Second Time Around

Talking Heads
The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads (Rhino) The Best of Talking Heads (Rhino)

When I was an anxious freshman, Talking Heads were my private joy. I wore down cassettes of Remain in Light and The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads on my old Walkman. Then Stop Making Sense, Jonathan Demme's documentary of their 1983 tour, filled the cavernous California Theater on University Avenue, David Byrne's shoulder pads took over MTV, and up on Frat Hill you could hear them fa-fa-fa-fa-ing to "Psycho Killer." I mean, it was cool, but could you imagine Greeking your funk? I learned to rate the hump-night parties by whether Rockmaster Scott's "The Roof Is on Fire" or "Burning Down the House" got the bigger midnight cheer. In retrospect, the songs on the last third of the strictly chronological Best of Talking Heads don't sound half as corny as I remember them, especially "And She Was." But you know what? "Wild Wild Life" is still on some Huey Lewis shit.

For my money, nothing from the band's post-'83 output can fade a single measure of Name's collection of live jams from 1977 to 1981, which captures them from their early wound-up-tight days to their push-me-in-the-water baptism and into something like an Egypt 70-and-ParliaFunkadelicment thang. Besides stunning versions of songs like "Take Me to the River," "New Feeling," "Memories (Can't Wait)," and "I Zimbra," the two-CD reissue adds no less than 12 revelatory bonus tracks. On the second CD, it restores the complete set list for the legendary Remain in Light tour.

With the imperative of moving the crowd, there was no time for fussiness, just funking out. Liberated from self-consciousness and studio preciousness, "Born under Punches (The Heat Goes On)" gives Tina Weymouth some, and the 10-piece band simply murder the original. This track points sidewise to Sly and Robbie's work with the Tamlins on "Baltimore" and forward to the RZA. The art nerds were swimming the riddim stream, and "The Girls Want to Be with the Girls," "Heaven," "Found a Job," and "Warning Sign" sound less unhinged than unleashed. From the view on the dance floor, those nervous tics make a lot of sense after all. (Jeff Chang)