Dressed head-to-toe in blazing orange, David Byrne and his twelve-piece ensemble appeared poised to ignite the stage at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre. On a vast, uncluttered platform free from the usual amplifiers and microphone stands, the former Talking Heads frontman, now 73, radiated his signature twitchy energy in a spectacularly paced performance.
A Choreographed March Against Complacency
The show's template was clear, echoing the legendary incremental build of the 1984 Stop Making Sense tour, refined through his more recent American Utopia production. It opened with a haunting rendition of ‘Heaven’ from Talking Heads' 1979 album Fear of Music. Byrne was joined initially by just three core musicians: Ray Suen on violin, Kely Pinheiro on cello, and Daniel Mintseris with a synthesiser strapped to his waist.
As more performers filed on, each wearing portable percussion, the ensemble transformed into a dynamic, untethered marching band. The empty stage became a canvas for perpetual motion, with video screens projecting the troupe into shifting backdrops—from deserted department stores during ‘(Nothing But) Flowers’ to churning ocean waves for the funk-heavy ‘Slippery People’.
Politics, Identity, and Unflinching Commentary
This was far more than a nostalgia trip. The performance served as a pointed critique of the modern world. An early backdrop featured Earth, labelled “the only planet we’ve got,” setting a tone of urgent humanity. Byrne engaged the audience directly, questioning superficial judgements, a point hilariously underscored when a fan shouted, “You’re very sexy, David!”
His newer solo material, including tracks from the album Who Is the Sky?, held its own. ‘My Apartment Is My Friend’ offered a vulnerable tour of his New York home via the screens, while ‘T-shirt’ flashed slogans like “Make America Gay Again” and “Everyone Watches Women’s Sports,” drawing cheers and laughter from the Brisbane crowd.
Talking Heads Classics Anchor a Volatile Set
While the political commentary was sharp, the crowd's fervour peaked with nearly a full set of Talking Heads anthems. ‘This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)’ brought fans to their feet, but the most volatile moment arrived with ‘Life During Wartime.’ Byrne sang of growing accustomed to distant gunfire as footage of ICE squads and police confronting protesters played behind him, making the song's anxiety terrifyingly contemporary.
The musical fulcrum of the night was cellist and bassist Kely Pinheiro. She not only replicated Tina Weymouth's iconic lines but reinvented them, driving ‘Houses in Motion’ with a harder, double-time groove and commanding the spotlight with a cello-led ‘Psycho Killer.’
The evening culminated in an explosive ‘Burning Down the House.’ As the final notes rang out, the message was unmistakable. David Byrne’s masterfully choreographed spectacle was, at its core, a breathtaking and sombre portrayal of the incineration of the American dream—a ticket to watch the world burn, delivered with relentless hope and humanity.
