77 in '77
A Belated Apprectiation
by Bucks Burnett

In 1977 I was working at my third gig in a long line of gigs which continues to this day, as clerk of a record store, this time at Record Town in the prestigious Broadway Square Mall in Tyler, Texas; that's right, the dead center of Show Business Central. At the time, I had just discovered what was then called the New Wave of rock music. For the most part, I didn't care for it or understand it very much, but I was digging Low and Heroes, both released that year by David Bowie. At first I hated Low, but it eventually won me over, and Heroes knocked me out cold on the first listen, as it still does today.

I have a vivid memory of seeing two albums for the first time as I held them both side by side at the store, and wondered if they were to be sold as a set; Never Mind The Bollocks by the Sex Pistols, and 77 by Talking Heads, or as we call them in Texas, Thuh Talkin' Hay-uds. Intrigued by the striking, antagonistic cover art, I played both albums in a row, and disliked both severely. I wanted very much to love these bands, because of the cover art, but I just couldn't sign on. The Sex Pistols made me feel hated, and the Talking Heads made me feel nervous. I did not like 77 because it was too 'herky jerky' for me; I wanted to give the album a valium and see if it would make more sense to me. It almost sounded as if it were playing at 45rpm instead of 33. I played the album only once. Please keep in mind that at the time I was in love with Led Zeppelin and The Allman Brothers, and my roommate was questioning my sanity for buying David Bowie records. It was a very conservative era for Texas, even by today's standards.

So if you're looking for an essay on how 77 changed my life, you won't get it. I severely disliked the album, and would not come to view as a classic recording for several more years, quite late in my career as a Talking Heads fan.

Later, in 1979, I finally would fall in love with a very different sounding record by the band, Fear Of Music. But it would be several more years before I went back and gave the first two albums another chance. I had always assumed they would make me feel nervous again, and they did. But by the late 80's I came to regard the first two LP's as twin masterpieces. Both albums are perhaps the quirkiest in Heads history, but they are true greatness. The guitar work is deceptively simple, but as an experienced guitarist, I can tell you I would not welcome the challenge of learning the parts.

With the passing of time, and the opening of my own mind, I have come to view 77 as the understated masterpiece that it truly is. It is one of those albums that grew on me slowly like a vine, stretching from my feet up through the center of my brain, until it became a part of me, like my eyelashes. In retrospect, I view it as the finest debut by anyone associated with the new wave movement, equalled only by Television's Marquee Moon debut.

77, I owe you an apology; you were right, and I was wrong. Today, 77 seems to me the first wails and screams of an unwanted baby that would someday grow up to be President. And that album cover; so fucking simple it's annoying, but screamingly classic beyond compare. What in the hell was I thinking.

- - September 15, 2007