last decade, David Byrne has been no less prolific in his creative output. He has continued to write and produce for film, television, other artists, written and directed for the stage and screen, staged exhibitions of his photography and visual performance art, toured and lectured, and continued to oversee operations in his record company.

Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth resumed duties with Tom Tom Club during 1988, following a stint in the production booth for Ziggy Marley & the Melody Makers (see previous post). Keyboardist Gary Pozner, and guitarist Mark Roule, were added to create a more stripped down, but stable line-up, both for in-studio, and tour duties. Once more the resultant album, ‘Boom Boom Chi Boom Boom’ (US#114), featured an eclectic mix of song styles, which included a cover of the Velvet Underground’s ‘Femme Fatale’. On board for that song were Lou Reed, David Byrne, and Jerry Harrison. The chemistry must have still been there, at least with Harrison, because in 1990 the Tom Tom Club toured the U.S., sharing a bill with Harrison’s band Casual Gods, Deborah Harry of Blondie, and the Ramones (that would have been quite a show). In 1992, Tom Tom Club returned to the studio to record their fourth album, ‘Dark Sneak Love Action’, which contained more than its share of sunshine and ecstasy, including a track by that title, and a buoyant take on Hot Chocolate’s ‘You Sexy Thing’ (see previous posts). Around the same time, Weymouth and Frantz produced the Happy Mondays’ album ‘Yes Please!’, and over time both continued production work for the likes of Angelfish (Shirley Manson’s pre-Garbage band), Mad Happy, and Supergrass.

For a few years, Frantz and Weymouth took a deliberate break from work with one another, but by 1996 they had agreed, with Jerry Harrison, to attempt a reformation of Talking Heads. There was just one problem, and a pretty major one at that, David Byrne wanted no part of it. The remaining trio decided to press ahead with a new album, under the name The Heads. Law suits were threatened, but eventually the project came to fruition via the album ‘No Talking Just Head’ - pun most definitely intended. With Byrne out of the picture, the trio invited a number of pop-rock luminaries to provide lyrics and guest vocals for the venture. Among those on board were Debbie Harry, Michael Hutchence, Richard Hell, Andy Partridge, Maria McKee, Ed Kowalczyk, and Shaun Rider (who guested on the single ‘Don’t Take My Kindness For Weakness - UK#60). For all the novelty of such a varied line-up of guest vocalists, the album lacked the depth of the Talking Heads proper. 2000 saw Tom Tom Club reopen its doors with the album ‘The Good, The Bad, And The Funky’. A diverse array of musical flavours resided within, though laced throughout with Tom Tom Club’s penchant for up-beat dance pop, and funky rhythms. Over the next couple of years, Frantz and Weymouth took Tom Tom Club on the road, and though in more recent times the ‘band’ has kept a low key profile, they still hit the stage from time to time, never failing to entertain fans, old and new alike.

In March of 2002, David Byrne, Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth, and Jerry Harrison, reunited on stage to commemorate the induction of Talking Heads into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame - but the reunion proved to be a one off only.

Talking Heads Can't Stop The Chart Chatter

Talking Heads proved to be one of the most popular and influential acts to emerge from the U.S. East Coast post-punk movement of the mid 70s. Over the decade stretching from the late 70s through late 80s, David Byrne, Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth, and Jerry Harrison, melded together their individually disparate styles and influences to form an appealingly synergetic whole, that proved consistently difficult to compartmentalise, stylistically at least. But though the band’s individual voices each managed to find their own pathway of expression within the group, as with most vehicles, Talking Heads became identified with a primary driving force, in this case, its enigmatic front man David Byrne. Over time, each of the Talking Heads’ quartet looked to engage in conversation beyond the boundaries of the group, including Byrne himself. 1981 appears to be the year that those extracurricular excursions in musical discourse began to solidify, in the form of recording projects undertaken by the band’s members, which, though distinct from traditional Talking Heads’ discussion, would further inform the band’s rhetoric throughout the remainder of its tenure, and act as a springboard for each member‘s individual career.

By the time its members ventured beyond the four walls of the group, Talking Heads had already notched up a swag of critically lauded, and commercially lucrative records. Their music transcended stylistic boundaries to incorporate, and seamlessly blend, a myriad of styles, from funk, R&B, classical minimalism, rock, dance, and world music elements. Their eccentrically toned debut set ‘Talking Heads ‘77’ (UK#60/US#97), which featured the quirky and punchy ‘Psycho Killer’, announced to the world that here was a band that resided firmly outside the square. 1978’s ‘More Songs About Buildings and Food’ (UK#21/US#29/OZ#46) marked the beginning of a four year association with synth-guru producer Brian Eno, one that would see the band further push the frontiers of stylistic experimentalism. Eclectic became a term readily associated with the Talking Heads brand during that period, and a cover of Al Green’s classic ‘Take Me To The River’ (US#26) notched up the ‘post-punk’ quartet’s first hit single. The more darkly toned ‘Fear Of Music’ (UK#33/US#21/OZ#35) followed in ‘79, but the album also introduced a rich, intricately woven tapestry of African and Arabian music styles into the formula. But it was Talking Heads’ fourth album, ‘Remain In Light’ (UK#21/US#19/OZ#25), which was released in October of 1980, that elevated the band’s profile into a wider sphere of public consciousness. The album spawned the mercurial single ‘Once In A Lifetime’ (UK#14/OZ#23), which was the first song from Talking Heads that really grabbed my attention. Yet another world tour followed over the course of late ‘80/early ‘81, featuring a newly expanded live line-up of the band, including keyboardist Bernie Worrell, guitarist Adrian Belew, bassist Busta Cherry Jones, percussionist Steven Scales, and backing vocalists Nona Hendryx and Dolette McDonald. Talking Heads had firmly established themselves as one of the biggest live drawcards on the planet, and their popularity as a recording act had ascended to new heights. But after five years on the road, and in studio together, the quartet decided it was time for an extended break.

Singer/guitarist David Byrne, he of the awkwardly tailored attire, had been the first to take several tentative steps into solo project terrain. Byrne was impassioned to explore further the areas of electronica, and world music influences. He continued to collaborate with Brian Eno to extend the work already begun via the ‘Fear Of Music’ album. The result surfaced in 1981 as ‘My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts’, a musical collage of electronica and world music styles, acknowledged as a groundbreaking foray into marrying the worlds of Western popular music and traditional ‘third world’ styles. He followed this project up with a soundtrack score for the Broadway production, ‘The Catherine Wheel’. He also found time during his short sabbatical from the band, to produce the EP ‘Mesopotamia’ for the B-52s.

Keyboardist/guitarist Jerry Harrison launched himself into recording his debut solo album, released in October of ‘81 as ‘The Red And The Black’. Neither album, nor the associated single, ‘Things Fall Apart’, struck gold, but the album (recorded with several touring Talking Heads) revealed the consummate writer/performer who had perhaps been overshadowed somewhat by David Byrnes’ monolithic musical persona. There were echoes of the Talking Heads sound, but Harrison established his own distinct brew of lyrical/musical eclecticism.

Talking Heads’ bassist Tina Weymouth joined her partner, and Talking Heads’ drummer, Chris Frantz, in kick starting their own studio project under the moniker of Tom Tom Club. The ‘band’ was a lighter, breezier, more sunny-side up approach to music than had been the case on most of the Talking Heads work. Like Harrison, the couple recruited the studio assistance of a number of regular touring Talking Heads to round out the in-studio ensemble. The resultant album was the highly danceable and feel good self titled set ‘Tom Tom Club’ (US#23/OZ#51/UK#78), which achieved platinum status in the U.S. (something Talking Heads as a collective had yet to accomplish at that point). Elements of reggae, dance, funk, even formative hip-hop, were added to the melting pot, and resulted in an engaging and electrifying mix. The singles ‘Genius Of Love’ (US#31), ‘Wordy Rappinghood’ (all hail the typewriter - UK#7/OZ#44), and ‘Under The Boardwalk’ (UK#22), provided a stylistic template for many artists to follow, and of the extracurricular projects undertaken by the Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club incited the most conversation.

By early ‘83, Talking Heads were ready to resume talking, and work on their next album marked the beginning of the band’s post-Eno period. A live album, ‘The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads’ (UK#22/US#31/OZ#41), had provided a necessary stop gap, but fans eagerly awaited some new studio fare. The dialogue resumed in earnest via 1983’s ‘Speaking In Tongues’ (US#15/UK#21/OZ#15), an album that still boasted invigorating rhythmic nuances, but contained within a tighter, more engaging melodic structure. The energy of tracks such as the classic ‘Burning Down The House’ (US#9/OZ#94), and the lyrically mischievous ‘Girlfriend Is Better’ burst forth into every fibre of your being. Whilst ‘Speaking In Tongues’ was still talking up a storm on the charts, Weymouth and Frantz decided to sneak away and record another Tom Tom Club album. Released in August ‘83, ‘Close To The Bone’ (US#73) didn’t break much new ground in relation to its predecessor, but then again it didn’t give any ground either, serving up another appetizing banquet of vibrant music.

On the back of their biggest selling album to date, Talking Heads embarked on a mammoth world tour, dubbed ‘Stop Making Sense’, and captured on film by director Jonathan Demme. The resultant concert film hit mainstream cinemas in late ‘84 (a rare feat in any day and age), and quickly assumed cult status among fans of the band, and general music fans alike. The sight of the bespectacled David Byrne's jittery, convulsing dance style on stage, in a bizarrely oversized suit, became one of the iconic images of the 80s. Whilst the film proved popular in cinemas, the associated live soundtrack album, ‘Stop Making Sense’ (US#41/UK#37/OZ#9), spent a marathon stint on pop charts (including 77 weeks on the Australian charts) - it was also the first Talking Heads CD that I purchased. The band was about to reach its commercial peak via the release of the 1985 album, ‘Little Creatures’ (UK#10/US#20/OZ#2). The album was Talking Heads’ most stripped down, straight forward pop offering to date. Though more accessible on the surface, ‘Little Creatures’ still offered a generous dose of quirky lyrical fare from Byrne. Some observed that it was a more mature, even coming of age album, for a quartet all now well into their 30s. A track such as ‘Stay Up Late’, offered an acerbic lyrical commentary on parenting, something the newly married Weymouth and Frantz could relate to themselves. Though more overtly pop in nature, there was no dearth in quality of song writing and delivery - these were accomplished and highly savvy pop performers. The singles ‘The Lady Don’t Mind’ (OZ#24), ‘And She Was’ (OZ#10/UK#17), and ‘Road To Nowhere’ (UK#6/OZ#16), ensured Talking Heads were a constant in chart chatter throughout 1985. The Cajun-flavoured ‘Road To Nowhere’ was backed by a brilliantly innovative video clip - it was a golden age for the medium - and a golden age for Talking Heads, but like all great historical ages, it couldn’t last forever.

During the period ‘85 through ‘86, David Byrne was a high revving creative machine, with involvement across both music and cinematic spectrums. In 1985 he wrote the score and recorded an accompanying soundtrack album for ‘Music For The Knee Plays’. In 1986 he wrote, directed, and starred in the motion picture ‘True Stories’, a comically quirky insight into the curious, sometimes eccentric, underbelly of small-town American life. An accompanying soundtrack album was released, on which Byrne contributed two songs, augmented by other artists. The release of the official ‘True Stories’ soundtrack album actually followed a few months after the release of the next Talking Heads album, also titled ‘True Stories’. It’s arguable that by the time the album was recorded, the band were already beginning to splinter, and it’s also possible part of the reason was Byrne’s burgeoning profile apart from the band. Although he incurred his fair share of detractors (who often levelled charges of colonial misappropriation against him), in 1986 the cover of Time Magazine hailed David Byrne as ‘Rock’s Renaissance Man’. The ‘True Stories’ album was well received by fans (US#17/OZ#2/UK#7), and spawned the catchy single ‘Wild Wild Life’ (OZ#13/UK#43/US#25), which was backed by yet another inventive promo video.

Byrne wasn’t the only Talking Head to engage in dialogue beyond the band, with Jerry Harrison embarking on production duties with artists such as the Bodeans and Violent Femmes. Harrison also began work on writing, and recording his own album, as had Frantz and Weymouth under the Tom Tom Club banner. But the quartet assembled in the studio during late ‘87 to break the silence one last time for Talking Heads. The resultant album, ‘Naked’ (OZ#2/UK#3/US#19), hit stores in early ‘88, and marked a reengagement with some of the polyrhythmic territory explored on ‘Remain In Light’. Produced by Steve Lillywhite, the album infused a multitude of ‘world music’ styles, most notably Latin rhythms and instrumentation (which Byrne in particular had become enamoured with). Whilst most ‘swansong’ albums reflect a tired, bitter environment most oft associated with a band’s disintegration, ‘Naked’ retained a tone of freshness and vitality that prompts the question “what if” in respect of the post ‘Naked’ possibilities for Talking Heads. In late ‘91, David Byrne stated in an interview with the L.A. Times, that Talking Heads were no more, something he hadn’t bothered to tell the other three at the time. A month later, Frantz, Weymouth, and Harrison, released their own statement expressing their disappointment at the band’s demise - but no one was really surprised.