David Byrne's latest tour has arrived at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre, and in true Talking Heads style, it delivers a visceral experience that leaves viewers on the edge of their seats.
The 73-year-old singer and polymath takes to the stage dressed in an iridescent orange outfit, exuding energy and twitchy enthusiasm. The show's template is built around his iconic Stop Making Sense tour from 1984, reworked through American Utopia – a fittingly atmospheric backdrop for tonight's performance.
The Earth takes center stage as Byrne introduces Heaven, the opening track from Talking Heads' 1979 album Fear of Music, its existential power still resonating. A poignant visual reminder that we are the only planet "we've got," this sets the tone for an evening that will explore the human condition and our place in the world.
As the show progresses, Byrne's humanity shines through – his vulnerability, his passion, his desire to spread a message of hope and love. On My Apartment Is My Friend, a video screens displays a tour of his NYC pad, revealing the highs and lows of his life, serving as a reminder that even in isolation, we are never alone.
Throughout the performance, Byrne's band – augmented by additional musicians – is impressively multiracial and gendered, reflecting the theme of the night. "What if we all judged people by their appearances?" Byrne asks rhetorically, prompting an instant reply that only he can deliver: a sassy remark about his own sexiness.
These solo moments may not be part of the main setlist, but they don't disrupt the momentum of this superbly paced and choreographed show. The Talking Heads classics – including This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) – always get the crowd moving, while newer tracks like Houses in Motion showcase Pinheiro's cello skills to stunning effect.
Life During Wartime is perhaps the most chilling moment of the set, its prescient lyrics eerily relevant in today's climate. The visuals add a layer of unease as Byrne sings about gunfire off in the distance – this ain't no party; it's terrifyingly real.
As Burning Down the House brings the show to a close, the energy is palpable. But there's also a sense of foreboding – you might get what you're after, and it's not always pretty. This spectacular performance by David Byrne serves as a timely reminder that our world needs hope, humanity, and love – and a strong dose of reality.
While some may dismiss the show as a spectacle, I'd argue it's nothing less than the incineration of the American dream – a searing critique of our society that will linger long after the curtain call. This is a performance that demands attention, sparks conversation, and leaves you questioning everything. It's a testament to David Byrne's artistry and vision that his show will continue to resonate with audiences for years to come.
The 73-year-old singer and polymath takes to the stage dressed in an iridescent orange outfit, exuding energy and twitchy enthusiasm. The show's template is built around his iconic Stop Making Sense tour from 1984, reworked through American Utopia – a fittingly atmospheric backdrop for tonight's performance.
The Earth takes center stage as Byrne introduces Heaven, the opening track from Talking Heads' 1979 album Fear of Music, its existential power still resonating. A poignant visual reminder that we are the only planet "we've got," this sets the tone for an evening that will explore the human condition and our place in the world.
As the show progresses, Byrne's humanity shines through – his vulnerability, his passion, his desire to spread a message of hope and love. On My Apartment Is My Friend, a video screens displays a tour of his NYC pad, revealing the highs and lows of his life, serving as a reminder that even in isolation, we are never alone.
Throughout the performance, Byrne's band – augmented by additional musicians – is impressively multiracial and gendered, reflecting the theme of the night. "What if we all judged people by their appearances?" Byrne asks rhetorically, prompting an instant reply that only he can deliver: a sassy remark about his own sexiness.
These solo moments may not be part of the main setlist, but they don't disrupt the momentum of this superbly paced and choreographed show. The Talking Heads classics – including This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) – always get the crowd moving, while newer tracks like Houses in Motion showcase Pinheiro's cello skills to stunning effect.
Life During Wartime is perhaps the most chilling moment of the set, its prescient lyrics eerily relevant in today's climate. The visuals add a layer of unease as Byrne sings about gunfire off in the distance – this ain't no party; it's terrifyingly real.
As Burning Down the House brings the show to a close, the energy is palpable. But there's also a sense of foreboding – you might get what you're after, and it's not always pretty. This spectacular performance by David Byrne serves as a timely reminder that our world needs hope, humanity, and love – and a strong dose of reality.
While some may dismiss the show as a spectacle, I'd argue it's nothing less than the incineration of the American dream – a searing critique of our society that will linger long after the curtain call. This is a performance that demands attention, sparks conversation, and leaves you questioning everything. It's a testament to David Byrne's artistry and vision that his show will continue to resonate with audiences for years to come.