Talking Heads’ Original Lineup on Stop Making Sense, Their Early Days, and the Future

 Published By Kojo Solo

David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison discuss the restored version of their iconic documentary, the band’s classic albums, and being a Talking Head for life.

Talking Heads will be here soon. The New York art-punks, whose blend of nervy postmodernism and undeniable groove made them one of the defining rock bands of the late 1970s and ’80s, have not appeared together in public in two decades—until recently. Together they are promoting a remastered version of Stop Making Sense, their landmark 1984 concert film, directed by Jonathan Demme. Now, I’m awaiting their slightly delayed arrival for an interview in a conference room and library at the midtown Manhattan office of A24 Films, the production company behind the film’s rerelease.

On the occasions when the members of Talking Heads have individually discussed their history together since their 1991 breakup, the recollections have often carried notes of bitterness, if not acrimony: about songwriting credits, about singer-guitarist David Byrne’s tight control of the band, about the fact that the other members learned of his departure in a newspaper article. If it weren’t for the good spirits they displayed in a Q&A with Spike Lee after the Toronto premiere of the new Stop Making Sense, I might wonder if they’re going to show up at all.

Drummer Chris Frantz enters first, sporting the same sort of polo shirt he wears in the movie, still exuding regular-guy charm and enthusiasm. We joke about how punctuality is the sign of a good drummer—half the job, after all, is showing up on time. Next come keyboardist-guitarist Jerry Harrison and bassist Tina Weymouth. Weymouth, who is the type of person who takes an interest in things like library ladders, soon ascends the one in the back of the room and begins telling us about its manufacturer. Later, when I ask the members of the band to introduce themselves into their microphones, she says, “I’m the bass player. I’m almost a Scorpio, and I was born on a Wednesday, so I’m full of woe.”

David Byrne arrives a few minutes after the rest, his blue mechanic’s jumpsuit faintly echoing his iconic oversized business attire from the film: he still has his feel for the absurdity of the nondescript. I can’t help but relay every detail of their entrance—it’s the Talking Heads, sitting together in one room in front of me—but I’m not inclined to draw any inference about their dynamic in 2023 from the fact that he showed up last. As we discuss a few minutes later about Stop Making Sense: some actions are heavy with intention, and others just happen in the lightness of the moment.

Source - Pitchfork