This Must Be The Place

David Byrne played last night in Central Park to a house of dedicated, wet fans. Ann and I were among them.

Accompanied by the Tosca Strings he played many songs from his solo albums (highlights:
She Only Sleeps With Me” and “Like Humans Do”) plus some old Talking Heads chestnuts (“Life During Wartime,” “I Zimbra,” “Road To Nowhere” and many others.) I’ve seen Mr. Byrne five times now, and this is the only time that I’ve seen him take rockin’ Neil Young-esque guitar solos. He performed “Psycho Killer” pretty spare, with just the strings beneath him, until he ripped out his axe, so to speak, and the drums kicked in. It was an unexpected moment. Also unexpected was the gorgeous reworking of Jimi Hendrix’s “One Rainy Wish,” the title of which an unpredicted pun.

Lastly, at the end of the show, Byrne and Co. disappeared and a wild collection of New Orleans brass performers took the stage. They were groovy.

For millions of years, In millions of homes
A man loved a woman, A child it was born
It learned how to hurt and it learned how to cry
Like Humans Do

I’m achin’
I’m shakin’
I’m breakin’
Like Humans Do
I’m breathin’ in
I’m breathing out
Ohhhhhh!