When last seen, the ever intrepid David Byrne was cavorting about onstage as part of the heavily costumed touring spectacle supporting his 1997 album,
Feelings
(Warner Brothers). Rich with techno flourishes and heavy on programming, sequencing, sampling, and electronic loops, the act also showcased the pan-cultural melodies, exotic rhythms, and international musical flavors that fans have come to expect from the former Talking Head.
Following the May release of Look into the Eyeball (Virgin Records), however, Byrne is singing a different, more natural-sounding tune. With a series of North American club dates marking the debut of his new approach, the multifaceted performer has been sweeping up audiences in a lush aural landscape notable for its consistent, well-executed production and clever incorporation of orchestral strings — the latter serving as a bridge linking the disparate elements of Byrne's continual genre-hopping.
Clearly more organic in content and closer to Byrne's pop and rock roots than his 1997 foray, the club tour was lean and stripped of any hint of excess, thanks to its use of in-ear monitoring, house-provided sound, and travel arrangements placing crew and band on the same bus. (Initially, string sections were hired locally at each stop. Later in the tour, a permanent string section was added.) I caught up with Byrne at Chicago's Park West and was ushered past the velvet rope just in time for a lengthy sound check and rehearsal. Having ridden his bicycle through a challenging urban course to the gig earlier that day, the 49-year-old Byrne looked fit and hale — more ageless, perhaps, than Dick Clark. Backed by Paul Frazier on bass, Mauro Refosco on percussion, and David Hilliard on drums, he moved through the sound check with calm, calculated precision. Backstage prior to the show, he talked about the sounds he's assimilated since his last road trip and what it takes to realize them on artistic and technical levels.
When I saw you perform four years ago, you were dressed in a shaggy, oversized fur suit. It was lurid pink, and you were all over the stage.
Oh yeah, that was fun! During that tour, I changed costumes a lot and was constantly dashing around.
You had a hardcore techno edge to your sound. Compared with that tour, this show represents quite a departure, especially considering your use of a string section [three violins, one viola, and two cellos]. What caused you to settle on this particular configuration?
I was hearing orchestral arrangements on other things people around me were doing, and I began to wonder what it would be like if I could combine my love of grooves and beats with the lush dynamics of strings. At the same time, I wanted to use them as part of the harmonic meat of the band, not just as a sweetener.
Nearly every track on the new record contains string or horn parts. Did you do all the arranging?
No. I did some of them — two, maybe three. But the majority were sent out for others to do. Philly soul producer Thom Bell helped me out on a couple.
Your current set list doesn't seem to be weighted in any one direction toward older or new material.
Certainly not. There's a fair amount of old favorites, some new stuff, and a sprinkling of songs from everywhere, including my oddball songs — things that people know, but not that well.
In terms of signature tunes, you're doing “And She Was” and “Once in a Lifetime.” No “Psycho Killer”?
No “Psycho Killer” this time, sorry. When I do the old songs, I do them differently. They are still recognizable, however. I'm not doing a Bob Dylan on them.
Give me examples of what you consider your “oddball” tunes.
“God's Child,” which was done for a film soundtrack, as was “Sax and Violins.” Then there's “What a Day That Was,” which was on a dance score I did a long time ago.
What inspired you to write the new material for
Look into the Eyeball?
Ooooh … [Pauses to think.] I knew right away I was writing for this combination of instruments, so a lot of the musical ideas came first. Then at one point, I was hit with the revelation that I was going to be much less ironic on this record than I've been on others I've done. I mean, there would be elements of humor, but overall it would be pretty straight ahead.
Much of your writing explores various facets of the human condition, for better or worse. Would you describe it as a process of discovery?
Part of my responsibility as an artist is to gaze into our collective consciousness and report back on what's there, so I guess it's fair to say there is an element of discovery in my writing process.
Viewed in that context, is there a unifying theme that brings all of your songs to one central point?
There may be, but that's something for the critics to figure out.
Really? That's not something you'd like to determine?
No, what I have to say almost comes last. I let the music start talking first.
How do you react to what critics write about your music?
Sometimes I'm pretty sure they are way off base. Other times I say to myself, “Hey, they're right — I didn't think of that.” Basically, however, I don't bother trying to figure my music out.
It sounds like your creative process is more of a spontaneous, natural outburst, yet your stage presence is so orchestrated, artistically and technically. I couldn't help but notice the precision you bring to your sound check.
Our sound-check process can run as long as two hours. We start with just the nuts and bolts. I basically get out my checklist, and we run through the songs to ensure that each instrument has its place in the mix and everything is working. Once our front-of-house engineer [Terry Pearson] is happy, I usually go into rehearsal mode. We can use this time to work on an arrangement or whatever. During the course of the tour, we'll add new songs or drop something else out, so this is also a time to go over those kinds of changes.
Despite the calmer tenor of this tour, you and all the musicians are still wearing in-ear monitors.
Some musicians have had problems adjusting to in-ear systems, but for me, it was a natural right away. In-ears have saved my voice, as now I never have to strain to overcome a wedge monitor blaring at my feet. Even our drummer, David Hilliard, is on ears, and usually [drummers] are the last to change over, because they like to feel the sonic wallop of their kick drum hitting them square in the chest. Our monitor engineer, Kris Umezawa, solved this problem by outfitting David's seat with a shaker. I guess it's doing a pretty good job of stimulating — oops, I mean simulating — what David's looking for.
I noticed some regulars from your guitar collection onstage.
My red Guild acoustic is back, as is my vintage Gretsch Chet Atkins Nashville guitar. The only new guitar I'm using is a Godin classical with nylon strings, which has a regular output as well as a synth output that links me to a Roland GR-1 guitar synthesizer. I use the Godin quite a bit on songs performed with and without the string section. We have a Peruvian singer on Luaka Bop, my record label, and I first heard the Godin being played by the guitarist in her band. I liked what I was hearing, so I picked one up. Its acoustic characteristics are good, and when you add the synth thing, it becomes really versatile. I've had the Chet Atkins Gretsch for about seven years; it's been used extensively on my records and for performing.
Didn't you borrow a trick from the theatrical community to ensure that the perspiration produced by your stage antics wouldn't cause problems for your harnessed electronics?
Oh yeah, the condom trick! With all of the sweat that was pouring off of me during that [past] tour, I wanted to find a way to ensure that the wireless packs I was wearing wouldn't get soaked. I asked a few members of the Broadway musical Cats how they handled such problems, and the answer from all of them was instant and unanimous: condoms. Based upon this expert advice, we wound up stretching condoms over all my packs and then placing them in the harness, with their bottom sides facing up. The open end was left pointing down so I could access the controls if I had to. Nonlubricated condoms worked best. We had no trouble whatsoever. The funniest thing about all of this was that guests would come visit backstage after the show and see all of these condoms lying about that were horribly stretched out of shape. They had to be wondering what was going on. But, honest, it was all for the show.
Stringing Along
Although a road crew generally has to deal with several variables during a tour — the size and acoustics of the different venues and often variations in sound systems — the one thing they can usually depend on being the same night in and night out is the act itself. But what if a significant part of the band is different every show? That was the dilemma faced by David Byrne's crew in the early stages of the tour to support the new CD, Look into the Eyeball.
To re-create the orchestrations from the recording, the plan was to hire local string players at each stop on the tour. “Getting the string sections up and running was an interesting part of my day,” says monitor engineer and production manager Kris Umezawa. “When it came to miking and getting them on our in-ear systems, it was a totally foreign experience for most of them.”
Even though many of the string players initially viewed the idea of clamping a microphone to their old, irreplaceable instruments with a horror usually reserved for vampires caught facing a new dawn, the violin, viola, and cello players were gently coaxed into letting Umezawa carefully rig them with small lavalier or clip-on mics. (During the course of the tour, he has used both Shure MX185s and AKG C 419s for this purpose.)
“I made sure I stayed away from the finished parts of their instruments,” Umezawa says of his kid-glove miking techniques. “The difficulty was trying to get the mics close enough to get some sort of isolation from the drums while maintaining fidelity.”
Once they had warmed to the idea of in-ear monitors, the string players handled the technology admirably. “There's always an adjustment period when you bring in classical players to a rock setting; some are more ready for it than others. Once they understood that I was there to help them, it went quite well.”
When the tour moved to Europe in early June, however, it became economically possible to travel with a set string section. Byrne, the band, and the crew all found this to be a preferable situation. “It's much better,” says Umezawa. “You develop a rapport with them. They understand the strengths and weaknesses of the technology and their mixes get better and better every day. Over time they've gotten more and more comfortable with their parts and this unusual situation.” Once Byrne and company returned to the United States in mid-July, a permanent string section was hired, and it's been with the tour ever since.
Whether with the pickup string players or the permanent ones, getting a quality monitor mix that successfully integrates the disparate elements of Byrne's current sound has been a key to the success of the tour. Although the band carries as little of their own gear as they can get away with, one indispensable piece of equipment they have carted around has been a Mackie Digital 8-Bus console that Umezawa uses to mix the group's multitude of Shure in-ear monitor rigs.
Although Umezawa uses the mixer's snapshot automation to save his mix at the end of each show, he still employs a very hands-on approach to mixing monitor: “I mix on it like a live analog desk. I recall it from the last show, but I tweak it per song on the fly.”
