It’s David Byrne’s birthday, so a fitting time to celebrate the deliciously paradoxical “Listening Wind,” one of Talking Heads’ lesser known gems on Remain in Light. Of all the polyrhythms and African incantations on that record, “Wind” is the most hypnotic.
“The wind in my heart, the wind in my heart
The dust in my hair, the dust in my hair.”
Byrne sings plaintively over haunting, squalling guitars over stuttering beats. Ever since that album came out in 1980, that song has been a solace for me. Yes, “Once in a Lifetime” is profound and anthemic at the same time, while “Born Under Punches” is fine white man boogie, but I can waft along the zephyrs of “Listening Wind” in a transcendental state. Imagine my surprise when I learned recently that “Listening Wind” is about a terrorist.
Yes, that balm to my soul is about a bomb. Mojique sees the growing numbers of wealthy foreigners taking over his land and feels called to drive them away with a dangerous package. The song was illuminated for me in part by Angelique Kidjo‘s rendition. Kidjo, the diva of Benin, recorded a truly African version of the entire Remain in Light in 2018.
Byrne, in rare form channeling, makes terrorism comprehensible. After all, Mojique’s country is being invaded, after much of his continent has been colonized. He is no religious zealot. Nor one of today’s scourge, a reality denier. “Listening Wind” unmasks me as one of many music fans who don’t listen to the words, but knowing the words now, I am not unsettled by them. Instead I feel a yearning for the quaint bogeymen of yesterday, when the lines we drew between us made sense.
“Wind” still gives me solace. There is no “other” to hate, only a want to which we can all relate. I close my eyes. The sirocco takes me.
