jonathan richman and jerry harrison, the most loving of the modern lovers.


jonathan richman and jerry harrison, the most loving of the modern lovers.
five anagrams for “max abelson” that i hope no one ever suggests, based on ten alternate anagrams for “talking heads” besides brian eno’s kings lead hat:
1. samba en lox
2. no lab exams
3. ox nabs male (alternately: blames an ox)
4. blame sax? no.
5. male ax snob
#834: talking heads - crosseyed and painless (1980, rome)
ten anagrams for “talking heads” that brian eno could have used instead of king’s lead hat, the song on before and after science that scrambled the name of his friend david byrne’s band, in decreasing order of liklihood:
1. a naked slight
2. dealt shaking
3. a snaked light
4. ska night deal
5. a gnashed kilt
6. knighted? alas.
7. data! elks! nigh!
8. a gash tinkled
9. sandal keg hit
10. gal asked, “hint?”
#690: orange juice - rip it up (1982)
there’s something wonderfully and just impossibly cool about the music that was made right before i was born in november 1984. the guitars don’t only have sheen, they preen; the bass lines are pelvic; the drums cuff and snap; and the vocals, of course, were all recorded in denim jackets on chaise longues.
i’m talking about orange juice, the smiths, the monochrome set, and orchestral manoeuvres in the dark. plus lots of elvis costello and lots and lots of early r.e.m.. and some public image ltd. and talking heads/tom tom club, certain cure hits, a dabble of kraftwerk, the jonzun crew, even the late malcolm mclaren. they’re songs that make me nostalgic for something that i know deep down i never had in the first place.
#650: talking heads - houses in motion (live, 1980)
i hope david byrne stumbles on a copy of the observer while biking around town this week and finds my mortgage trader profile, which begins, “greg lippmann was sitting in a coffee shop on a recent weekend afternoon, wearing a t-shirt, light yellow plaid shorts and spring court sneakers without socks.” and somehow the mortgages will remind david byrne of his old talking heads song houses in motion, which on his bike he’ll start singing aloud, and when he gets to the lines that’s like “wearing shoes with no socks,” he’ll grin his nice david byrne grin.
#604: talking heads - uh-oh, love comes to town (1978)
some songs sound like candy and concrete at the same time. this one is a manhattan manhole cover made from an oversized lollipop.
#522: willie nelson - mr. record man (1965)
the fact that all five of last night’s grammy rock nominees are older than 50, and that their average age, according to my calculations, is 61.4 years, would lead a reasonable viewer to conclude that young people were not interested in (or good at) making superlative rock music last year. that is wrong.
so in january 2011, instead of nominating bob dylan, john fogerty, bruce springsteen, eric clapton, steve winwood, jeff beck, stevie wonder, booker t. jones, david byrne, elvis costello, levon helm, rambin’ jack elliott, loudon wainwright iii, willie nelson and (of course) neil young for grammys again, the academy should spend some of the ceremony showing clips of these glorious veterans in their prime (see above), take a few minutes to bring everyone up to speed on what they’ve been up to lately, and then dedicate the rest of the broadcast to serious quality time with the gloriously gaga and grizzly youth of today.
#475: tom tom club - wordy rappinghood (1981)
in 1980, david byrne put the talking heads on hiatus, so naturally bassist tina weymouth took her sisters and her husband and some friends to a dancehall in the bahamas to make the tom tom club’s debut album, a giant gulp of neon colored, double funky, triple poppy awesomeness. it’s also sort of a feminist triumph, considering the circumstances. and wordy rappinghood definitely made blondie’s rapture run home crying to its parents.
#432: kraftwerk - tour de france (1983)
there would be none of aphex twin’s window licking, umbrella dancing and face melting, none of dr. dre’s world class wrecking, none of talking heads’ globe-trotting skinny-tie soul and none of the cure’s drip-drip-dripping, just to think of a few random examples, if düsseldorf’s bionic superstars, kraftwerk, hadn’t realized that hardware has so much technicolor funkiness.
so it’s gleeful news that the band has a tectonic remastered box set called 12345678 the catalogue coming out soon. computers everywhere are shedding tears of human joy; men are turning into electrons; computation is procreation! information is medication! vibration is sensation! transformation is revelation! conversation is desperation! discrimination is isolation! interpretation is termination!
it’s always seemed unfair that the police were called new wave. isn’t new wave too cool to include the police? from now on only elvis costello, nick lowe and the talking heads can be called new wave, plus these guys on the cover of le new wave, plus maybe the cure’s first album, plus whichever members of blondie that is who’s standing far right on the cover of parallel lines. he had good hair. everyone else has to find a new genre name, like sad old synth-pop, or maybe something like power-mod, sire-squeeze, or electro-plastic.
#255: talking heads - cities (1980, rome)
david byrne puts the arty in party.
#149: fatboy slim ft. david byrne & dizzee rascal - toejam (2008)
first of all, music videos are the new pornography.
secondly, why did fatboy slim just release an incredibly good song? is it 1998? the last time i listened to fatboy slim i was getting ready to ask lauren berkovitch to the laurel south summer camp social. (she said yes).
thirdly, david byrne is the only man alive who can begin a song with, “i was asking new york city, ‘do you like my clothes?’”
fourthly, i can’t understand a fucking word dizzee rascal ever says.