The Singles Jukebox

I’ll bring some chips…

[Video]
[4.50]

Leonel Manzanares de la Rosa: Oh good, more songs about buildings and food. 
[5]

Hannah Jocelyn: I just love hearing Byrne’s benevolent-mad-scientist voice again, even if it’s affected by Auto-Tune artifacts this time around. This song isn’t anywhere near as off-the-wall as Talking Heads could get, and more in the vein of his recent work with St Vincent or song like “Home.” That’s a good thing, but his weirdness remains, because he’s David Goddamn Byrne. Between the three producers (Byrne, Rodaidh MacDonald, and Patrick Dillet) and all-star cast of backup musicians (when he says “Everybody” he means it), as well as the Dust Brothers-esque drum fills and noirish horn samples, it’s a strange combination! Yet it holds together well despite lacking a more emotional component.
[7]

Micha Cavaseno: Not for nothing, if Jonathan Richman came to you with a bad electro-disco song that felt like a LCD Soundsystem injoke that opened with something that felt like a Garage Band James Bond knock-off for the intro, you’d probably laugh him out of the building right? Sure. So here’s my question: why should you be any more forgiving for a guy who’s been coasting on the fact that he was once part of a band who made a lot of overrated albums back when some of you weren’t even born? The yelping affect is now strained and absurd, and every sense of groove is just utterly lost. David Byrne is someone whose credibility has been cashed in on far too many times to make hearing a record like this a plausible argument for a worthwhile effort.
[0]

Alfred Soto: There might be a decent tune waiting for a less skeletal arrangement or less contorted vocal performance. If you want me, I’ll be at the bar.
[2]

Ryo Miyauchi: David Byrne songs aren’t going to scan entirely as fun things for me, not without sensing there’s some deeper, cerebral interrogation afoot. This one is no exception, despite the efforts from the drum beats trying to further draw out an inviting tone from the titular chorus. It doesn’t help the chorus reminds me of a similar aged cynic who once said Daft Punk was coming to his home. I want to go out and dance without feeling like I’m being somehow scolded for going out and dancing.
[5]

Julian Axelrod: I’ve had anxiety since I was old enough to spell it. I fell in love with Talking Heads around the same time. That can’t be a coincidence — David Byrne’s twitchy, live-wire yelp sounds like an upscale panic attack unfolding in real time. So it’s fitting that he’s returned to a world created in his image, where every morning brings a new crisis as we resign ourselves to a fiery nuclear death. “Everybody’s Coming to My House” has an unshakable apocalyptic vibe, but for Byrne the end of the world is just the latest in a long line of headaches. It sounds like Curb Your Enthusiasm by way of Darren Aronofsky: “I know the sky’s turned black and it’s raining frogs, but please use a coaster.” It’s comforting to hear such a relatable anxiety writ large, especially coming from a master of the form. David Byrne’s already given us so much. Now please, get the fuck out of his house.
[8]