TALKING HEADS : ANN ARBOR 1978

 

  1. The Big Country
  2. Warning Sign
  3. The Book I Read
  4. Stay Hungry
  5. Artists Only
  6. The Girls Want to Be With the Girls
  7. The Good Thing
  8. Uh-Oh, Love Comes to Town
  9. Love -> Building on Fire
  10. Electricity
  11. Found a Job
  12. New Feeling
  13. Pulled Up
  14. Psycho Killer
  15. Take Me to the River
  16. Thank You for Sending Me an Angel
  17. I’m Not in Love

Label : no label

Venue : Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre, Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA

Recording Date : October 19, 1978

Length : 72:55

Quality : Soundboard Recording (A+)

Concert Review (The Michigan Daily) : One of the most distinctive and strangely captivating rock bands to visit Ann Arbor this fall took the stage at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre on Thursday night. Talking Heads, a key group to emerge from New York’s growing New Wave movement, delivered a performance that immediately set itself apart from a typical rock show. The choice of venue — normally home to theatrical productions and formal speeches — created an atmosphere that signaled something different was about to happen. From the moment the band appeared, it was clear that this would not be a conventional concert but a carefully shaped artistic experience. Talking Heads’ commitment to their own musical vision was evident throughout the night. They opened with “The Big Country,” a track that is neither concise nor especially catchy, and their wardrobe choices reinforced their refusal to cater to mainstream expectations. Except for drummer Chris Frantz, dressed casually in light colors, the band appeared in dark, understated clothing. David Byrne, the group’s singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter, dominated the stage. His jittery, intense presence — at times bordering on the unhinged — made him look like he could have challenged Jack Nicholson for the lead role in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. His long, fixed stares could be unsettling, yet they felt genuine rather than calculated. Unlike Elvis Costello’s self-conscious image-crafting, Byrne seemed simply overtaken by the music. Jerry Harrison, on keyboards and guitar, projected a different kind of detachment. While Byrne appeared lost in another dimension, Harrison seemed deeply absorbed in the mechanics of his playing, focused inward rather than outward. Bassist Tina Weymouth emerged as the most approachable and endearing member of the group, a fact confirmed by the spontaneous cheers she received from the audience. Her small frame, mischievous expression, and shy smile contrasted with the band’s overall seriousness. She watched Byrne closely throughout the show, as if unsure what unpredictable move he might make next. Her reserved demeanor reflected the band’s artistic discipline: little overt emotion, no wild release — this was music treated as craft, not spectacle. Frantz, meanwhile, stood out as the outlier. His clean-cut, cheerful appearance made him look more like a typical American college student than a member of a tense, cerebral New Wave band. Musically, Talking Heads proved just as intricate as their stage presence suggested. Their songs felt meticulously constructed, as though fully arranged before ever being played. Byrne’s guitar work focused more on creating textures and effects than on traditional melody. Live, the musicians allowed themselves more freedom than on their records, though Frantz’s drumming seemed to revert to the simpler style of their debut album rather than the layered rhythms of More Songs About Buildings and Food. Weymouth’s playing, however, showed remarkable growth. Though her bass sometimes seemed almost too large for her, she handled it with increasing creativity and technical skill. She also demonstrated a refined ability to shape her tone manually, producing a surprising range of sounds. Byrne excelled at shaping moods with his guitar, though his attempts at conventional solos felt out of place and lacked direction. His vocals, on the other hand, were looser and more compelling than on the band’s albums, with his trademark shouts and muttered asides adding personality. Harrison, better known for his keyboard work, spent much of the night on guitar due to reported problems with the organ and synthesizer. While he proved to be a strong rhythm guitarist, the absence of his keyboard parts left some songs feeling thinner than their studio versions. Tracks from the second album — especially “Take Me to the River” — lost some of the depth provided by Brian Eno’s production. Still, the live arrangements were far from mere imitations. Byrne’s vocal improvisations, extended instrumental passages, and altered solos gave many songs a fresh identity, often compensating for the missing studio layers. The reviewer left the concert with mixed feelings. The band played with precision, but their emotional distance created a sense of detachment. Although Byrne twice encouraged the audience to dance, no one stood until the final number, “Psycho Killer,” one of their most recognizable early songs. The performance highlighted the band’s shift toward greater complexity and experimentation. A new, unreleased song titled “Electricity” was the most intellectually stimulating piece of the night — intricate and unpredictable — but also the least physically energizing. Byrne may not fully grasp how undanceable the band can be in a live setting. Their restraint generates enormous tension and power, but they rarely provide the release that many concertgoers expect. This tension is part of what makes their music so compelling, yet it can leave an audience unsure how to respond.