Life During Wartime
Talking Heads clarify the risks and challenges of our time. No wonder David Byrne has that spooky stare. He sees things. WRITTEN & ILLUSTRATED by PETER MOORE
ONCE YOU LET A MUSICIAN INTO YOUR MIND, s/he can follow you around for decades. So it has been for me with David Byrne and Talking Heads, who commandeered my brainspace when I was as a young man living in NYC and looking for my rhythm in life. More Songs About Buldings and Food put a swing in my step that I still haven’t lost. The Heads even walked my bride and me down the aisle, accompanied by This Must be the Place (Naive Melody).
Not all of the associations are that, um, lovey-dovey. After watching fireballs bloom over Tehran last week, and children die, and retaliations mount, I was back under the tractor beam of David Byrne’s stare, asking: What the hell are we on about, now?
So I queued up the Heads’ dark anthem “Life During Wartime,” which suddenly sounded like a dispatch from my Google News feed. What had been merely catchy turned dark and prophetic.
Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons
Packed up and ready to go
Heard of some grave sites out by the highway
A place where nobody knows
The sound of gunfire off in the distance
I’m getting used to it now
Lived in a brownstone, lived in a ghetto
I’ve lived all over this town
This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco
This ain’t no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey
I ain’t got time for that now
Transmit the message to the receiver
Hope for an answer someday
I got three passports, a couple of visas
You don’t even know my real name
High on a hillside, the trucks are loading
Everything’s ready to roll
I sleep in the daytime, and I work in the nightime
I might not ever get home.
This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco
This ain’t no fooling around
This ain’t no Mudd Club, or C.B.G.B.
I ain’t got time for that now
Heard about Houston? Heard about Detroit?
Heard about Pittsburgh, PA?
You oughta know not to stand by the window
Somebody see you up there
I got some groceries, some peanut butter
To last a couple of days
But I ain’t got no speakers, ain’t got no headphones
Ain’t got no records to play
Why stay in college? Why go to night school?
Gonna be different this time!
Can’t write a letter, can’t send no postcard
I ain’t got time for that now
Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock
We blended in with the crowd
We got computers, we’re tapping phone lines
I know that that ain’t allowed
You make me shiver, I feel so tender
We make a pretty good team
Don’t get exhausted, I’ll do some driving
You ought to get you some sleep
Burned all my notebooks, what good are notebooks?
They won’t help me survive
My chest is aching, burns like a furnace
The burning keeps me alive
Who is writing the soundtrack of your life, and in what way? Let me know in the comments.
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The writing of this one is purely awesome. The drawings are unique and creative and applicable. I really enjoy your work thank you.
I'm not really familiar with Talking Heads. I think "This Must Be the Place" has a great gentle beat, but I had to look up the lyrics - simply could not understand the words w/music. And that probably says more about me than it does about the music. Talking Heads reached their commercial peak in 1983 (per Mr. Google) and about then my husband had just finished having 6 heart attacks in 4 years, w/ a heart transplant in 1984. So I was kinda busy, full-time job, two kids in middle/high school. The other song, Life during Wartime - I also had to look up those lyrics - I'm not sure I followed the message - I got the idea they were draft dodgers, but hell, I'm older than dirt, what do I know!? Do youlike reggae music, same kind of sweet, gentle beat as in This Must Be the Place. I enjoy your writing, diff'rent strokes for diff'rent folks re: the music though!