There’s not much that I could say about Talking Heads that hasn’t been said already. Like most who came of age in the 1980s, the band has been a huge part of the soundtrack to my life for most of my life. I don’t think I had heard this full album until well into my adulthood, but I knew some of its songs very well.
Little Creatures yielded some of the band’s biggest hits, songs that are instantly recognizable to anyone who’s been alive for a couple decades or more, songs that political candidates will risk lawsuits to include in their ads: “And She Was,” “Stay Up Late,” “Road to Nowhere” — these aren’t quite the arty, experimental pop of earlier Talking Heads albums, but they are damn good songs, whatever some grumpy college DJs might have thought at the time, and you still won’t hear any of them in a commercial.
“Their 8th album, and the one on which they discover, finally, what to wear for a group photo (see back cover). Anybody still like these guys?”
“Sounds like they are trying to back up a bit here to 1979. But, well, this image/disco thing. Ya know?”
“Clouds with faces! DB in his underwear embarrasses me.”
“I still like this band (their name is Talking Heads, if you didn’t know already… )”
“If you play the white dots [most likely the songs I mentioned above], you are being lazy!! All other songs are wonderful.”