David Byrne would like you to know that even Grammy-winning, Rock Hall-inducted, Stop-Making-Sense-redefining legends still get their ideas rejected. “People might think that an artist who’s been around as long as I have has no trouble getting things made or produced or whatever,” he shrugs. “The struggle doesn’t end.”
That shrug is practically the spiritual backbone of American Utopia, an album as infectious and groove-heavy as it is existentially over it. Not that Byrne would say it that way—he’s too cheerful for despair. “There’s dystopian things on the record,” he admits, “but it’s delivered in a sort of upbeat way… darkness that you can dance to.”
Byrne joined Kyle Meredith With… to talk about the record, but also managed to casually drop that he once collaborated with Will Oldham—yes, Louisville’s own Bonnie “Prince” Billy—on a few songs for a Paolo Sorrentino film. “Paolo’s a big fan of Will’s,” Byrne says. “And I just said, ‘Well, I’ll do it… if Will does it.’” That’s how you flex without flexing.
For all his polymath adventures—visual art, books, Broadway, bike advocacy—Byrne still thinks in album terms, even if the format’s taken a beating in the playlist age. “It takes as much promotion to promote one song as it does to promote a whole album,” he sighs. “So you think, well, let’s make it 10 songs and that’s a reason to have a record.”
And what a record. American Utopia might sound like a dance party, but its layers run deep—especially on “Bullet,” told from the perspective of a literal projectile tearing through a human body. “You start to talk about… this is where they loved someone, this is where they enjoyed meals,” Byrne says. “You get this heartbreaking sense of a person being slowly ripped apart.” And yet, somehow, it’s catchy. Welcome to Byrneworld.
The visual aspect, like the music, is in constant motion—something Byrne didn’t always allow himself. “I used to stand as still as possible on stage,” he says. “Gradually, the music liberated me… inspired me to move, and try different things, and change as a person. That’s something music does.”
There’s also the matter of Brian Eno, Byrne’s occasional partner in sonic deconstruction. The two don’t bond over soundwaves. “Often when we get together, we don’t talk about music,” Byrne says. “Then the subject might turn to, ‘Hey, I have some drum tracks…’ and that might lead to a record.” Casual, as one does.
American Utopia features a sprawling cast of collaborators, but Byrne didn’t find himself fighting for control. “Sometimes I’d have to go, ‘That’s not really the way the chords go… do you mind trying again?’” he laughs. “But otherwise, it’s really fresh what people come up with.”
Thematically, the album flirts with the phrase American Dream but sidesteps it in favor of its more loaded cousin. “A lot of it is about who we are, what we want, what’s going wrong, and what might be right,” Byrne says. “Longing for something better. That’s something we all have, regardless of our politics.”
So is there another True Stories in him? Another film waiting to happen?
“I’ve pitched some things as recently as last year,” Byrne says. “So far, no takers. But I’ll keep trying.”
Of course he will. Because in Byrne’s world, utopia might be elusive, but the dance never stops.
Listen to the interview above and then check out "Everybody's Coming To My House" below!
