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Don't be looking for a Talking Heads Reunion Tour any time soon. When asked about his relationship with former members of the '80s avant-rock super-group, David Byrne offers a curt response: "We have nothing to say to one another. Life moves on. It's nicer that way."
Byrne would like to move on after last year's lawsuit with The Heads, the latest assemblage of former bandmates Chris Frantz, Jerry Harrison, and Tina Weymouth. Apparently Byrne feared that The Heads were masquerading as another version of "The Heads," the nickname that critics and fans often used for Talking Heads. While both sides eventually settled on an undisclosed agreement, there is little doubt that their "differences" eliminated any chances of a future rendezvous. Meanwhile The Heads' debut No Talking Just Head, a lackluster record with a gratuitous number of guest vocalists, found its way to used CD shops faster than the new Ugly Kid Joe album. After that example of haphazard rebellion, it's evident that Byrne's presence in the band amounted to more than just the guy with the piercing wail in the over-sized white suit. He was the Music Man. Penning most of the songs and playing most of the instruments, Byrne dominated the band's creative powers without being the control-meister. Like it or not, the largeness of the band was directly proportional to the largeness of Byrne: a shrewd cavalier who fought for a place in fringe pop. Talking Heads' success as the Art-Beast of Rock explained why Byrne could never anoint The Heads on their new musical venture. And without his blessing, they were doomed from the get-go. |
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