"Remain in light": Talking Heads' favorite album

Remain in Light is the fourth studio album by American rock band Talking Heads, released on October 8, 1980 by Sire Records. It was recorded at Compass Point Studios between July and August 1980 and was their final album to be produced by Brian Eno.

Much has been said over the years about the New York punk scene: how it differed from that of the endlessly more definable and anarchistic UK scene; and of the fertile lands that were the Bowery’s CBGB, spawning as it did the musically diverse sounds of Television, the Ramones, Patti Smith, Blondie and the epitome of edgy-geek-in-jumpers art-school new wavers, Talking Heads.

Led by the spirited David Byrne, this at times British-sounding four-piece deliberately avoided the usual punk rock clichés and confinements and delivered ever more unique and interesting visions, inspiring a generation of awkward would-be nerds to follow suit, and seeing out the decade as a critical and commercial juggernaut - heights most of their contemporaries wouldn’t dare dream.

This, their fourth album, is arguably their most accomplished work and most complete statement of enigmatic urban paranoia and alienation. Like its predecessor, 1979’s Fear of Music - also produced by enfant terrible, Brian Eno (in fact, he produced their sophomore effort too) - this moved the band further from their CBGB’s roots, embracing dance and afrobeat with a cavalcade of instrumentation, forever underpinned by Tina Weymouth’s funky bass sound and husband, Chris Frantz’s anchor-like drumming providing the headquarters for Byrne and Jerry Harrison’s (not to mention Eno’s) explorations.

Post-modern and toe-tapping, its Beefheart-esque deconstructionist approach to styles displayed a higher intelligence and a rarely matched gift for melody. Fela Kuti’s inspiration is all over this collection of songs, and the speed of the band’s development from jerky angularists to soaring afro-jazz in just over three years is nothing short of remarkable.

From funky opener, Born Under Punches, through to the eerie existential closer, The Overload, this album is dealing in currencies unseen before (or perhaps since). “And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack” sings Byrne on the album’s undeniable jewel, Once In A Lifetime, one of a number of songs that speak of a new found grasp of the physical world, always with Byrne’s fitful vocal inflections rising above the percussive horned layers and bursts of guitar - such as on third track, The Great Curve. A voice surely among rock’s finest, if unsung, instruments.

Eight unadulterated sensory classics. An album teeming with ideas and one that begs repeated listening. A world musical heritage site. A trove bursting with treasure for the whole of humanity to enjoy - it’s just a shame that so many will never get to hear it.