Old Enough to Forget

I was never really what you'd call a big fan of Talking Heads. I was a casual and I knew more than a few songs. They were kind of cool, but also irritating. I think part of my active ambivalence stemmed from when I was a kid watching them back in '79 when they were on Saturday Night Live. It was their performance of "Artists Only" with the child like lullaby that I found befuddling. This was '79 and art rock was pretentious and stupid - at least to me. I wanted to hear the big guitars and rock out. Why I still remember a performance I saw on TV a grand total of one time is a mystery. This was the cornerstone of my reaction to Talking Heads for a long time, and while I'd freely admit to enjoying a lot of what I heard, on balance my opinion was primarily dismissive. Then came the summer of '83 and I'm driving down the freeway in my little blue Nissan Pulsar and I've taken the sunroof out and the top of my head is poking out of the hole in the roof. I...