Talking Heads Debut

Rip It Up, Issue 12, 1 June 1978, Page 10

Talking Heads Debut

Bruce Belsham

Talking Heads Talking Heads 77 Phillips We have all heard the phrase “new wave”. It is a rather silly blanket term for any remotely original rock-and-roll that has surfaced during the last eighteen months. It encourages the foolish association of English punk bands with Rhythm and Blues revivalists and even with current New York experimenters. Such mental sloppiness is lamentable. American band Talking Heads are perhaps the most misplaced bedfellows of all within this so called movement. It is an historical accident that Talking Heads nurtured an audience at CBGBs, the club in New York also known as a venue for the Ramones and Television. Talking Heads are as different from these two bands as each is different from the other. For one Talking Heads draw from sources people like the Ramones shun.

Using a standard small band line up the Heads profess and develop a taste for pop, soul, disco.“ The big difference between us and punk groups is that we like K.C. and the Sunshine Band,” says Chris Frantz, the Heads’ bass player, “you ask Johnny Rotten if he likes K.C. and the Sunshine Band and he’ll blow snot in your face.” After all Talking Heads are reputed to cover an Al Green standard in their live show. However, the real proof comes in the form of the band’s much acclaimed maiden L.P. Talking Heads 77. Released belatedly in NZ. it is in many ways a difficult album. Not because like Television’s output it demands a re-thought aesthetic but because it is an amazingly complex welding of rhythms, melodies, catchy arrangements and suggested styles. Talking Heads 77 takes at least half a dozen listenings before it begins to sink in. One has to accustom oneself to singer David Byrne's peculiarly aggressive voice, to the sheer wealth of melodic fragments, to structural changes that occur with astounding rapidity. There is little wonder that Talking Heads’ New York crowd is supposed to be swarming with folk who have intellectual pretensions, college students and young academics. However out of vogue the description, this is intellectual music. I am even tempted to believe that

had Talking Heads first emerged in Britain they would have run into critical flak as art school clever-dicks. But because Talking Heads are demanding is no reason to run scared. Eventually 77 is sing-a-long. David Byrne is able to conjure more than his fair share of tunes which ingratiate their way into the consciousness. I'm not wholly convinced about the splendid virtues claimed by many for Talking Heads 77, but it has slowly become a record I enjoy. And that’s not to be sneezed at. Not the least part of the enjoyment derives from Byrne’s lyric talent. As a songwriter David Byrne specialises in persona pieces. This has earned him compari sons with Randy Newman that are misleading. Where Newman is economical and enigmatic, Byrne is prosy attempting to imitate the mental progressions of characters ranging from civil servants to psychopaths. As such he is attempting a fairly original combination of elements and achieves a fair measure of success. Like other features of this album the lyric content takes time to assimilate which is probably as good an indication as any that it will take many more playings before it palls. And I intend to give Talking Heads 77 those several more playings.