REVIEW: David Byrne & Fatboy Slim - HERE LIES LOVE

“The story I am interested in is about asking what drives a powerful person—what makes them tick? How do they make and then remake themselves? I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be great if—as this piece would be principally composed of clubby dance music—one could experience it in a club setting? Could one bring a ‘story’ and a kind of theater to the disco? Was that possible? If so, wouldn’t that be amazing!” - David Byrne

I’m a huge fan of the Talking Heads, and yet for some reason I’ve never got around to listening to any of David Byrne’s other work. Perhaps it’s because I know I’ll only be disappointed; in my mind Byrne is some kind of infallible super-being and however great his post-Heads output may be, I’ll only end up comparing it unfavourably to Fear of Music and Remain In Light. Despite this, upon hearing he was releasing a two-disc concept album with Fatboy Slim, I decided to give a listen. 

The opening (and title) track starts off promisingly enough, until Florence “The Foghorn” Welch’s trademark bellowing comes in and proceeds to exact some twisted aural torture for what seems like an eternity. Next track Every Drop Of Rain is similarly awful, Candie Payne and St Vincent tag-teaming a weak vocal over a tune that sounds like the opening theme to an interior decoration programme. Except the theme tune lasts more than five minutes.

Over the rest of the album’s 90 minute running time (90 FUCKING MINUTES!!) there is plenty more to disappoint. The album’s failings are threefold; firstly, the focus of the record, the life and loves of the former First Lady of the Philippines Imelda Marcos, will be unfamiliar to the vast majority of people and the narrative just isn’t strong enough to stand up on its own. Secondly, the collaboration between David Bynre and Fatboy Slim is an uneasy one; the songs often sound as if the duo’s respective ideas have been unceremoniously forced together, and the result is rarely pretty. The third, and biggest problem is the albums use of a rotating cast of guest vocalists.

There are twenty-two different vocalists on this record, the overwhelming majority of whom are women. For a concept album, this is a risky strategy and the lack of a unifying voice ultimately destroys the record’s narrative. If the use of so many different vocalists was meant to create diversity, Byrne and Cook have failed on this front too. Listening to the record I spent a good quarter of the time convinced I was listening to Kate Bush impersonators of varying proficiency. Another annoyance is that David Byrne sings lead on only one song, and the underuse of his unique voice is hard to justify.

The record’s overall failure is made all the more disappointing by the few moments of brilliance scattered across the album. Kate Pierson (of B-52s fame) gives an inspired performance on The Whole Man, while I’ll be sure to check out more of French singer Camille based on the excellent Pretty Face. Eleven Days is one of the few tracks on which the collaboration between Byrne and Cook really works, and Cyndi Lauper’s distinctive vocals also help make this a highlight, alongside her second appearence duetting with Tori Amos on the album’s closer. Steve Earle benefits from being (with the exception of Byrne) the records sole male vocalist, and A Perfect Hand could have easily fit on the Talking Heads album Little Creatures, a high compliment indeed!

Overall, it’s hard to fault this album’s ambition and when it works it works brilliantly. Within this record is a brilliant 30 minute pop album - it’s a shame that the other 60 minutes can’t maintain this quality.

5/10

Sample the album below…

Jed. x