Review by David Byrne – Hope, humanity and dance in a wonderfully paced show | David Byrne

DDavid Byrne and his 12-piece backing band, head to toe in iridescent orange, look like they’re about to catch fire. On a spacious, empty stage – devoid of speakers, microphones or any of the usual things that anchor a live performance – the former Talking Heads frontman is still brimming with restless energy.

Fortunately, there is no spontaneous combustion. The template for tonight’s spectacle remains the legendary 1984 Stop Make Sense tour – Via American Utopia – The supply is built in increments. It starts slowly with “Heaven,” from Talking Heads’ 1979 album Fear of Music, a song that has lost none of its existential power.

If the 73-year-old singer and polymath is unaware of the afterlife, he is passionately interested in the present. The first visible background we see is Earth, “the only planet we have.” Over the course of two hours at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre, what fans get feels like a ticket to watch the world burn.

On Heaven, he was joined by three core members of his band: Ray Swain on violin (later guitar), Kelly Pinheiro on cello (later, bass) and Daniel Mentsiris, playing an instrument he wears around his waist. Then, other musicians join in, and many percussionists also wear pieces of equipment.

It allows the whole band to perform more like an orchestra. With nothing restricted, everyone is always in motion. Behind them, video screens display them in a variety of settings. In (Nothing But) Flowers, they are in an empty store, then in a cornfield; On the raucous funk of Slippery People, they get thrown into the ocean.

The band is impressively multi-ethnic and multi-gender, which is the theme of the night. “What if we all judged people by their appearance?” Byrne asks rhetorically. There’s an immediate response: “You’re so hot, David!” In short, he breaks the character and cracks, and then avoids that this is the perfect example of what he is talking about. Appearances can be deceiving.

It also tells us that punk is all about love and kindness these days. I’m not so sure – to me, it sounds suspiciously like hippies who deluded themselves that handing out flowers would defeat Nixon. As Stephen Miller, Trump’s deputy chief goon, reminded us, we now live in a world “governed by power, governed by power, governed by power.”

But we all need a little hope, and Byrne’s humanity is endearing. What is surprising is its weakness. On My Apartment Is My Friend (one of two songs from his new album, Who Is the Sky?), the video screens give us a grand tour of his New York City pad, a place that saw his best and worst. He admits that he lives alone and feels like it.

In an old single, T-Shirt — a satirical paean to another kind of identity politics, where branding is a form of association — we get pointy logos. “Make America Gay Again” brings cheers and “everyone watches women’s sports” laughter. It’s safe to assume that Byrne is unlikely to play the renamed Trump-Kennedy Center any time soon.

These solo songs may not be what most of the audience came for, but they don’t disrupt the momentum of a show that is wonderfully paced and wonderfully choreographed. There’s no reason to complain as nearly half the set is made up of Talking Heads classics, and This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) was the first to bring fans to their feet.

After Byrne, the star of the show throughout is Pinheiro, whose playing is the fulcrum of everything. Much more than simply replicating Tina Weymouth’s original parts, she gives Houses in Motion a harder edge, with a new double-time coda. Later, she dominated the spotlight again, using the cello as the lead instrument on Psycho Killer.

The most volatile moment in the set is “Life During War”, arguably the most prescient and disturbing punk/new wave era song ever. “The sound of gunfire in the distance / I’m used to it now,” Byrne sings, as footage of ICE teams and New York City cops confronting protesters appears behind him.

This is not a party, this is not a disco. It’s terrifyingly real.

While Byrne is playing, there’s at least a little time to dance and have fun. Burning Down the House is the closest, and when it goes off, it reminds us to be careful – you might get what you’re looking for. It’s an amazing show. But the scene is nothing less than the burning of the American dream.