The 30 Greatest Talking Heads Songs Ranked
Photo by Bill Wood/Shutterstock Music Features Talking HeadsIn 1975 in New York City, David Byrne, Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz struck up a band together and called themselves the Talking Heads. They joined an East Coast punk scene populated by Blondie, Television, the Modern Lovers and the New York Dolls, ushering in their unique, idiosyncratic fusion of art-rock and new waveâwhich would later turn into an obsession with country music and Afrobeat, with elements of jazz and rap added in for good measure. Cut to 1977 and the Heads added gutarist and keyboardist Jerry Harrison into the fold, solidifying their core lineup that would last until their break-up in 1991. Between 1977 and 1988, the Talking Heads would release eight studio albums (four of them being the greatest collections of music anyone has ever heard) and a handful of live LPs, including the grandiose, unparalleled concert film Stop Making Senseâwhich debuted at the San Francisco International Film Festival 40 years ago this month.
To celebrate the anniversary of Stop Making Sense and the bandâs untouchable legacy in the history of rock ânâ roll, weâve decided to rank the highlights of their catalog. It was no easy feat, as even their worst album (hereâs looking at you, True Stories) has some hits that pack a wallop. Though the band reunited last year to promote Stop Making Senseâs return to theaters, itâs unlikely that weâll ever see them take the stage together again and play the songs that made them immortal. So, if all weâll have is the music theyâve left us with, we might as well rank it! Without further ado, here are the 30 greatest Talking Heads songs of all time.
30. âHouses in Motionâ (Remain in Light, 1980)
Released as the second single from Remain in Light, âHouses in Motionâ is one of the more underrated parts of the Talking Headsâ most beloved album. Byrneâs vocals take a sonorous, deepend stance that quakes through a towering wall of choral singing from Harrison, Weymouth, Frantz, Brian Eno and Nona Hendryx, and itâs what makes the track so multi-dimensional. Add in a bevy of synthesizers and some truly massive guitar work, and âHouses in Motionâ becomes a tone-setting, shapeshifting arc of worldbeat and afrofunkâa giant accomplishment, given that it follows the perennial all-timer âOnce in a Lifetimeâ on a stone-cold tracklist brimming with the best, most indescribable music youâve ever encountered.
29. âDonât Worry About the Governmentâ (Talking Heads: 77, 1977)
âDonât Worry About the Governmentâ will always be my âTalking Heads do Sparksâ song, as Byrne channels his inner-Russell Mael here (the intro has the sort of dainty, high-pitched prettiness that âThis Town Ainât Big Enough for Both of Usâ does, in my opinion). The least-punk song on 77, âDonât Worry About the Governmentâ is art-rock to the boneâand itâs Byrne at his quirkiest. âSome civil servants are just like my loved ones, they work hard and they try to be strong,â he sings. âIâm a lucky guy to live in my building, they own the buildings to help them along.â Itâs a song thatâs non-sensical and infectiously goofy.
28. âElectricity (Drugs)â (The Name of This Band is Talking Heads, 1982)
Sure, there is probably a little bit of bias here from meâgiven that this version of âElectricity (Drugs)â was recorded at the Agora Theatre in Cleveland in 1978âbut it is a serious jam that really is all-encompassing of what exactly the Talking Heads were about pre-Remain in Light. A tune about the untamable energy between genders, âElectricity (Drugs)â finds the Heads arguing that that kind of kinetic chemistry is intoxicating to a drugged-out degree. âThe boys are making a big mess, this makes the girls all start to laugh,â Byrne sings. âI donât know what theyâre talking about. The boys are worried, the girls are shocked. They pick the sound and let it drop, nobody knows what theyâre talking about.â All of that lyrical confusion swells into a blistering guitar breakdown and Byrneâs incomprehensible intoning. Itâs moments like this where you canât help but believe that the Talking Heads were one of the greatest live bands of their generationâif not of all time.
27. âBorn Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)â (Remain in Light, 1980)
If youâre going to be the opening track on one of the, as many would agree, greatest albums in the history of rock ânâ roll, you better be transcendentâand âBorn Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)â certainly checks that box. Itâs not the Talking Headsâ greatest album opener, but itâs still singular. Itâs the first chapter in the bandâs best era, as the Brian Eno-produced masterpiece nurtures you into newness through slap-bass and digitized, otherworldly set-dressings. That breakdown that hits around the 2:50 mark endures as one of the most explosive moments in the bandâs history, and itâs wild, kooky and, well, perfect.
26. âCity of Dreamsâ (True Stories, 1986)
While True Stories was, for the most part, a flop, closing track âCity of Dreamsâ is one of its bright spotsâwith Byrne reckoning with centuries of violence and lineage, as he sings of Native Americans, Spaniards, war and an optimism still alive beneath concrete. It features some of his sweetest lines ever, including âWe live in the city of dreams, we drive on this highway of fire / Should we awake and find it gone, remember thisâour favorite town,â which remains one of my favorite moments in the entire Talking Heads timeline. The track is a huge ballad Byrne wrote in-service to the influences cast upon him by Neil Young, and Tommy Morrellâs steel guitar elevates it to an beautiful, mature place that soars far beyond Byrneâs already-mystifying lyrics. âCity of Dreamsâ lives up to its name, existing as one of the Headsâ dreamiest assemblies ever.
25. âWarning Signâ (More Songs About Buildings and Food, 1978)
Co-written by Byrne and Frantz, âWarning Signâ is an underloved and overlooked standout from the Headsâ sophomore album that I very deeply love returning to. Featuring some of Byrneâs signature sequiturs, there are consumerist undertones on âWarning Signâ that feed directly into the albumâs thematic overtonesâas he bemoans hairstyles and a voice âsaying something.â âItâs a natural thing and you have to relax, Iâve got money now, Iâve got money now,â Byrne sings. âCâmon baby, câmon baby, warning sign of things to come.â Itâs a fun track with some brilliant and bright guitar work from Harrison, especially. And the way Byrneâs vocals coil upwards into a quasi-falsetto when he sings âwhen I rememberâ is one of the silkiest moments in the Talking Headsâ discography.
24. âTake Me to the Riverâ (More Songs About Buildings and Food, 1978)
Al Greenâs original version of âTake Me to the Riverâ is greatâas most Al Green songs areâbut the Talking Heads completely changed the songâs destiny when they re-invented it on More Songs About Buildings and Food. Who knew the track was malleable enough to become a new wave masterpiece? David Byrne certainly did. When you take into consideration the unbelievable rendition the quartet did during their Stop Making Sense concert film, nothing can stand in the way of âTake Me to the Riverâ and its eternal urgency. Folks were so into the Talking Headsâ cover that it hit #26 on the Hot 100âand that would remain the bandâs highest-charting single until 1983. The best cover songs, in my opinion, are the ones that shine across multiple genres. âTake Me to the Riverâ has that versatility in spades.
23. âThe Book I Readâ (Talking Heads: 77, 1977)
An underrated gem in the Headsâ catalog, âThe Book I Readâ is one of my favorite vocal performances from Byrne across the board. Thereâs a sense of innocence in his higher-pitched refrains, which converge lovingly with his grittier, idiosyncratic deliveries we associate his voice with on tracks like âGirlfriend is Betterâ and âLife During Wartime.â Itâs cool to look back at the bandâs debut and hear, in real time, a genius shaping his shtick in real time. The staccato guitars on âThe Book I Readâ are the perfect pillows for Byrneâs âna-na-naâ refrains, and Frantzâs snare/hi-hat combo arrives particularly rapturous on this cut.
22. âRoad to Nowhereâ (Little Creatures, 1985)
Every time I revisit Little Creatures, itâs much better than I remember it being. Itâs hard for any band to sustain any run of masterpieces, let alone putting outâarguablyâfour of them in a row (and a few perfect live records, too). But Little Creatures is a great record full of charming vignettes, and âRoad to Nowhereâ is one of its boldest. With a marching rhythm and Byrneâs singing going extra melodic (with the help of background vocalists Erin Dickens, Diva Gray, Gordon Grody and Lani Groves), the track finds the Heads playing around with instruments not usually in their toolboxâlike Andrew Caderâs washboard or Jimmy Macdonellâs accordion. Itâs a unique, eclectic entry into a catalog that was founded on those two adjectives in the first placeâas the band closes their last good project with one of their most ambitious offerings ever. It was a fitting conclusion for the Talking Heads we know and adore, even if they still had six years and two albums left to come.
21. âPsycho Killerâ (Talking Heads: 77, 1977)
The Talking Headsâ third-ever single and their first whip-smart success, âPsycho Killerâ hit #92 on the Hot 100 and was a certified slam-dunk of art-rock grandiosityâpairing macabre new wave with slick funk, all sung through Byrneâs nervous lilt. âYou start a conversation, you canât even finish it,â he lets out. âYouâre talking a lot, but youâre not saying anything.â Itâs a tune that most listeners have considered to be a rumination on the inner-workings of a serial killerâs mind, and the ârun, run, run, run, run, run, run awayâ refrain certainly helps make a good case for it. Byrne originally wrote âPsycho Killerâ while imagining Alice Cooper doing a Randy Newman song, and itâs the one track that feels quintessentially Talking Heads. What makes it so quintessential, though? Of course, itâs Weymouthâs electric current of bass that propels âPsycho Killerâ into one of the most recognizable songs of the CBGB era altogether.
20. âI Zimbraâ (Fear of Music, 1979)
I will long contend that Fear of Music is the best Talking Heads album, and it all kicks off with âI Zimbraââwhich was co-written by Byrne, Brian Eno and Hugo Ball. It was the bandâs second single from their third album, and it immediately showcases Byrneâs newfound interest in African popular music. Behind him, Harrison, Weymouth and Frantz was a backing crew of Robert Fripp, Gene Wilder, Ari, Hassam Ramzy, Abdou MâBoup, Assane Thiam and Julie Last, and itâs one of the most striking, vibrant album openers of all timeâbrightened by the percussion of Wilder and Ariâs congas, Ramzyâs surdo and MâBoupâs djembe. âI Zimbraâ did its job by effectively ushering in a new era for the Talking Heads, packed with Byrneâs adaptation of Ballâs poem âGadji beri bimbaâ for the lyrics. Itâs Harrisonâs favorite Heads song, and you can clearly see just how âI Zimbraâ would play a crucial role in the formation of Remain in Light just a year later.
19. âFound a Jobâ (More Songs About Buildings and Food, 1978)
The Talking Headsâ holy grail of bizarro rock ânâ roll is âFound a Jobâ with a bullet, as Byrneâs fantasticals about a couple creating their own television show in order to keep their love burning are ripe with dreamy passion. âJudyâs in the bedroom, inventing situations. Bob is on the street today, scouting up locations,â he sings. âTheyâre enlisted all their family, theyâve enlisted all their friends. It helped save their relationship, and made it work again.â Thereâs some serious riffage here that glitter, and âFound a Jobâ holds one of the Talking Headsâ best choruses. Itâs a real show-stopper on, arguably, the bandâs most-complete record.
18. âThe Big Countryâ (More Songs About Buildings and Food, 1978)
Some might call this the best track on More Songs About Buildings and Food, and Iâd wager that they are, in fact, correct about that. âThe Big Countryâ is Byrne doing what Byrne does best: singing about things heâs looking at. In this case, itâs a shoreline, a baseball field, restaurants and factoriesâall seen from inside a plane flying above. âThen we come to the farmlands and the undeveloped areas, and I have learned how these things work together,â he sings out. Backed by the best instance of country converging with new wave, âThe Big Countryâ finds the Heads going from scene-setting optimism to a slash of unavoidable cynicism. âIâm tired of traveling, I want to be somewhere,â Byrne concludes. âItâs not even worth talking about those people down there.â
17. âNo Compassionâ (Talking Heads: 77, 1977)
Thanks to Byrne and Harrisonâs guitar-playing, âNo Compassionâ is a certifiable ripper. A lesson in empathy, the track is easily the standout on 77âgrandiose in measure thanks to a brightened set of arpeggios and a sublime rhythm section from Frantz and Weymouth in-tandem. âOther peopleâs problems, they overwhelm my mind,â Byrne sings. âThey say compassion is a virtue, but I donât have the time.â Thereâs a moment on this track that is, for me, the epitome of the Talking Headsâwhen, near the conclusion, the very of-the-era New York guitar lines quickly swell into an uptick in tempo that the band would deliciously master on Fear of Music two years later. What makes âNo Compassionâ so slick is how terminally modern Byrneâs depictions of disaffected adulthood still feel.
16. âLove â Building on Fireâ (1977)
It always dumbfounds me why the Talking Heads did not include one of their best-ever tracks on their debut album, given that it would have easily been the best cut from 77 had it been featured. Instead, âLove â Building on Fireâ was the bandâs debut single in February 1977 and failed to chart, only appearing on later compilations and box sets (and on the live album, The Name of This and is Talking Heads, of course). It came packaged with the B-side âNew Feeling,â which did make it onto 77. What sets âLove â Building on Fireâ apart from tracks like âUh-Oh, Love Comes to Townâ and âPsycho Killerâ is Brad Baker and Lance Quinnâs horn arrangementâwhich pairs beautifully with Frantzâs steel pan-drumming and a beautiful guitar interplay from Byrne (as Harrison was not yet a member of the band) that, as the Harrison would later say, sounded âa bit like early Television.â I think Jerry was right on the money.
15. âBurning Down the Houseâ (Speaking in Tongues, 1983)
The successes of Speaking in Tongues can be attributed, for the most part, to that of lead single âBurning Down the Houseââwhich became the bandâs highest-charting single ever, peaking at #9 on the Hot 100 in 1983. Itâs the first Heads song I can ever remember hearing, as it would often grace the rotations of whatever pop station my mom would turn on in her car. While Iâm not usually one to award high placements to bandsâ most successful songsâas they are usually not their bestâitâs hard to speak of the Talking Headsâ legacy without giving flowers to âBurning Down the House,â which helped get the bandâs music in front of audiences not so closely linked to the New York post-punk scene that shaped them nearly 10 years prior. What cannot be overlooked, however, is the synthesizers implemented here by Harrison and Wally Badarouâjust pure magic.
14. âAnd She Wasâ (Little Creatures, 1985)
While not the Talking Headsâ greatest song by any measure, âAnd She Wasâ very well might be one of their very best pop songs. Few songs can make verses sound like choruses in the way that this tune canâwhich says a lot, given that its actual chorus is timeless and perfect. âThe world was moving and she was right there with it, and she was,â Byrne sings. âThe world was moving, she was floating above it and she was.â It peaked at #54 on the Hot 100 but found success on the Hot Dance Club Play chart and helped solidify Little Creatures as a misunderstood-but-charming late-career entry for the Heads. If anything, âAnd She Wasâ is a proper example of just how masterful of a songwriter Byrne is, even if the record all but kickstarted the bandâs slow descent towards their eventual breakup in 1991.
13. â(Nothing But) Flowersâ (Naked, 1988)
I think we can all come together and agree that Naked is an underrated Talking Headsâ album (still not great, but at least it isnât True Stories, yeah?). Okay, now that weâve pushed that out of the way, itâs crucial that I highlight â(Nothing But) Flowers,â the projectâs bulletproof focal point that returns to the groove of Fear of Music and Remain in Light-era Heads. Byrne does his best to reckon with environmental changes, both in climate and in production, through wry humorâas he sings âThere was a factory, now there are mountains and riversâ over an Afrobeat-inspired dance arrangement. âFlowersâ solidifies why Byrne is so good at his craft, because lines like âYears ago, I was an angry man and Iâd pretend that I was a billboardâ and âThis was a Pizza Hut, now itâs all covered with daisiesâ and âDonât leave me stranded here, I canât get used to this lifestyleâ are all just home-runs on the bandâs last great song performed together on-record. Byrne was batting 1.000 on âFlowersâ; talk about going out with a bang.
12. âA Clean Break (Letâs Work)â (The Name of This Band is Talking Heads, 1982)
Recorded in Maynard, Massachusetts in 1977, âA Clean Break (Letâs Work)â is another non-album track the Talking Heads absolutely crushed live in their heyday. A version of this track recorded at CBGBs exists on the Bonus Rarities & Outtakes collection that was released in 2006, but it sounds just plain abysmal in comparison to the OG cut from the bandâs first live album over 40 years ago. Spiritually, âA Clean Break (Letâs Work)â likely would have fallen beautifully on More Songs About Buildings and Food, but luckily the TNOTBITH version sounds irreplicably singular and perfect. Itâs compelling, to an extent, that Byrne and the band never got around to finishing a studio cut of this oneâas it easily could have elevated any project it landed on. Well, weâll always have Maynard, Massachusetts and Byrneâs out-of-body, prismatic yelps.
11. âAirâ (Fear of Music, 1979)
A symphony within a pop song, âAirâ is so beautifully dynamic that any list would be remiss to not have it in the top-15. It being, by my calculations, the fourth best song on Fear of Music is just an example of how perfect that record isâbecause âAirâ is, letâs face it, a masterpiece packed into three-and-a-half minutes. âSome people say not to worry about the air, some people never had experience with airâ is one of my favorite deliveries from Byrne, and it arrives after he reckons with some great airborne fallout that leaves him questioning the metamorphosis of his own skin. The Sweetbreathes (Weymouth and her two sisters, Lani and Laura) provide backing vocals here that make Byrneâs melodic construction all the more tenderâthat is, until Harrisonâs keyboards and Byrneâs guitar cut through the harmonies with a stunning mirage of vibrancy.
10. âOnce in a Lifetimeâ (Remain in Light, 1980)
If âPsycho Killerâ was the track that made the rock ânâ roll world pay attention to the Talking Heads, then âOnce in a Lifetimeâ was the track that demanded those gazes never wane. The lead single and focal point of Remain in Light, the band and Eno wrote âOnce in a Lifetimeâ with Afrobeat and rap in mind and constructed the track through various jam sessions between July and August 1980 and isolating the best parts. With an artist like Fela Kuti in mind, whom Byrne has considered to be a âhuman sampler,â Enoâs production style was an era-specific precursor to the mirage of sampling that would endure in the following decades. As it were, âOnce in a Lifetimeâ sounds the way it does because the Talking Heads couldnât figure out how to play funk musicâand we can all be thankful for that failure, as it gave us the greatest bridge of all time: âSame as it ever was.â
9. âCitiesâ (Fear of Music, 1979)
Obviously, most of the songs performed for Stop Making Sense are superior or on-par with their studio companionsâbut the SMS rendition of âCitiesâ is most certainly the one. Nonetheless, its original form on Fear of Music is an incredible centerpiece for a terrific album, with Byrne going absolutely feral on the mic (I believe he even⌠growls at one point?). âFind a city, find myself a city to live inâ is one of my favorite Talking Heads choruses ever, and it speaks greatly to just how damn good at making melodies the band was. The âitâs only the riverâ ending, too, is an agent of musical chaos all on its own, a measure of continuity in the bandâs catalog that ruptures an already-multi-dimensional album into an avalanche of perfection.
8. âMoon Rocksâ (Speaking in Tongues, 1983)
I mean, what a tune. I wish more people talked about âMoon Rocks,â a masterclass unfortunately relegated to deep cut-status in the Talking Headsâ widened lore. Put on the less-acclaimed but perfect side two of Speaking in Tongues, âMoon Rocksâ flirts with some reggae influence and features one of the coolest singing performances from Byrne. âProtons, neutrons, I ate a rock from the moon,â he sings. âGot shocked once; shocked twice. Letâs see what it can do! Man in the moon, moon in the man. I got a rock in my throatâupside, up side down. My tummy starts to talkâŚâ Itâs a tremendously nonsensical verse in a tremendously nonsensical song, one that finds Byrne sending his voice through a few octaves and reveling in his own outlandish abstractions. When he sings âI got wild imagination, talkinâ transubstantiation,â you believe him.
7. âCrosseyed and Painlessâ (Remain in Light, 1980)
âCrosseyed and Painlessâ is one of those songs that, even 44 years later, you struggle to even fathom how it came to exist in the first place. The melody is so frantic and jittery that it sounds like itâs powered by something stronger than cocaine or caffeine. Though it didnât crack the Hot 100, âCrosseyed and Painlessâ did hit the US Dance chart. Itâs the kind of bombastic, larger-than-lfie song that flourishes in small details. Cowbells, congas, staccato rhythm guitar, glitchy electronicaâit feels like African music colliding at full-speed with a sonic language not yet invented. Byrneâs âfacts are simple and facts are straight; facts are lazy and facts are lateâ was inspired by Kurtis Blowâs âThe Breaks,â adding another dimension to an already dense, erratic and hued songâand the rant fries the trackâs already obvious and puncturing themes of paranoia and alienation into another stratosphere completely.
6. âGirlfriend is Betterâ (Speaking in Tongues, 1983)
For all of the ways that the Talking Heads failed to make funk music on Remain in Light and came out with something unequivocally their own, âGirlfriend is Betterâ marks a moment where the band tried to make something that sounded like themselves but ended up with a funk song. I donât think itâs controversial to say that the Stop Making Sense version of the song is lifetimes better (I mean, they named the film after the damn thing!), but Byrneâs vocals exist here on a tapestry of ambition, paranoia and braggadocious attitude. âDown in the basement, we hear the sound of machines,â he sings. âHa-ha-ha-ha, ha! Driving in circles, come to my senses sometimes.â The song is animated through Bernie Worrellâs smoking-gun synthesizerâone of the greatest elements in a Talking Heads song not performed by the core-four ever.
5. âWild Wild Lifeâ (True Stories, 1986)
Save all of your belly-aching for someone who wants to hear itââWild Wild Lifeâ is one of the single greatest pop songs ever written, and I will defend it until the end of time. Let the soft animal of your body love Byrneâs most infectious songwriting deeply and adoringly. One of only a few songs on True Stories that I can stomach, âWild Wild Lifeâ is so vibrant when Byrne, Harrison and Weymouth harmonize togetherâand Weymouthâs singing is particularly harmonious here. Never have the Heads been so danceable, and Iâm beyond floored every time this track starts playing and Byrne starts singing about wearing fur pajamas and riding a hot potato. âPiece of mind, itâs a piece of Cake,â he grooves. âThought control, you get on board any time you like!â I donât care if Byrne regrets True Stories; it has âWild Wild Lifeâ on itâand thatâs a success in my book, as Iâve never wanted to sleep on an interstate as badly as I do right now. In the greatest decade for pop music ever, thank goodness the Talking Heads couldnât exit it without first delivering their own sticky-sweet and infectious earworm that could shift tectonic plates if played loud enough.
4. âLife During Wartimeâ (Fear of Music, 1979)
While âBurning Down the Houseâ was the first Talking Heads song I ever heard, âLife During Wartimeâ was the first Talking Heads song I sought out. Itâs the roaring, moody, definitive cut from Fear of Music, one that harbors Bryneâs most bombastic vocal performance ever (and sounds phenomenal live). Sung from the perspective of a terrorist, Byrne waves goodbye to CBGBs and Mudd Club and celebrates his handsome arrangement of visas and passports, lamenting that he âmight not ever get homeâ because he sleeps during the day and works at night. âWhy stay in college? Why go to night school?â he questions. âGonna be different this time!â Itâs odd, out-there and terminally funkified. The eccentricities of the Talking Headsâ legacy all meet here, as Byrne and his crew make paranoia sound like a hootâbut this ainât no disco.
3. âThe Great Curveâ (Remain in Light, 1980)
Released originally as a B-side to âCrosseyed and Painless,â âThe Great Curveâ is the best track from Remain in Light and an exotic mark in the Talking Headsâ careerâas it is, quite plainly, their sexiest song ever. I mean, âthe world moves a womanâs hipsâ is one hell of a thesis statement and Byrneâs commitment to the idea is sold through his own paranoid glint of reckoning and desire to escape. âThe world has a way of looking at people, sometimes we feel that the world is wrong,â he sings. âShe loves the world, and all the people in it. She shakes âem up when she starts to walk.â Eno and Nona Hendryxâs backing vocals are particularly engaging here, tooâmaking it sound like the band nailing this arrangement (christened into immortality by Jon Hassellâs missile trumpet) was a one-in-a-million capture. âWorld of light, sheâs gonna open our eyes up,â indeed.
2. âHeavenâ (Fear of Music, 1979)
I wrestled between this and âThis Must Be the Placeâ for a while, because both are, arguably, two of the greatest songs ever written period. But when I revisited âHeavenâ for this list, I couldnât ignore just how beautifully mundane the whole ordeal is. Byrne sings of the afterlife as being ordinary, and it is here that he sings the best verses of the bandâs entire career: âThere is a party, everyone is there. Everyone will leave at exactly the same time. When this partyâs over, it will start again; will not be any different, will be exactly the same.â Byrne and Harrison co-wrote the track together, and the melody wraps itself around Harrisonâs piano-playing and Byrneâs very sincere, country-inspired strumming and angelic, echo-chamber singing. If eternal life mirrors nothing but Byrne’s fantasy of a boring, monotonous bar, then we should all consider ourselves lucky.
1. âThis Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)â (Speaking in Tongues, 1983)
What makes Speaking in Tongues such an important and enigmatic rock ânâ roll record is âThis Must Be the Place (Naive Melody),â which is the greatest love song ever written. While I firmly believe the Stop Making Sense version is the greatest live performance of any piece of music in the lifetime of rock ânâ roll up until this point, âThis Must Be the Placeâ has the unique privilege of being the best song in recorded human historyâas its lyrics so beautifully transcribe the truly marvelous and transcendent and ordinary wonders of affection. âHi-yo, I got plenty of time,â Byrne sings. âHi-yo, you got light in your eyes, and youâre standing here beside me. I love the passing of time.â To me, âThis Must Be the Placeâ is the musical personification of a smile emoticon and âI come home, she lifted up her wingsâ is the single sweetest and handsomest depiction of angelic admiration Iâve ever heard. âIf someone asks, this is where Iâll be,â Byrne croons, tenderly, as the bandâs new wave inclinations hush into the whisper of a breathless rapture of disco ostinato. Few bands put out their swan song three albums before they actually break up, but âThis Must Be the Placeâ is where the Talking Heads ended and the David Byrne show began. And yet, his vocalizations on the âah-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ohhâ transition in the final chorus still leave me speechless.
Listen to a playlist of these songs below.