Talking Heads, con su estilo único y experimental, dejó una marca indeleble en la historia de la música. Fundada en 1975 en Nueva York, el grupo se destacó rápidamente en la escena musical por su mezcla ecléctica de punk, rock, funk y ritmos africanos. La banda se compuso originalmente de David Byrne (voz y guitarra), Chris Frantz (batería), Tina Weymouth (bajo) y Jerry Harrison (teclados y guitarra).
David Byrne, Chris Frantz y Tina Weymouth se conocieron en la Rhode Island School of Design. Compartían intereses similares en arte y música, lo que los llevó a formar una banda llamada The Artistics. Sin embargo, al mudarse a Nueva York y para alinearse con la vibrante escena punk del CBGB, decidieron cambiar su nombre a Talking Heads.
El 8 de junio de 1975, Talking Heads debutó en CBGB como teloneros de los Ramones. Su actuación llamó la atención del crítico de música del The Village Voice, John Rockwell, quien elogió su frescura. Esta exposición les permitió firmar con Sire Records en 1976.
Su primer álbum, Talking Heads: 77, presentó al mundo su estilo inconfundible. El sencillo "Psycho Killer" se convirtió en un himno y ayudó a establecer su reputación como pioneros del nuevo sonido post-punk.
Day by day ... Whistle while you work ... Our
backs are breaking ... Up from hollow earth ...
From end to end ... The noise begins ... In the
human battle stations ... And the big one's
coming in
Work, work, work, work ... Work till holes are
filled ... Work, work, work, work ... Bags of
bone and skin ... Lovers hold hands ... Tossing
their heads ... Tangled in hair ... Tied to earth
... With skin and glue
But their skin is the same as yours
Coming in for the world to see
They can sit at the table, too
The same blood as you and me
Speak very softly .. Hold my hand ... Someone is
sleeping ... In my bed ... Priests pass by ...
Worms crawl in ... One dreams to be ... One dream
for all
His skin is the same as yours
Is he not made the same as you?
And some have fallen down
And blood spilled on the ground
Work, work,work
Till his life is doneu
The old man .. Is at our door ... And he's
knocking ... knocking ... As his neighbors weep
... Each day repeats ... Are we nothing in your
eyes? ... Someone answer, someone answer ... This
rusted garden gate ... Can barely even stand ...
Their work is over now ... And rest will be at
hand
Is their skin not the same as yours?
Can they sit at the table to drink
Cool water
Cool wateru
And his lungs are filled with rain...