There's nothing new under the sun
“Yes, of course Talking Heads was a great band from the Seventies, but do you know why?”
Timurlane did not lift his head from concentration on the radio he was fixing. “Why what?” he asked, “Why they were a great band or why they were Talking Heads?”
“Why they were Talking Heads. Why d’ya think they chose that name?” Jimbo watched Timurlane as though expecting him to be interested.
“Because of the yakking people on the television, I guess.” Timurlane picked up the soldering iron and began to produce smoke and smells from the innards of the radio.
Jimbo pounced. This was what he had been waiting for. “Nah,” he said, “this was long before they started calling them talking heads on the box. This was something else, man. Talking heads was a new technique the video people were playing with around the time the band got started.
“What they did was get a model’s head, you know, like just the head of one of those dummies they put in store fronts, and they’d project a film of someone talking on to it. They’d get it exactly the same size as the head so it would look like the head was talking and moving.”
“Uh, yeah,” mumbled Timurlane, “I think I saw something like that back then.”
“Well, that’s what they called talking heads,” continued Jimbo. “They were really weird and creepy looking and that’s prob'ly why it went out of fashion so quickly. But I reckon David Byrne must have seen those videos and took the name for his band.”
Timurlane put down the soldering iron and looked up at Jimbo. “Amazing,” he said.
“Well, I thought it was interesting,” replied Jimbo. “It’s prob’ly what happened.”
“Absolutely fascinating.” Timurlane shook his head and returned to the radio.
For a while Jumbo just stood there, hands in pockets and looking sheepish. Then he shrugged and turned away. His glance fell on a flat screen television mounted on the wall at the far end of the shop.
“Hey, Tim, does that thing work?”
Timurlane looked up briefly. “The television? Yeah, sure it works. Switch it on. There might be some music at this time of day.”
Jimbo walked across and hit the button to turn it on. For a few moments nothing happened; then the screen brightened and the shop filled with sound.
Timurlane put the radio down and looked up. “Hey, I know this bunch. That’s AJR and the song’s A Hundred Bad Days. Watch the video, man - it’s weird.”
Disembodied heads floated into view and Jimbo stepped back. “That’s it!” he said. “Talking heads, just like I toldja…”
Word Count: 440