START MAKING SENSE

An Audience With David Byrne

Published in SOS February 1998
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People + Opinion : Artists/Engineers/Producers/Programmers

Ask anyone who remembers the music of the 1980s what they think of when they hear the name 'David Byrne' and the chances are they'll give you an impromptu rendition of either 'Road To Nowhere' or 'Days Gone By' -- the two Talking Heads songs everyone seems to know.

Given that Byrne was responsible for fronting the seminal New York new wave band for 16 years, it isn't surprising that public perception still has him stuck firmly in the last decade. One can't deny that it is hard to separate him from his past -- especially when the Talking Heads legacy includes 11 hugely influential albums, such as 1982's The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads and the classic 1984 release Stop Making Sense, which was both an album and a tour movie directed by Jonathan Demme.

A DOLL OF A SLEEVE     The only way one can forgive Byrne his dreadful choice of title for his last album is to check out the sleeve design, which is stunning. "I had the idea of having a doll of myself, because I thought it would be fun to poke fun at my image," he says. "It also seemed so obvious that I was surprised no one else had done it. I thought I'd better do it, quick, before someone else does, because it's one of those things that can only be done once." The creation of the doll was first attempted with computers. Byrne had his head scanned with a laser in Emeryville, California, but wasn't happy with the computerised results. "It looked too cyber -- like a Kraftwerk album cover -- so in the end the Luddites won. The designer Stephen Sagmeister and I went to see Yuji Yoshimoto who lives in Brooklyn and makes giant super-realistic plastic candy bars and Cheerios for Saturday morning commercials. We asked him to sculpt real dolls of me, expressing four of my typical moods -- pissed off, crying, stupidly happy and dull gaze. "I really wanted the doll to look like a toy or product, and actually it was a great deal more complex than we envisaged, although no more expensive. I also got to take home little dollies of myself, and they're now in a shrine. Everyone who comes to see me has to bow down to them..." Was he joking? Actually, he was -- they're really decorating the Byrne mantelpiece.

But come on folks: isn't it time we gave the guy a break? After all, Byrne left Talking Heads more than six years ago and since then he's been incredibly busy developing parallel careers as an artist, photographer, film score composer and figurehead of his own record label, Luaka Bop. And let's not forget his four solo albums, which have explored a multitude of musical styles, while pulling in plenty of critical acclaim along the way.

In many respects the most current solo offering from David Byrne -- the album Feelings, which was released last year -- is the one most likely to re-establish his identity with a broader music-buying public. While his initial diversification into ethnic music was sufficiently esoteric to cost him mainstream sales, Feelings' clever synergy of styles such as drum & bass and Cajun fiddle playing do indicate the possibility of mass-market appeal. The album is lyrically strong, too, even if some of the lyrics are ugly enough to be disconcerting. But at least they offer a welcome return to Byrne's renowned weird wit, so perfectly exemplified by the promo video for the track 'Miss America' in which the world's most excessive consumerist country is personified as a supermodel with her pants round her ankles!

Feelings is an interesting album that was recorded almost by committee, given the number of collaborators David Byrne collected along the way. Not only did he collaborate with unusual producers and musicians, such as Morcheeba in London, The Black Cat Orchestra in Seattle, Devo in Los Angeles, Joe Galdo in Miami and Hahn Rowe and C'n'A in New York, but he also recorded the vast majority of the tracks in other people's home studios, where he was able to capture a vibe and atmosphere that might not have been possible anywhere else.

"I have a home studio, but it's pretty basic," he says. "Not good for much more than writing and demos. But after writing a bunch of songs and doing some demos, a few things occurred to me: that home studio recordings now sound as good as big name studio recordings and that, often, the vibe in that environment is more conducive to creativity. Also, the songs appeared to be in a wide variety of styles that might best be interpreted by different groups of musicians."

Byrne adds that, in writing, he mixed musical styles freely. This, he says, is always good for a laugh. "One song -- 'The Gates Of Paradise' -- developed into a blend of jungle and country and western, with a slight punk attitude. Another song, 'Daddy Go Down', mixes Cajun with Indian drones and sitars."

According to Byrne, none of this was intentional or premeditated. "We all seem to have all these musical styles and reference points floating around in our heads, things we've heard at one time or another that rub off on us -- sometimes in small ways, as a feeling in a melodic turn of phrase, other times in the overall style of a song. There's a subconscious cut and paste going on in our heads that doesn't seem strange at all. It seems like the most natural thing in the world. It's the way we live now. It's certainly what things look like and increasingly what they sound like -- ad

"I think the reason why some of the home recordings people do work out so well is because a home studio has a lot less wiring than a professional facility."

hoc, patchwork. Borrowing from both the past and future, from here and there."

Byrne adds that this cut and paste approach was something he had heard in Brazil on Chico Science's record, and in Argentina through the work of Illya Kuryaki -- not to mention Björk, Portishead, Beck and Cibo Matto. As a result, he began working on a few songs at a time with Hahn Rowe, a DJ, programmer and musician in New York. They took up residence in Byrne's home studio, mixing live instruments with samples, loops and effected sounds, and recording on fairly minimal home equipment which included a Soundcraft 600-series console and a couple of Tascam DA88 digital 8-tracks. At this stage of the project a number of tracks were in the pipeline, but only one -- 'Soft Seduction' -- was actually completed.

Then Byrne was sent a tape by Meredith Chinn, his A&R contact at Warner Brothers (which distributes all Luaka Bop product worldwide). The tape was an advance copy of Morcheeba's Who Can You Trust, which was certainly unusual enough to make him sit up and take note. [See the interview with Morcheeba in the December 1997 issue of SOS.]

"At that point Morcheeba's cassette was being passed around by their label, China, because they needed a distributor," he explains. "It was quite early days, but I had already heard of them -- and heard all the usual record company comments about them being another Portishead because they were using similar techniques, although, in my opinion, coming up with very different results.

"They were mixing new samples and loops and beats with regular instruments, which wasn't unique, but was at least different from the way artists like the Chemical Brothers work, where the closest you come to a real instrument might be a sample of something. The latter style of working is fine by me, but it's not where I was at. I wanted to mix samples with real instruments, and I was attracted to Morcheeba because I heard that in their own loose way they were still working within a song structure. They were also coming out with a lot of dance music influences, which is similar to work I've done over the years, so there was a strong link between us."

LUAKA BOP AND THE INTERNET     Apart from his own recording projects, Byrne is also heavily involved in Luaka Bop, the label he set up in 1989 as a vehicle for some of the ethnic influences for which he wants an outlet. Luaka Bop signs external artists that Byrne either discovers for himself or picks up from other labels for the American market. One example of this is the band Cornershop, which mixes hip hop with indie and punk. The band are signed to Ouija in the UK but handled by Byrne's label in the US. "We occasionally do this, but more often we hear something we like and sign it for the universe," he laughs. "We are distributed through WEA, so part of our job is also to hassle them in various territories so that they work on our material. Often it's a case of nudging, haranguing and cajoling from our end, but for the most part they like what we do so we don't have to push too hard." Luaka Bop is currently setting up a web site which will be used to promote its artists. "It will have the usual label stuff -- songs you can listen to from each artist, video samples, interviews, lyrics," he says. "There will also be a facility to buy our material over the Internet by using a credit card. That may not seem much if you live in the middle of London or New York, but if you are somewhere like Iowa and the only record shop is a Woolworth's you might find it pretty handy." Apart from the obvious, Luaka Bop also hopes to expand into what Byrne describes as 'crazy stuff' -- art galleries, magazines, and so on. "Sometimes I find the Internet exciting because it's great when you can get information from anywhere in the world at the push of a button, but I'm not sure if it will change the world in the way people think. It has been subjected to a lot of hype, although undoubtedly it will change marketing and information services. "It is thrilling, though. I was in New York recently and wanted to find out more about a band called Lamb from the UK. As I was going over to London I thought it would be interesting to see if they were playing live anywhere. I looked them up on the web and sure enough, there was a list of all their dates -- one of which I was able to catch. That was pretty great. Without the Internet I'd have had to scour New York for a copy of Time Out, and even if I had found one it might well have been out of date."

Given this similarity, Byrne decided to call up the three-piece from South London and see if they wanted to work on a few songs with him. Needless to say, they said yes, so he took a couple of guitars and some pedals over to Clapham and holed up in Morcheeba's home studio for a few weeks.

"The time went really quickly and we got on really well," he says. "We all loved the results. In the next few months, when they had breaks from live dates, I'd show up and we'd cut a few more songs, until we'd done half the album."

Moving on from Morcheeba, Byrne turned his attention to The Black Cat Orchestra, who he'd come across in Seattle. "They naturally came to mind when I imagined the way 'They Are In Love' might sound," he says. "So I flew out there with my Dobro -- which we never used -- and we recorded the tune pretty much live."

He also did a couple of album tracks with Andreas and Camus (C'n'A) whom he had worked with previously on a duet with Brazilian singer Marisa Monte for the Red Hot and Rio album. These were recorded in the pair's Brooklyn apartment, where they also had a home studio setup.

For the track 'Miss America', Byrne teamed up with Joe Galdo, who had previously worked with artists such as Anjelique Kidjo, and achieved the kind of Afro-techno results he was looking for.

Then it was on to yet another home studio -- this time the one belonging to Mark Mothersbaugh, of Devo. To Byrne, the album track 'Wicked Little Doll', with its obsessive, twisted, robotic riff and mechanical rhythms, seemed particularly Devo-esque, so working with Devo was an obvious next step.

Overall, Byrne describes Feelings as a dream record to make. "It was like picturing in my mind how a song should sound and then hooking up with a group who did just that," he says. "Sometimes it worked. And sometimes it was beyond painless -- fun even."

Underlying the entire project -- no matter which track he was working on -- was Byrne's contention that what really matters is the groove. "This was certainly an incentive for working with Morcheeba," he says. "They were particularly good fun, and I think they are great record producers, even though I'm not sure that's how they see themselves. I really thought of them as musicians first and felt it would be great to hang out with musicians who do things the way I do when I'm making music.

"I tend to work with getting a groove going -- a groove, or a little bit of melody, or a few guitar chords, or something like that. Then words usually come last.

"Occasionally I've worked the other way round, where I put the lyric first, and sometimes that can turn out really well. You end up writing with more feeling because you're not waiting for inspiration of some kind, and often the original melody you come up with is simple and direct as opposed to something that's clever-clever."

Ever since the early Talking Heads days, David Byrne has earned a reputation for lyrics that make you sit up and listen. So does this mean, when he listens to a song by someone else, that he hears the lyric before the music -- or is it the other way round?

"I'm kind of borderline between the two," he says. "I can not love the lyric and still love the song, but if I really dislike the lyric then it's gone too far -- gone over the edge into something I can't bear, particularly if the lyric is really cheesy. When that happens, no matter how much I like the music, I know the song is so far over the other side of the fence that I just can't bring myself to listen to it.

"Ideally, though, when I'm writing songs, I like the musical and lyrical content to gel together so that at least the end result sounds as though you've had a simultaneous experience. Of course, actually having a simultaneous experience is very rare, but when you get lucky and that does happen you usually find the song is great."

Even before he recorded Feelings, David Byrne says he was aware of the growing importance of home studios, particularly as a means of creating opportunity for everyone.

"It seems to me that, with the recent advent of relatively cheap home-type recording equipment with studio-quality sound, not only will anybody with two turntables and a microphone be making records, but everyone else too, in an incredible variety of styles and approaches - and everywhere. This stuff is going to put musicians all over the world on an even more equal footing with Western pop/alternative/urban musicians. They were always equal as far as playing and writing went, but now more and more of them will be able to express what it feels like -- the global media atmosphere that we breathe every day."

"I really like the warmth of valve gear and I mix it with affordable digital equipment like the DA88s, so that I can get as warm a sound as possible."

Byrne is disparaging about his own home setup. "I have a studio - sort of," he laughs. "It's really a few bits of gear in my apartment that I use when I want to get away from everyone. Not too many people have the phone number, so it's peaceful and quiet and I can cut myself off from external distractions.

"The equipment I have is pretty basic. There's an old 16-channel Soundcraft 600 Series desk, two Tascam DA88s and an old tube compressor, a tube limiter and a tube preamp. I really like the warmth of valve gear and I mix it with affordable digital equipment like the DA88s, so that I can get as warm a sound as possible. I think the reason why some of the home recordings people do work out so well is because a home studio has a lot less wiring than a professional facility. Also, the atmosphere is more immediate and in your face. It helps being in an environment where you're relaxed and comfortable and where no one is telling you how something is supposed to sound."

As befits its basic nature, Byrne's home studio is equipped with a pair of Yamaha NS10s for monitoring. He admits that they're not ideal but seems to be muddling along fine anyway. "I suppose eventually I will get something a little louder," he says. "I would like a pair of monitors that are bigger and offer more bass so that if I'm playing instruments along with loops I can have the mic amp off in another room -- in a closet or some place -- and can crank up the speakers so that it still feels like I can groove on the beat and the instrument. I certainly need more powerful monitors, but I don't think I'll go for the giant, wall-mounted ones that some of the commercial studios have. Sure, if you really want to hear what's going on then it's useful to have big monitors, but although I find big monitors exciting I also find easy to lose all perspective when I listen to them, because they don't sound like the speakers you listen to at home -- and nor do they sound like club systems because they're not EQ'd in the same way."

"I have to ask myself: what kind of record would I love to put on right now, or later, or first thing in the morning? And if I can't find that record, because nobody has made it, then that's the next record I want to make."

Although Byrne recorded his album on a wide variety of home setups, the final mixing took place in a commercial studio -- Room With A View in New York, where he worked with UK producer Mark Saunders.

"It was basically a mix room with an SSL and some outboard gear. Mark had some of his own gear with him, which meant that if he thought we needed a particular sound in a particular place, he could just fly it in from his own samplers and computers. It was a nice, relaxed way of working and we generally got one track done a day - sometimes more. The studio had a couple of nice-sounding old limiters and compressors that we could put the mix through if we wanted that extra bit of warmth on a track."

Byrne adds that there isn't really any piece of recording equipment he feels he must have with him wherever he works. "When I write I have to have something that will give me a groove, but usually that's something as simple as an old drum machine," he says. "Granted, mixing in some samples and loops gives me more texture, which is a little more inspirational, but if I had to work without them I could certainly do it. I like to feel I'm not chained to a piece of gear, although the more bits and pieces you use the more you get used to having them around."

He isn't a great hard disk enthusiast, either -- mainly, he admits, because he has had little experience of recording in this way. "Mark has a hard disk system that he used during the mix for a bit of editing on some tracks, but we didn't use it for recording -- just for messing around, really."

With his last album now long past the recording stage, David Byrne has been concentrating on touring in the US and Europe. Later this year he will also take in South America, before finally returning to his home studio to start work on some new material.

DAVID BYRNE GEAR LIST     Akai S2800 sampler Alesis D4 drum rack Ampeg Gemini II bass/accordion/guitar amp Ampex valve preamp AMS reverb Apple Mac Powerbook 540 Assorted guitars and effects (Electric Mistress, Roland Space Echo and Ibanez Auto Filter effects; Gretsch, Gibson and Fender guitars, Vox bass) Autoharp dbx compressors Glockenspiel Harmonium MOTU MIDI patchbay Nikko low-powered amp Rickenbacker lap steel Sennheiser 421 microphone Sequential Prophet 5 (MIDI retrofitted) Shure Beta 57 & 58 microphones Soundcraft 600-series 16-channel desk Tascam DA88 digital 8-track (x2) Valve compressor Vox AC30 amp

"I've put together a band that can also play some of my older material live, although I didn't expect anyone to be able to play all of it," he says. "I think it's difficult to make the transition from studio to stage if you try and replicate exactly what you put down on the recording. There's a fine line you have to tread. You want the live music to keep the same feel in terms of the vibe you captured on record, but you do have some scope to make changes, and maybe you end up with some part of some songs transforming into something quite different, so that you're giving your live audience a new experience.

"Obviously you want to capture the energy and emotion of the track, and, of course, the melody and lyrics have to say the same thing. But some audiences do expect to hear what's on the CD, even though it's almost impossible to recreate that in a live setting - even when you use samplers for some of the sounds.

"A good example of how you can make changes is the live version we did recently of 'Road To Nowhere'. All the drums bar one were samples and loops, which left the drummer to play marching snare drum along with the samples. We also made some other changes, substituting the accordion part we originally had on the track with a pedal steel player doing exactly the same melodies and riffs. After the show someone reviewing the performance said he was astounded, because the song had sounded exactly like the record. I was surprised by that, because there had been quite major changes and substitutions, but I gather what he meant was that the feel of the song had remained the same. We had succeeded in catching the vibe.

"It's really not important to duplicate everything. People hear what they want to hear. You have to know where the most important elements are so that you can retain those while letting other things slide."

Byrne says his inspiration to write and perform music came from a desire to hear more of the music he liked on the radio. "When I was starting out, there were a few records around that I liked, but not enough. I had to make my own records and put my own band together so that we could hear what we wanted to hear.

"I imagine that's the same impulse that has always been there. I guess even now I have to ask myself the same thing: what kind of record would I love to put on right now, or later, or first thing in the morning? And if I can't find that record, because nobody has made it, then that's the next record I want to make -- the one that doesn't exist."