David Byrne looks to the sky and rediscovers lightness

Louis Thomas Hardin wore nothing but his homemade clothes. Although he was blind, he was a composer, musician and invented some instruments, such as the trimba. The attention around the 'Viking of 6th Avenue', known by the pseudonym Moondog, began to grow in the final phase of his career, in the 1990s. Since then, tributes to his career have not been few, as evidenced by the album the Ghost Train Orchestra dedicated to him in 2023. When David Byrne heard that record, he already had a drawer full of sketches. A few grooves, some vocal and guitar demos popped up during the last concerts of the 'American Utopia' tour.

Byrne's eighth studio album was released in 2018, in the midst of a Trumpian storm, and his live schedule suffered a pandemic lockdown in which the Talking Heads singer cooked and drew 'a lot', as well as jotting down isolated phrases and actual stanzas. During that suspended time, Byrne took the opportunity to find the right answers to profound questions: 'Do I like what I'm doing? Why am I writing songs, or doing this work, or whatever? Does it really matter?" All this led to "Who Is The Sky?", an album recorded with the fifteen musicians of Ghost Train and enhanced by Kid Harpoon's production, as well as guest appearances by Hayley Williams of Paramore, St Vincent and percussionist Tom Skinner. For the Talking Heads singer, the new album is "a chance to be the mythical creature we all keep inside, a chance to enter another reality, to transcend and break out of the prison of our 'self'". Shira Inbar translated this into psychedelic graphics, where Byrne's clothes, designed by Belgian artist Tom Van Der Borght, stand out.

As his career testifies, David Byrne is obsessed with the idea of the collective. It is no coincidence that the penultimate track on 'American Utopia' was entitled 'Everybody's Coming to My House', while 'Who Is The Sky?' opens with the sunny 'Everybody Laughs'. The "everybody" turns into "we" for "When We Are Singing", another high melodic moment. In fact, Byrne's new twelve songs are almost all under three and a half minutes, exuding cheerfulness while blending various sounds. In short, everything the artist has accustomed us to for decades now. The same goes for the themes - connection, love, the four walls of home as a safe haven. Sometimes, however, that whimsy loses its brilliance, as in the stories of exaggerated anti-ageing treatments or a Buddha fired from his role.

The danger is not taken in 'The Avant Garde', as lopsided as it is hypnotic, and the changeable 'Don't Be Like That', as well as in the exotic 'The Truth', a reggaeton that does not disfigure in a kaleidoscopic album, where strings, rhythms, easy-going stanzas and the typical extravagance of David Byrne intertwine for a more serene and carefree discographic episode than the previous one.