You might be a squatter, but it’s just to keep the rebellious new wave, CBGB, Lower East Side spirit alive. Squatting in houses of families that travel for the winter is your right, man. That’s right, you’re sort of an unofficial guardian of this Rhode Island suburban block. Hey, this is the state where the Talking Heads all first met! You’re sure the US Postal Service workers will be totally down with this squatting situation, as long as you keep them entertained by singing some groovy tunes. Let’s dive into the a capella playlist you’ve got lined up for them! The name of this band is: an illegally squatting dude singing Talking Heads. (Listen to the playlist, click here)
30. “Love → Building on Fire”
Wave and wiggle your fingers through the mail slot. Introduce yourself. You have to start gently, so begin with the first piece of music ever released by Talking Heads, seven months before their debut album even came out. This is a good one to make first impressions with, as you show the mail courier that you only want to approach them with “love.” Attempt the jaunty horn arrangements with a harmonica found upstairs.
29. “Heaven”
Their third album “Fear of Music” spawned this 1979 anthem to listlessness. You want to create your new abode in the image of this song. You use this as a personal anthem as to how laidback and apathetic your rent-free existence will be here. You convince the mail courier that you are in heaven, that this is a place where “nothing ever happens.” Translation: don’t call the cops, man. Be cool.
28. “Making Flippy Floppy (Live)”
“Do you like the 1984 live concert ‘Stop Making Sense’? It’s pretty much the perfect concert film. Remember Jonathan Demme, director of ‘Silence of the Lambs’? That was him, same dude!” you excitedly share with the mail courier through the slot, your chapped lips eking out. You explain that you prefer this concert version. “And A24 went ahead and re-released it last year, did you catch it?” you ask. Unfortunately the multiple references to ‘Silence of the Lambs’ has conditioned the postal worker to approach with caution.
27. “And She Was”
After finding a jug of sangria in the basement, you get nostalgic and melodramatic. Good thing this up-tempo song fondly reminds you of an ex-girlfriend. When the mail comes again, you belt a rendition of “And She Was” from the band’s sixth studio album, 1985’s “Little Creatures,” trying to prompt a conversation around lost loves and bygone past romances. The mail courier has begun walking with a faster gait away from the house. No mind: your song can still reach them via side windows.
26. “Burning Down the House”
One of the band’s most recognizable songs (a single from their 1983 fifth album “Speaking in Tongues”), this is a good one to bring the mail carrier down to your level. Use this as a possible fib and threat: “If you don’t listen to me sing Talking Heads, I will burn down this house.” Perhaps a bit extreme, but it’s also the dead of winter and you need to stay warm. Plenty of other houses with rickety locks.
25. “Houses in Motion”
Now that you’ve ingested all the pharmaceuticals you could find in the medicine cabinets, everything outside is absolutely buzzing. You watch the postal worker approach the house with wonder; lightning bolts shoot from their shoulders to your hazy eyes. The world is spinning. We are on a rock floating in space. From the fourth album by the band, “Remain in Light,” this 1980 single begins an endless cycle of neighbor complaints. Good thing the bizarre combination of drugs softly renders the chattering humans into friendly wan shapes visiting your window.
24. “Psycho Killer – Acoustic”
Show that you have teeth by singing this single from their 1977 debut album “Talking Heads: 77,” with French lyrics provided by bassist Tina Weymouth. The postal worker can appreciate the variety when you ask if they’ve heard the acoustic version of this song. Offer to play it for them sometime, perhaps upstairs? An unprompted song titled “Psycho Killer” is sure to open plenty of doors with government workers.
23. “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) [Live]”
You’ve found a pocket, ride the groove. The mail carrier seems to recognize this song. Perhaps it’s fear as a response mechanism. Or perhaps you’ve met another kindred soul that loves Talking Heads as much as you do. Start a dialogue about how the live “Stop Making Sense” version has superior harmonies, see if this piques their interest. Ignore frantic texts to the USPS base for help – convince them of how charming, quaint and domestic your situation has become. “Home is where I want to be, but I guess I’m already there,” you weepily sing, tears sliding down the front door.
22. “Once in a Lifetime (Live)”
Keep the hits coming by reminding the mail carrier of the temporal nature of life. Maybe rummage through the closets and slap on the clothes of those normally occupying this house. Run around in the trousers and bras of strangers, yelling “This is not my beautiful house! This is not my beautiful wife!” Show your rejection of modern capitalism by spitting any mail or catalogs back out to the postal worker. Declare yourself as part of the resistance by writing lyrics from “Once in a Lifetime” on IRS statements, hospital bills, and paychecks. Cause chaos, become ungovernable.
21. “Wild Wild Life”
From their seventh album, 1986’s “True Stories” (and as tied to the David Byrne film), this one might not be as recognizable to new postal workers on your route. You can’t understand the reason for new carriers, it seems to change almost daily. Seems that only philistines are assigned these blocks. Or maybe they are country/folk fans instead, who knows? Either way, use this song as a chance to reflect on how funny life is. One time you were in med school, studying the human colon. Next thing you’re giving it all up for a life as a rock groupie, living on couches and chasing a blurry carefree dream impossible in today’s America. You’d finish this thought, but you remember a beer you left on the counter.
20. “Girlfriend Is Better”
OK, so you haven’t had a “girlfriend” since Obama’s second term. The postal worker doesn’t need to know that! Make yourself sound mysterious by talking about your girlfriend who lives in Bratislava. Talk about the “bows in her hair,” talk about the “smoke in her eyes,” the postal worker is barely listening, trying to avoid you. You scream through the mail slot that she wants to move to America, but needs an immigration visa first. While talking through the slot, offer cheese and crackers found in the garage fridge. Make the USPS employee feel welcome as you squat in a stranger’s home.
19. “A Clean Break (Let’s Work) – Live from WCOZ, Massachusetts”
Work with an arrangement closer to the version on their 1982 live album “The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads,” the underrated compilation by this new wave band. With a raw sensibility and forward tempo, feel free to pound on the door along to this one, screaming at the top of your lungs. Why wait for the mail carrier? Shun the daylight. Make this a midnight jam.
18. “Don’t Worry About the Government”
It seems like an empathetic postal worker has finally been assigned the route that covers this very house. When he kindly asks if you’re worried about being arrested, you begin singing this song. Message is in the title, buddy. Move along! If you wanted a therapist, you would’ve stayed at that psychiatric hospital back in Georgia. Instead you made it to Rhode Island all on your own! Well, maybe with a forged bus ticket. You don’t even know what taxes are. A government building may as well be a 7-11. You follow David Byrne’s guidance, taking this song truly to heart.
17. “Nothing but Flowers”
You blast a true bop from their eighth and final album, 1988’s “Naked” and drag out all the pots in the kitchen for the eclectic rhythm section on this one. You’d open the windows to get the neighbors involved, but there’s a risk of police crawling in for a raid. Use this as a chance to remind this government worker that this entire plot of tract suburban houses used to be flowers, nature, greenery. “There was a factory / now there are mountains and rivers,” you ominously say, which is somehow called in as some sort of threat. Good, let them know you deeply love this song ever since first hearing it on the “Clerks II” soundtrack in middle school.
16. “I Zimbra”
Get the goddamn blood pumping with this absolute banger. This was an indicator of where the band was going, sound-wise. You are absolutely enamored with drummer Chris Frantz’s work on this one. You use this as a chance to talk about Frantz with the postal worker, but they insist they are on a tight schedule. Never mind, this song still works to garner stares, especially when sung to children passing by or families walking their dog. This might actually be attracting too much attention. (Hint: that means you’re doing it right.)
15. “Take Me to the River”
“Remember that singing plastic fish, Big Mouth Billy Bass? This was one of his songs!” you insist upon the mail carrier, squeezing your lips to loudly sing this nostalgic throwback song originally written by Al Green. Delivering the mail has actually become a problem for this house. You can’t understand why anyone would want to deny themselves the chance to hear you sing this stellar tune from the band’s second album, 1978’s “More Songs About Buildings and Food” which you have on a constant rotation. This also serves as a reminder to seek water as the owners have become alerted to your presence and have shut off the water line to the property.
14. “City of Dreams”
A teary-eyed nostalgic play, you sing this to the mail carrier union representative who has come to ask you to please accept the mounting mail. There is a pile outside the door, as you won’t receive the mail until the USPS workers agree to hear more Talking Heads songs. For a minute you think you get through to them with this lovely ballad, but instead they all drive away in their boxy white Grumman LLVs. Yeah, you know all about the make and model of official USPS mail trucks. You pick things up on the road.
13. “Slippery People”
The lyrics in this song begin to echo the questions you hear from all passersby outside. “What’s the matter with him?” is never a good question to hear asked about yourself. These postal workers are slippery people indeed. You thought they were chill, man. You thought they wouldn’t report a mysterious new tenant in a house normally empty during the winter season. Instead, they turned out to be another narc, just like your old roommate whose wallet you used to “borrow” from, or your brother whose identity you stole to forge documents. What happened to the world, man? People used to be cool. David Byrne would totally understand.
12. “Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)”
This whole song could be your personal philosophy, you explain through the mail slot. When the mail carrier finally arrives for the day, you moan your truth: despite the difficulties of life, you carry on. Just like the juxtaposing titular tension of this song. These days, members of the HOA accompanied by cops are making more regular visits here. Hiding from law enforcement is something you have no problems with. Sing this song to yourself as you sit on the dry tiled floor of the upstairs shower. Wow, your voice sure bounces in here.
11. “Pulled Up”
Last night you heard someone fiddling with the front door. Is it someone else trying to squat here? Is it the original owner? Either way, you use the yelpy screeching parts of this song as an attempt to scare visitors away, running down the stairs with a fiery charge, shouting lyrics from this intense pop burst. Begin slipping odd jewelry and tchotchkes through the front door, let them know that you’re willing to ruin the decor of this house. The more unpredictable you seem, the more time you have to squat in this ample Rhode Island abode.
10. “I’m Not in Love”
You begin to realize: perhaps it is time to let go of this house. Attachment is the source of all misery. Follow the Buddhist routes that one drifter aboard a Reno freight train divulged many summers ago. Non-attachment will only bring new adventures, new truth, new company and new insights of happiness. “I’m not in love!” you exclaim repeatedly through the mail slot, confusing everyone in the neighborhood. Like how keyboardist Jerry Harrison had to pick up after the dissolution of The Modern Lovers – he was quickly folded into the Talking Heads and the rest is history. You don’t know what the future holds, man. The future is unwritten. Maybe you’ll find a donut in a puddle today.
9. “The Great Curve”
Thinking about the curve of life, you realize you can’t stay here forever. You gently open the door for a fuller glimpse of the early morning outside world. There are multiple notices on the door requesting in-person physical mail pickup at the post office. Um… nope! That’s not gonna happen. You quickly snatch up any remaining packages, parcels or loose mail into the house to perhaps search for American Express samples or gift cards from distant relatives. Whoa, a coupon to Buffalo Wild Wings? You suddenly have plans for the weekend, brother!
8. “Life During Wartime”
Opening the door, big mistake. Cops have descended upon the house. The postal workers are all there, gladly reporting the weird shit you said to them while singing Talking Heads songs, each interaction bordering on problematic. “Life During Wartime” indeed. This must’ve been what it was like during the Blitz, or the Fall of Saigon. This is a historic moment for this neighborhood. When hiding in an upstairs annex, you wave at someone barbecuing next door for help, but they only alert law enforcement. You’ve truly parachuted into hostile enemy territory.
7. “Thank You for Sending Me an Angel”
Upon discovering a whole other drawer of slightly-expired antibiotics, you decide to take everything you find at once before falling into a seven-hour hallucinatory stupor. There is a literal angel on the front lawn. It is beautiful and deadly. Nobody knows the splendor you are experiencing. You make subtle shadow puppetry outside the mail slot for the angel, not realizing multiple law enforcement vehicles are observing your every move. Unpredictability works in your favor: nobody wants to barrage into the house, but if you keep singing Talking Heads songs out of the loose orifices of the house (a backdoor keyhole, an ajar window, a sooty chimney), the police at least think they can buy time before the media is alerted.
6. “The Book I Read”
That’s right, you’ve got a manifesto. You’re a Talking Heads troubadour-squatter, did anyone expect less? Unfortunately your manifesto is completely written on this stranger’s mail. You’ve somewhat stapled it all together. There’s really a thrust to your argument. Offer this tome to the officers slowly making their way to the backyard. Let them know that “absolute truth about the universe and government” is scribbled on those envelopes.
5. “Sax and Violins”
At this point you are just buying time. No one talks about how great this song is, but the police are not having it. “OK, I’ll leave the postal workers alone!” you scream, a light attempt at a surrender. Unfortunately for everyone you’re now naked, slipping in the fluids (it’s been a month, you’re a messy boy) now covering the foyer. Best part about squatting in winter homes? Never having to clean up your own mess. Let these entitled assholes deal with it in the spring.
4. “The Big Country”
Maintain your optimism! Remind everyone outside behind their bullhorns and search-lights that this is a huge nation. There is plenty of room for everyone! There is a housing crisis, after all. You look around at rows and rows of these empty houses, abandoned in the winter for sunnier climates by jet-setting families. Lyrics from “The Big Country” begin spilling out of you before a rubber bullet whizzes by. Oh no, it seems like private bounty hunters were employed. Maybe these assholes like David Byrne’s solo work instead? Maybe switch it up to some Tom Tom Club? Ask them through the mail slot.
3. “Road to Nowhere”
You know your rights, man. There isn’t shit they can do about a squatter! These cops are jerks on a real road to nowhere, per the 1985 Talking Heads song. You mock them via an upstairs bathroom window, also noticing that a news van and helicopter are now covering this strange standdown. Hey, any publicity is good publicity. You just hope they don’t use that old mugshot without your Talking Heads lyrics face tattoo.
2. “Sugar on My Tongue”
Stuff as much food as you can into your pockets. You’re hitting the road. You’re rollin’ out! You grab some instant coffee in your fists, creamer in your shirt pocket, sugar on your damn tongue. You almost laugh, thinking about the Talking Heads song, but you’re jumping over fences with snacks spilling out of your parka. You leave kitchen item breadcrumbs leading to your next house, a scattered mess of apples, pancake batter, whatever you could quickly grab from the cupboards. Nevermind the haul: you abandon the food, jumping into another patio, another home empty for the winter.
1. “Crosseyed and Painless (Live)”
Keep the lights off in this new house, you need to settle in and get the heat off. This is the smashing finale song to their famous live show, a thrilling send-off leaving the audience in the squirmy frustration of a familiar mantra: “I’m still waiting.” And damn right you’re still waiting. For people to finally be chill with squatting, like they were in the 1980s Lower East Side. For government workers to appreciate Talking Heads songs as much as you do. For someone to finally understand your specific, ersatz genius. Oh well. Tomorrow’s a new day to continue writing your manifesto on other people’s mail.
Listen to the full playlist:
