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Remain in Love: Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Tina
Chris Frantz’s memoir tells the story of his life with Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club and his life-long love affair with Tina Weymouth. He remembers the early performances at CBGB alongside the Ramones, Patti Smith, Television and Blondie and recording the game changing albums, Talking Heads ’77, More Songs About Buildings And Food, Fear Of Music, and Remain In Light. During a break from Talking Heads, Chris and Tina formed Tom Tom Club; in the process creating a hybrid of funk, disco, pop and electro that would have a huge impact on the club scene around the world.
Warm and candid, funny and heartfelt, Remain in Love charts the rise of a band that began as a dream and culminated with their induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and reveals the once-in-a-lifetime love story and creative partnership between Chris and Tina, one of the greatest rhythm sections of all time.
Warm and candid, funny and heartfelt, Remain in Love charts the rise of a band that began as a dream and culminated with their induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and reveals the once-in-a-lifetime love story and creative partnership between Chris and Tina, one of the greatest rhythm sections of all time.
16 pages, Audiobook
First published July 21, 2020
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February 26, 2023
This is the 4th rock autobiography I've read or listened to (Peart, Helm, R. Robinson). By far, it is the worst. If we add up everything Frantz writes about meals eaten 40 years ago in restaurants that no longer exist and compare that to what he writes about Jerry Harrison, the restaurants win the word count competition by a large margin. How could Frantz not get a damned editor? It is clear from reviews of this book, for instance in the WSJ, that the reviewers did not actually read this book.
Chris' editor should have said/suggested/demanded:
"Chris, you've know Jerry Harrison for 40 years. Come up with 10 pages of stuff to write about him. Are you guys friends?"
"Chris, you never studied music before starting Talking Heads, but you became a successful producer, write about that."
"Chris, no one gives a goddamn that a person you met is related to or interacted with someone who was famous but whom you never met, and you fall into providing this useless information 100 times."
"Chris, lots of people want to know about your style, method, approach to, or philosophy of drumming. You have to write a few pages about that, because to drummers, this is VERY important."
"Chris, lots of people want to know about your style, method, approach to, or philosophy of producing other people's recordings. You have to write a few pages about that and how you split the work with Tina."
"Chris, lots of people want to know a little about the economics of being a rock star without many publishing rights. You need to touch on this with more than the story of Tina counting the money before you were a hit. Did you get rich? You went from not enough money for lunch to buying a yacht and multiple homes, but you're not on the credits as the writer. Where does the money come from?"
"Chris, no one cares, NO ONE, about the dressing you had on a salad 40 years ago."
"Chris, you took a lot of drugs. When you had kids, did you feel differently about drugs? You mention that Tina did, but how did you FEEL? What do you think?"
"Chris, why didn't you make more Tom Tom Club music?"
"Chris, Talking Heads ended 30 years ago. You need more than 3% of your book to be about this half of your life. You wrote more about what you ate while touring for 'Talking Heads: 77' than you wrote about 30 years of your life."
"Chris, what does a rock star say to his 16-year-old kid? What kind of father are you?"
"Chris, your book will be much better if you drop 100 fewer names and provide 100 fewer menus from meals."
"Chris, what do you do for fun? What do you read? Do you still paint? Where do you live? Have you kicked drugs? Do you still drum? Is there anything left in the music tank?"
Chris' editor should have said/suggested/demanded:
"Chris, you've know Jerry Harrison for 40 years. Come up with 10 pages of stuff to write about him. Are you guys friends?"
"Chris, you never studied music before starting Talking Heads, but you became a successful producer, write about that."
"Chris, no one gives a goddamn that a person you met is related to or interacted with someone who was famous but whom you never met, and you fall into providing this useless information 100 times."
"Chris, lots of people want to know about your style, method, approach to, or philosophy of drumming. You have to write a few pages about that, because to drummers, this is VERY important."
"Chris, lots of people want to know about your style, method, approach to, or philosophy of producing other people's recordings. You have to write a few pages about that and how you split the work with Tina."
"Chris, lots of people want to know a little about the economics of being a rock star without many publishing rights. You need to touch on this with more than the story of Tina counting the money before you were a hit. Did you get rich? You went from not enough money for lunch to buying a yacht and multiple homes, but you're not on the credits as the writer. Where does the money come from?"
"Chris, no one cares, NO ONE, about the dressing you had on a salad 40 years ago."
"Chris, you took a lot of drugs. When you had kids, did you feel differently about drugs? You mention that Tina did, but how did you FEEL? What do you think?"
"Chris, why didn't you make more Tom Tom Club music?"
"Chris, Talking Heads ended 30 years ago. You need more than 3% of your book to be about this half of your life. You wrote more about what you ate while touring for 'Talking Heads: 77' than you wrote about 30 years of your life."
"Chris, what does a rock star say to his 16-year-old kid? What kind of father are you?"
"Chris, your book will be much better if you drop 100 fewer names and provide 100 fewer menus from meals."
"Chris, what do you do for fun? What do you read? Do you still paint? Where do you live? Have you kicked drugs? Do you still drum? Is there anything left in the music tank?"
September 8, 2020
Back in the late seventies and early eighties I used to listen to the albums released by Talking Heads. I really liked some of their songs but thought others were just so-so. I never saw them live, but in 1984 I went to the cinema to see the concert film “Stop Making Sense” which I thought was absolutely fantastic. I still play some of my favourite songs from that film. One of the things I liked about this book was that it also reminded me of some of the band’s songs that came after that period, like “Road to Nowhere” and “Puzzlin’ Evidence”. I had completely forgotten about those and have now been playing them again.
The first forty pages of this book were about Chris Frantz’s childhood and adolescence, and to be honest I found this opening section a bit boring. I was here to read about Talking Heads, and the text livened up once it got to the author attending the Rhode Island School of Design, where he met Tina Weymouth and David Byrne. The story of the band’s early years in New York was one of the most interesting parts, not just for how Talking Heads developed but because in the early 70s they hung around artists and bands like Debbie Harry, The Ramones and Mink DeVille, who were also just starting out. Later on Talking Heads developed links with The B-52s, another band I was keen on at the time.
You get the impression from the book that Chris Frantz is the sort of guy who goes “all in” in whatever he feels and does. The positive side of this is that he is passionate in adoring his wife and fellow band member Tina Weymouth, whom he married in 1977, and that he was passionate about Talking Heads whilst the band existed. The downside is that he is also passionate about how much he loathes David Byrne, even 30 years after Talking Heads broke up. In most people these feelings lessen over time, but clearly not with Chris Frantz. In this book he never misses an opportunity to stick the knife into Byrne, much of it done in an embittered tone that doesn’t do Frantz himself any favours. He doesn’t say much about Jerry Harrison, but I get the impression relations weren’t great with him either.
I felt the book was a bit unbalanced in that most of it was taken up with the early years of the band, and there was comparatively little coverage of what happened during the eighties. Late in the book we get a clue about why this might be, in that Frantz suddenly admits that by the 80s he had a major drug problem, so much so that Tina Weymouth gave him an ultimatum to shape up or their marriage was over. There are hints of this drug problem throughout the book, but the true extent of it is revealed only near the end and is covered in a page or so. I’m glad Chris Frantz has gotten over this, but I was left wondering how much he remembered of the period.
I wouldn’t say Chris Frantz is the greatest writer. His artistic talents lie in another direction. Parts of the book are taken up with descriptions of live shows and the audience reaction, so that there are passages like “We played the xyz nightclub and got a great audience reaction. The next night we played abc theatre but received only polite applause.” For all that, the book is reasonably interesting for fans of Talking Heads, if marred somewhat by the author’s bitterness towards David Byrne. It may be true that Byrne is the selfish, egocentric, prima donna that he’s portrayed as in the book. However, decades of managing staff disputes in my own work setting have taught me to listen to both sides of a story before coming to a firm opinion.
The first forty pages of this book were about Chris Frantz’s childhood and adolescence, and to be honest I found this opening section a bit boring. I was here to read about Talking Heads, and the text livened up once it got to the author attending the Rhode Island School of Design, where he met Tina Weymouth and David Byrne. The story of the band’s early years in New York was one of the most interesting parts, not just for how Talking Heads developed but because in the early 70s they hung around artists and bands like Debbie Harry, The Ramones and Mink DeVille, who were also just starting out. Later on Talking Heads developed links with The B-52s, another band I was keen on at the time.
You get the impression from the book that Chris Frantz is the sort of guy who goes “all in” in whatever he feels and does. The positive side of this is that he is passionate in adoring his wife and fellow band member Tina Weymouth, whom he married in 1977, and that he was passionate about Talking Heads whilst the band existed. The downside is that he is also passionate about how much he loathes David Byrne, even 30 years after Talking Heads broke up. In most people these feelings lessen over time, but clearly not with Chris Frantz. In this book he never misses an opportunity to stick the knife into Byrne, much of it done in an embittered tone that doesn’t do Frantz himself any favours. He doesn’t say much about Jerry Harrison, but I get the impression relations weren’t great with him either.
I felt the book was a bit unbalanced in that most of it was taken up with the early years of the band, and there was comparatively little coverage of what happened during the eighties. Late in the book we get a clue about why this might be, in that Frantz suddenly admits that by the 80s he had a major drug problem, so much so that Tina Weymouth gave him an ultimatum to shape up or their marriage was over. There are hints of this drug problem throughout the book, but the true extent of it is revealed only near the end and is covered in a page or so. I’m glad Chris Frantz has gotten over this, but I was left wondering how much he remembered of the period.
I wouldn’t say Chris Frantz is the greatest writer. His artistic talents lie in another direction. Parts of the book are taken up with descriptions of live shows and the audience reaction, so that there are passages like “We played the xyz nightclub and got a great audience reaction. The next night we played abc theatre but received only polite applause.” For all that, the book is reasonably interesting for fans of Talking Heads, if marred somewhat by the author’s bitterness towards David Byrne. It may be true that Byrne is the selfish, egocentric, prima donna that he’s portrayed as in the book. However, decades of managing staff disputes in my own work setting have taught me to listen to both sides of a story before coming to a firm opinion.
May 12, 2020
Chris Frantz ends his autobiography by explaining that he's not a person who "moves on" from friends and family. Instead, he "remains" and "remains in love." Chris Frantz and his wife Tina Weymouth have been a matched set for over forty years since they met at the famed art college RISD and formed the rhythm section (drums and bass respectively) a unique and original band with classmate David Byrne and later Jerry Harrison. This is not just another rock legend biography, but a lifelong love story as well.
Although as with most of these rock star biographies, there are times Chris gets bogged down in the details of each tour, it is a fascinating and well-written book that takes us from Chris' childhood through his college years and the big adventure moving to the Bowery with Tina and David. And not signing a record contract till they were ready even though they wrote Psycho Killer years before it debuted on the radio, timed with amazing synchronicity as the Son of Sam (David Berkowitz) haunted the NYC streets. Their first world tour is across Europe opening for the Ramones.
Some of us perhaps never made the connection that the Tom Tom Club was Chris and Tina's solo project when Byrne and Jerry went to do solo albums. A completely different sound, an explosive beat, and they toured at least once with their second band opening for their first.
Of course, it's not all wine and roses as the book details Byrne's habit of taking credit for group lyrics and being the face of the Talking Heads. But, Chris and Tina's story is powerful in a world of short lived rock and roll marriages how they remained together creating On and off stage.
Many thanks to the publisher for providing a copy for review.
Although as with most of these rock star biographies, there are times Chris gets bogged down in the details of each tour, it is a fascinating and well-written book that takes us from Chris' childhood through his college years and the big adventure moving to the Bowery with Tina and David. And not signing a record contract till they were ready even though they wrote Psycho Killer years before it debuted on the radio, timed with amazing synchronicity as the Son of Sam (David Berkowitz) haunted the NYC streets. Their first world tour is across Europe opening for the Ramones.
Some of us perhaps never made the connection that the Tom Tom Club was Chris and Tina's solo project when Byrne and Jerry went to do solo albums. A completely different sound, an explosive beat, and they toured at least once with their second band opening for their first.
Of course, it's not all wine and roses as the book details Byrne's habit of taking credit for group lyrics and being the face of the Talking Heads. But, Chris and Tina's story is powerful in a world of short lived rock and roll marriages how they remained together creating On and off stage.
Many thanks to the publisher for providing a copy for review.
January 17, 2021
Remain in Love is Chris Frantz's entertaining account of his time in the band Talking Heads. It begins with memories of a happy childhood and continues with his time in the Rhode Island School of Design, where he met future bandmates Tina Weymouth and David Byrne.
Frantz's relationship with these two people forms the most interesting aspect of the story. He was smitten with Weymouth from the start. They married in 1977 and are still together today. Frantz declares his undying love for Weymouth multiple times throughout the book, and it is sweet, even though it gets a little repetitive.
On the other hand, there is no love lost between Frantz and Byrne. He accuses Byrne of taking the credit for most of the bands' work and passing other member's ideas off as his own. When Frantz and Weymouth scored a major hit with their own side project Tom Tom Club, he describes the resentment Byrne felt towards them. He also highlights Byrne's awkwardness in several social situations. I felt Frantz was a bit harsh on Byrne overall. He gives him little credit for being such a brilliant frontman, and makes no allowances for Byrne's autism.
Frantz's memoir provides an intriguing glimpse of the New York music scene in the late 70s, and he's not afraid to name drop. He talks about hanging out with Debbie Harry and Patti Smith at CBGBs, visits to Lou Reed's apartment, meetings with Andy Warhol. He describes life on tour with The Ramones (he's not a fan of Johnny) and XTC. He gives an insight into what it was like filming the legendary concert film Stop Making Sense. Most of all, I enjoyed his tales of recording albums in the Caribbean, the ill-fated production of the Happy Mondays' Yes Please! being a particular highlight. I knew the Manchester band were wild but I had no idea they were this level of crazy.
However, while the book often fascinating, it's not very well-written. The prose is flat and lifeless - it reminded me of a schoolkid telling you what he did on his summer holidays: this happened, then this happened, then this happened. But if you're a fan of the band, or the 70s/80s music scene in general, you will find plenty of juicy anecdotes to enjoy.
Frantz's relationship with these two people forms the most interesting aspect of the story. He was smitten with Weymouth from the start. They married in 1977 and are still together today. Frantz declares his undying love for Weymouth multiple times throughout the book, and it is sweet, even though it gets a little repetitive.
On the other hand, there is no love lost between Frantz and Byrne. He accuses Byrne of taking the credit for most of the bands' work and passing other member's ideas off as his own. When Frantz and Weymouth scored a major hit with their own side project Tom Tom Club, he describes the resentment Byrne felt towards them. He also highlights Byrne's awkwardness in several social situations. I felt Frantz was a bit harsh on Byrne overall. He gives him little credit for being such a brilliant frontman, and makes no allowances for Byrne's autism.
Frantz's memoir provides an intriguing glimpse of the New York music scene in the late 70s, and he's not afraid to name drop. He talks about hanging out with Debbie Harry and Patti Smith at CBGBs, visits to Lou Reed's apartment, meetings with Andy Warhol. He describes life on tour with The Ramones (he's not a fan of Johnny) and XTC. He gives an insight into what it was like filming the legendary concert film Stop Making Sense. Most of all, I enjoyed his tales of recording albums in the Caribbean, the ill-fated production of the Happy Mondays' Yes Please! being a particular highlight. I knew the Manchester band were wild but I had no idea they were this level of crazy.
However, while the book often fascinating, it's not very well-written. The prose is flat and lifeless - it reminded me of a schoolkid telling you what he did on his summer holidays: this happened, then this happened, then this happened. But if you're a fan of the band, or the 70s/80s music scene in general, you will find plenty of juicy anecdotes to enjoy.
July 27, 2020
I should start by saying I truly think Chris Frantz is an amazing drummer and has always seemed to me a good person. There's something wonderful about the enduring love he has with Tina, and it is made very obvious in this book.
However, this might be one of the worst memoirs I've ever read. Frantz is a creative person, but that does not make one a good writer or memoirist. And I don't necessarily blame Frantz - it is far harder than it seems to write a good music memoir, but it almost feels like there was no editor around to help guide him into making a better book.
A quick list of issues:
-Frantz describes everyone based on how attractive they were. Everyone, it seems, was gorgeous.
-A lot of namedropping of random people in his life, plus namedropping of famous people he ran into (whose function most of the time is just to be a famous person who has shown up)
-literally so much detail about Talking Heads' 1977 European tour that I started to laugh. Literally every show was amazing. Literally every show had three encores. Literally every bed he and Tina slept in was tough. Johnny Ramone was a bully and didn't like European food. I'm guessing Frantz referred to some journals from this time, but good lord it was boring.
-I saw another review that mentions that while there were issues with David Byrne that are clearly laid out, it almost feels like Jerry Harrison barely existed (outside of a tough time in Harrison's life before being able to bounce back)
-Frantz talks about getting help for a drug problem almost in passing as if it wasn't a big deal.
-Zero discussion of anything that happened in the late nineties, all the way up to present day, save for the induction into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame.
-For no real reason, Frantz tells a story about John Martyn being abusive in Bahamas.
-The way Frantz wrote what happened after the Rock Hall party with David Byrne, and then a quick concluding paragraph and the book is over. The tone was outright bizarre.
Had this book been shortened to half its length, with most of the minute details culled, it might have been a little bit better as a book. It is nice to hear from his perspective, as Byrne has spent most of the last 25 years in a bigger spotlight, and not really given the other band members the space to talk. To be honest, I bet Byrne would read the book and agree with everything Frantz said. It doesn't make me love Byrne or Frantz any less - they're both flawed and that's fine. But Byrne's How Music Works is a significantly better book (even though the purpose of his was different), because it was just better written.
I'm mostly sad this book isn't better. I was very excited to read it but it was at times written so badly I wondered if I should stop. That's never a good sign when reading about a band someone loves...
However, this might be one of the worst memoirs I've ever read. Frantz is a creative person, but that does not make one a good writer or memoirist. And I don't necessarily blame Frantz - it is far harder than it seems to write a good music memoir, but it almost feels like there was no editor around to help guide him into making a better book.
A quick list of issues:
-Frantz describes everyone based on how attractive they were. Everyone, it seems, was gorgeous.
-A lot of namedropping of random people in his life, plus namedropping of famous people he ran into (whose function most of the time is just to be a famous person who has shown up)
-literally so much detail about Talking Heads' 1977 European tour that I started to laugh. Literally every show was amazing. Literally every show had three encores. Literally every bed he and Tina slept in was tough. Johnny Ramone was a bully and didn't like European food. I'm guessing Frantz referred to some journals from this time, but good lord it was boring.
-I saw another review that mentions that while there were issues with David Byrne that are clearly laid out, it almost feels like Jerry Harrison barely existed (outside of a tough time in Harrison's life before being able to bounce back)
-Frantz talks about getting help for a drug problem almost in passing as if it wasn't a big deal.
-Zero discussion of anything that happened in the late nineties, all the way up to present day, save for the induction into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame.
-For no real reason, Frantz tells a story about John Martyn being abusive in Bahamas.
-The way Frantz wrote what happened after the Rock Hall party with David Byrne, and then a quick concluding paragraph and the book is over. The tone was outright bizarre.
Had this book been shortened to half its length, with most of the minute details culled, it might have been a little bit better as a book. It is nice to hear from his perspective, as Byrne has spent most of the last 25 years in a bigger spotlight, and not really given the other band members the space to talk. To be honest, I bet Byrne would read the book and agree with everything Frantz said. It doesn't make me love Byrne or Frantz any less - they're both flawed and that's fine. But Byrne's How Music Works is a significantly better book (even though the purpose of his was different), because it was just better written.
I'm mostly sad this book isn't better. I was very excited to read it but it was at times written so badly I wondered if I should stop. That's never a good sign when reading about a band someone loves...
July 27, 2020
Talking Heads are one of my favorite bands of all time, so I was very interested to read this memoir account by drummer Chris Frantz. Frantz and his wife Tina Weymouth were the rhythm section for the Heads and the creative partnership behind Tom Tom Club, and their marriage and relationship really created a steady foundation for the band and their lives. David Byrne comes off pretty badly in this book ("David is a person incapable of returning friendship") and I think some of that comes down to different values and outlooks on life. From this telling, Frantz treated the Heads as a family that produced great music together while Byrne (in this telling) saw it as a way to create good music/art and left when his ambition and plans outgrew the band, a more business outlook that would not mix well with Franz's approach. I loved Franz's description of the energy of playing live, the relationships he formed with other bands, and the details of studio recording, but I would have loved hearing more about how they came up with the music. Frantz also comes off as somewhat bourgeoisie for a rock star, with discussions of real estate, celebrity encounters, and listing of menus at music industry soirees, but that also matches well with his family and comfort values (the cocaine habit maybe not). There was way too much commentary about females' appearances; came off as a bit creepy. It's also strange the there's very little discussion of Jerry Harrison in the book compared to the other bandmates. But in the end, Talking Heads made amazing music, the book is very interesting and listenable, and while Byrne maybe the cooler and more artistic one, Frantz and Weymouth are the ones I'd rather be friends with.
**Thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
**Thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
July 25, 2020
The color of the bridesmaids and the groomsmen‘s clothing at Chris and Tina’s wedding is just one of the scintillating anecdotes that you’ll skim over while zipping through this pedestrian account of what I assume to be an interesting life.
Poor writing and an astonishing lack of insight make this the least essential rock memoir ever.
Poor writing and an astonishing lack of insight make this the least essential rock memoir ever.
June 15, 2020
I finally finished reading Remain In Love, the book by Chris Frantz, drummer for Talking Heads and Tom Tom Club. Man, I did not like this book at all. I can pretty much summarize this book by the 3 main themes that run through the book. Let me save you the trouble of reading 400 pages.
1. Chris Frantz is totally over the top in love with his wife Tina Weymouth and has been since they were both at Rhode Island School of Design.
2. He really hates David Byrne and doesn’t try to sugarcoat how he feels like he was mistreated and lied to, and DB was not the genius behind the band.
3. He’s white and privileged.
I think if I had read this book a month ago, the 3rd theme would not have stood out as much. Chris Frantz is from a small town in Kentucky and boy does it show in his perspective of things. I have to admit, I’m not a huge fan of Talking Heads. I like a few songs but I’m more of a casual listener than a fan. I wanted to read this because I was interested to read about CBGB’s in the late 70s. All Chris Frantz does though is shit on Joey Ramone about how awful a person he was and talk about how David Byrne stole lyrics and writing credits from him. Reading this did not make me a fan.
The first 70 pages or so are all these mundane stories about his friends growing up. He’s like your granny who tells you all about these people she knows but you couldn’t care less about. I almost stopped reading because it was such a slog. I really didn’t need to know about all the different apartments that he lived in while he was at RISD!
The most interesting thing about the book? I found out that I stayed in the same hotel in Amsterdam as they did on their first tour of Europe. Cool, huh?
1. Chris Frantz is totally over the top in love with his wife Tina Weymouth and has been since they were both at Rhode Island School of Design.
2. He really hates David Byrne and doesn’t try to sugarcoat how he feels like he was mistreated and lied to, and DB was not the genius behind the band.
3. He’s white and privileged.
I think if I had read this book a month ago, the 3rd theme would not have stood out as much. Chris Frantz is from a small town in Kentucky and boy does it show in his perspective of things. I have to admit, I’m not a huge fan of Talking Heads. I like a few songs but I’m more of a casual listener than a fan. I wanted to read this because I was interested to read about CBGB’s in the late 70s. All Chris Frantz does though is shit on Joey Ramone about how awful a person he was and talk about how David Byrne stole lyrics and writing credits from him. Reading this did not make me a fan.
The first 70 pages or so are all these mundane stories about his friends growing up. He’s like your granny who tells you all about these people she knows but you couldn’t care less about. I almost stopped reading because it was such a slog. I really didn’t need to know about all the different apartments that he lived in while he was at RISD!
The most interesting thing about the book? I found out that I stayed in the same hotel in Amsterdam as they did on their first tour of Europe. Cool, huh?
September 22, 2020
Inevitably, David Byrne comes across as a complete jerk here, and the pages are filled with either examples of Byrne's petty, obnoxious behaviour or the (soon to be fulfilled) expectation of yet more Dave acting like a tw*t. Despite this -- and maybe a little too much sketchy 'Gee, X was really nice/not so great'(Bob Geldof makes a fleeting appearance being his usual 'charming' self) -- there's plenty of stuff about making those great records, the amazing list of collaborators (Johnny Marr - 'Great guy' - flies over to do a guitar solo on one of their best songs, joins them for a bit of 'herb' then gets back on a plane) and the CBGB origins to keep geek-fans interested.
--
'In early 1992, our office received a call from the management of the Happy Mondays. They asked if Tina and I were available to produce their new record. The truth is that all we knew about the Happy Mondays was that they were a band from Manchester, UK, and had a string of hits on Tony Wilson’s Factory Records. We had known Tony Wilson a bit and we liked him very much so we agreed to meet with the band’s manager, Nathan McGough, and the bass player, Paul Ryder. In fact, they took the train up from New York City to Connecticut to meet with us.
Nathan and Paul stressed the fact that the band wanted to actually play the songs on their new record, and of course they got no argument from us about that. It seems their previous couple of albums had been very successfully produced by DJs who took snippets of the band’s recordings and then looped them into a dance groove that was programmed. You see, this was the time of Nirvana, the era of grunge, long, stringy hair, and flannel shirts. There was great emphasis put on keeping the music raw and unfiltered, kind of like punk but without the discipline. In fact, grunge was the antithesis of the whole Manchester dance-music thing. So Tina and I said yeah, we can dig that. You want to play on your own records? You want to make the record in Barbados? Let’s do it. No one gave us any idea what we were getting ourselves into.
When the band arrived very late one night, we were in for a bit of a shock. They came straight from the airport and informed us that Paul’s brother, front man Shaun Ryder, had dropped and broken his six-week supply of methadone at the Manchester Airport. Nathan McGough described the scene of Sean on his hands and knees licking up as much of the methadone as he could from the floor of the airport. By the time they arrived in Barbados, Shaun was dope sick and the entire band and entourage of wives, girlfriends, and the Ryders’ parents were in a state of anxious exhaustion.
Nobody had told us about Shaun’s bad habits. If Tina and I had been different types of people we would have quit right then and there. Instead, we tried to help everyone get settled in. Some of the band was staying in the studio’s residential quarters; the rest were staying in private cottages at Sam Lord’s Castle, a luxury resort several miles away. We told everyone to get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow we would begin setting up to record.
The following day, we waited for the band’s gear to be delivered from the airport. While we were hanging out, trying to get to know each other and understand the band’s Mancunian accents, we heard screaming from outside the studio. The studio was very private, surrounded by sugar cane fields and located way back from the main road. What the ruckus was about was that Mark “Bez” Berry, the band’s dancer and maraca shaker, had been doing donuts with his newly rented open-air Jeep in the sugar cane field and flipped the car, which landed right on his upper arm, shattering it and nearly cutting it off completely. Somebody brought Bez into the studio lounge while we tried to get an emergency doctor on the phone. I remember Tina staying with Bez and trying to hold his arm together while everyone else tried not to freak out. Tina was a steady presence no matter what was happening. His arm looked really, really bad. Eventually, an ambulance arrived and took Bez to the hospital. When he returned later that evening his arm was held together with some contraption resembling the Brooklyn Bridge. Of course, Shaun wanted Bez’s painkillers.
While we were in the studio with the band, Shaun made a discovery. While there was no heroin available in Barbados, there was loads of crack cocaine. He was supposed to be writing lyrics but Shaun managed to find a dealer and he began smoking rocks of crack instead. He tried to hide this from everybody else—as if we wouldn’t notice.
One evening the percussionist, Bruce Martin, found Shaun loading furniture from the guesthouse at Blue Wave Studios into the back of his car—to trade for crack. Bruce had to physically restrain Shaun from doing so. Shaun drove off without the furniture and no one had any idea where he had gone until the following day, when he called for someone to come and get him. He had driven his rental car right though a plate-glass window into the living room of some poor lady’s home. In only a few weeks, the Mondays had managed to wreck five cars.'
--
'In early 1992, our office received a call from the management of the Happy Mondays. They asked if Tina and I were available to produce their new record. The truth is that all we knew about the Happy Mondays was that they were a band from Manchester, UK, and had a string of hits on Tony Wilson’s Factory Records. We had known Tony Wilson a bit and we liked him very much so we agreed to meet with the band’s manager, Nathan McGough, and the bass player, Paul Ryder. In fact, they took the train up from New York City to Connecticut to meet with us.
Nathan and Paul stressed the fact that the band wanted to actually play the songs on their new record, and of course they got no argument from us about that. It seems their previous couple of albums had been very successfully produced by DJs who took snippets of the band’s recordings and then looped them into a dance groove that was programmed. You see, this was the time of Nirvana, the era of grunge, long, stringy hair, and flannel shirts. There was great emphasis put on keeping the music raw and unfiltered, kind of like punk but without the discipline. In fact, grunge was the antithesis of the whole Manchester dance-music thing. So Tina and I said yeah, we can dig that. You want to play on your own records? You want to make the record in Barbados? Let’s do it. No one gave us any idea what we were getting ourselves into.
When the band arrived very late one night, we were in for a bit of a shock. They came straight from the airport and informed us that Paul’s brother, front man Shaun Ryder, had dropped and broken his six-week supply of methadone at the Manchester Airport. Nathan McGough described the scene of Sean on his hands and knees licking up as much of the methadone as he could from the floor of the airport. By the time they arrived in Barbados, Shaun was dope sick and the entire band and entourage of wives, girlfriends, and the Ryders’ parents were in a state of anxious exhaustion.
Nobody had told us about Shaun’s bad habits. If Tina and I had been different types of people we would have quit right then and there. Instead, we tried to help everyone get settled in. Some of the band was staying in the studio’s residential quarters; the rest were staying in private cottages at Sam Lord’s Castle, a luxury resort several miles away. We told everyone to get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow we would begin setting up to record.
The following day, we waited for the band’s gear to be delivered from the airport. While we were hanging out, trying to get to know each other and understand the band’s Mancunian accents, we heard screaming from outside the studio. The studio was very private, surrounded by sugar cane fields and located way back from the main road. What the ruckus was about was that Mark “Bez” Berry, the band’s dancer and maraca shaker, had been doing donuts with his newly rented open-air Jeep in the sugar cane field and flipped the car, which landed right on his upper arm, shattering it and nearly cutting it off completely. Somebody brought Bez into the studio lounge while we tried to get an emergency doctor on the phone. I remember Tina staying with Bez and trying to hold his arm together while everyone else tried not to freak out. Tina was a steady presence no matter what was happening. His arm looked really, really bad. Eventually, an ambulance arrived and took Bez to the hospital. When he returned later that evening his arm was held together with some contraption resembling the Brooklyn Bridge. Of course, Shaun wanted Bez’s painkillers.
While we were in the studio with the band, Shaun made a discovery. While there was no heroin available in Barbados, there was loads of crack cocaine. He was supposed to be writing lyrics but Shaun managed to find a dealer and he began smoking rocks of crack instead. He tried to hide this from everybody else—as if we wouldn’t notice.
One evening the percussionist, Bruce Martin, found Shaun loading furniture from the guesthouse at Blue Wave Studios into the back of his car—to trade for crack. Bruce had to physically restrain Shaun from doing so. Shaun drove off without the furniture and no one had any idea where he had gone until the following day, when he called for someone to come and get him. He had driven his rental car right though a plate-glass window into the living room of some poor lady’s home. In only a few weeks, the Mondays had managed to wreck five cars.'
October 25, 2022
I was 13 years when I became a Talking Heads fan in 1982. It was after seeing their "Once In a Lifetime" video on MTV then rushing out to buy their live album 'The Name of This Band is Talking Heads" (which is still my favorite live album of all-time, even to this day). Later I really got into their 'Fear of Music' and 'Remain in Light" albums, but then progressively lost interest with "Speaking in Tongues", "Little Creatures" and especially "True Stories". By "Naked" I was just downright disappointed. I also loved Tom Tom Club's video for "Genius of Love" although I didn't realize until months after hearing it that Tom Tom Club was essentially the rhythm section from Talking Heads (along with some friends and studio studs). The rhythm section of Talking Heads was of course the married couple of bassist Tina Weymouth and drummer Chris Frantz.
I wasn't expecting brilliance from Chris Franz's memoir 'Remain In Love', but I was certainly hoping for more than the half-assed book that I got. Trying to power through the first few chapters that get mired down in Frantz’s predictably boring white-privileged upbringing was especially daunting. This habit of lingering on an uninteresting childhood is very common in the memoirs of famous people... I get it, everyone loves re-living their childhood, but a good editor should have coaxed Frantz into condensing these fifty pages or so quite a bit - OR at least had him work the details of his childhood into some larger context. Instead, we get this droning on about girls he had the hots for, being given a car when he turned 16, then later in the book lame stuff about sailing and his clothing and the food he ate and the traveling habits of his two dogs, etc... It began to read more like a succession of Facebook posts from some sad loser with no life.
I will say that things picked up temporarily in the book when Franz met Weymouth and Talking Head frontman David Byrne at an art school in Rhode Island. But the only really non-fingernails across the chalkboard part of the memoir was when the three original Talking Heads moved into a loft together in NYC and became part of the early CBGB scene. There was some real gold to mine in that subject matter, but Franz seemed too preoccupied with pointing out perceived slights by David Byrne - which was done with a pettiness that was pretty much par for the course within the book in general. This pettiness also distracted Franz from delving into any insights into the creative process of one of the most creative bands of the late 70s/early 80s era.
In terms of the music, Christ Franz’s biggest asset was that he could keep time and that his drumming wasn’t a distraction to the cool and brilliance of the other members. Franz added very little to the music, and in fact, in the early 80s, the band enlisted other percussionists to bring drum soundscapes to their music because Franz wasn’t able to provide what the music called for. Franz also didn't do any of the songwriting or lyric writing or producing for Talking Heads. He seemed to be a guy of mediocre talent and personality that was lucky to be in the right place at the right time with the right people – which makes his memoir read very much like the tale of a guy born on third base who is bragging about hitting a triple. Nonetheless, he was there – on third base, which gives him a platform and an audience - so you would hope he had some good stories and some insight into a brilliant band, a brilliant scene, and 1980s American pop culture. Unfortunately, those stories and insights are pretty much non-existent here. This leads me to conclude that 'Remain in Love' should have remained in mothballs.
I wasn't expecting brilliance from Chris Franz's memoir 'Remain In Love', but I was certainly hoping for more than the half-assed book that I got. Trying to power through the first few chapters that get mired down in Frantz’s predictably boring white-privileged upbringing was especially daunting. This habit of lingering on an uninteresting childhood is very common in the memoirs of famous people... I get it, everyone loves re-living their childhood, but a good editor should have coaxed Frantz into condensing these fifty pages or so quite a bit - OR at least had him work the details of his childhood into some larger context. Instead, we get this droning on about girls he had the hots for, being given a car when he turned 16, then later in the book lame stuff about sailing and his clothing and the food he ate and the traveling habits of his two dogs, etc... It began to read more like a succession of Facebook posts from some sad loser with no life.
I will say that things picked up temporarily in the book when Franz met Weymouth and Talking Head frontman David Byrne at an art school in Rhode Island. But the only really non-fingernails across the chalkboard part of the memoir was when the three original Talking Heads moved into a loft together in NYC and became part of the early CBGB scene. There was some real gold to mine in that subject matter, but Franz seemed too preoccupied with pointing out perceived slights by David Byrne - which was done with a pettiness that was pretty much par for the course within the book in general. This pettiness also distracted Franz from delving into any insights into the creative process of one of the most creative bands of the late 70s/early 80s era.
In terms of the music, Christ Franz’s biggest asset was that he could keep time and that his drumming wasn’t a distraction to the cool and brilliance of the other members. Franz added very little to the music, and in fact, in the early 80s, the band enlisted other percussionists to bring drum soundscapes to their music because Franz wasn’t able to provide what the music called for. Franz also didn't do any of the songwriting or lyric writing or producing for Talking Heads. He seemed to be a guy of mediocre talent and personality that was lucky to be in the right place at the right time with the right people – which makes his memoir read very much like the tale of a guy born on third base who is bragging about hitting a triple. Nonetheless, he was there – on third base, which gives him a platform and an audience - so you would hope he had some good stories and some insight into a brilliant band, a brilliant scene, and 1980s American pop culture. Unfortunately, those stories and insights are pretty much non-existent here. This leads me to conclude that 'Remain in Love' should have remained in mothballs.
April 10, 2020
The author of this book, Charton Christopher Frantz, starts by saying not many books about his main band, Talking Heads, were much cop. Well, in a way this isn't either, but it at least is an official volume. What's more, I think you can easily declare this has not been ghostwritten. There's an almost blunt, direct stylelessness about the memoir that proves he's not the ultimate purveyor of wordsmithery. The shot game for this book will kill you, if you imbibe every time a girl is rated by her looks (luckily, every one he can remember is gorgeous – and a lot of the blokes get a compliment, too). This does seem to stop, however, when he finally narrates his nuptials.
We have to accept this is an attempt at the definitive story, so accept a lot of fan-only detail of his childhood (military family moving around a lot, lots of private education) and college years. The shithole of the loft apartment Chris, Tina and David Byrne tried to live in while the Heads were a trio shows some of what the band has had to work through, private and art college schooling regardless. And then, on the basis of one single, copious live sets and an unfinished debut album, they toured France and Britain with the Ramones, which is again in forensic detail. You might take against this as a bit of name-dropping; I call it a minor marvel when Damon Albarn, working nights at a round-the-clock hotel bar, mentions he's got a band – especially as this is 1977 and he is nine years old.
So this is a mixed bag – the Head head will learn just as much about who did what at the author's wedding as they could ever care to, all the while praying for more than the gnomic dripfeed of What Went Wrong With the Band. By the end, with all the depth of detail, there's so little mention of Jerry Harrison, you might be led to believe there was a beef in that direction, and not just with what we are told was Byrne's irreparable selfishness. (They don't seem to have been really social together – it's unclear, but I don't think the full band were at Chris and Tina's wedding, and four people so allegedly close never seemed to really be connected outside of work.) But also by the end our guide to all this does seem a likeable and reliable narrator, telling us how the band managed to do more albums than the guy on the street might remember, and how he and Tina managed to work so well outside the Talking Heads world – even when Happy Mondays proved to be pretty much their worst nightmare come true. So by the end you do just about manage to forgive the nitpicking delivery of the early chapters, and appreciate the story for what it is. It might have been a lot shorter, it might have been a lot more subjective, but I was still grateful to read it.
Three and a half stars.
We have to accept this is an attempt at the definitive story, so accept a lot of fan-only detail of his childhood (military family moving around a lot, lots of private education) and college years. The shithole of the loft apartment Chris, Tina and David Byrne tried to live in while the Heads were a trio shows some of what the band has had to work through, private and art college schooling regardless. And then, on the basis of one single, copious live sets and an unfinished debut album, they toured France and Britain with the Ramones, which is again in forensic detail. You might take against this as a bit of name-dropping; I call it a minor marvel when Damon Albarn, working nights at a round-the-clock hotel bar, mentions he's got a band – especially as this is 1977 and he is nine years old.
So this is a mixed bag – the Head head will learn just as much about who did what at the author's wedding as they could ever care to, all the while praying for more than the gnomic dripfeed of What Went Wrong With the Band. By the end, with all the depth of detail, there's so little mention of Jerry Harrison, you might be led to believe there was a beef in that direction, and not just with what we are told was Byrne's irreparable selfishness. (They don't seem to have been really social together – it's unclear, but I don't think the full band were at Chris and Tina's wedding, and four people so allegedly close never seemed to really be connected outside of work.) But also by the end our guide to all this does seem a likeable and reliable narrator, telling us how the band managed to do more albums than the guy on the street might remember, and how he and Tina managed to work so well outside the Talking Heads world – even when Happy Mondays proved to be pretty much their worst nightmare come true. So by the end you do just about manage to forgive the nitpicking delivery of the early chapters, and appreciate the story for what it is. It might have been a lot shorter, it might have been a lot more subjective, but I was still grateful to read it.
Three and a half stars.
August 30, 2020
I thoroughly enjoyed Chris Frantz's version of the beginnings of one of my favorite groups, Talking Heads. I came to them late, and was a great fan of the film Stop Making Sense, particularly when it returned to San Francisco as part of the SF Film Festival on the occasion of its 15th anniversary. All "Heads" were there as well as director Jonathan Demme. But Chris has dedicated this book to his partner in life, Tina Weymouth, for a reason. To this day they remain a true collaboration, and he credits her contributions to their music as well as to their lives. Their relationship with David Byrne in forming the band was problematic from the beginning, but they exhibited extreme patience in the name of holding their band together by putting up with Byrne's mercurial behavior and hogging of credit for artistic input. While it doesn't change my opinion of Byrne, it does bring this beautiful couple out of the shadows for me.
September 11, 2020
A book that should never been published! As a big Talking Heads fan I was excited when I heard about this book. Unfortunately, band drummer Chris Frantz had no talent for writing a book and for even a die hard Heads fan there is little to salvage from this book. I had so many criticisms of the book that I began to make notes of things to point out in this review. Here they are:
-instead of providing more insights into things a fan would want to know about the band, he instead gives details and recalls what he ordered from room service and what drink he ordered at a bar. Odd and unnecessary.
- he was doing OK in early years (77 album) and gave too much detail of every tour stop, opening band , encore songs, hotel stayed at etc , but by time he gets to Fear of Music, he says almost nothing about touring that album ( arguably their best album and tour) . Instead he inserts a chapter on B52’s which added nothing and was oddly placed.
- he obviously hates David Byrne and takes countless shots at him and hard to find any praise for what he brought to the band. While I can understand an animosity here, Frantz wants you to believe that he and bassist wife Tina were the real brains of TH ( I don’t believe that).
- he also speaks of wife Tina as if she was worshipped by fans as some sex goddess ( almost like Princess Lea) and that her bass skills were what brought many to love the band. As a fan, I noticed neither of these.
-author is very sophomoric in how he writes frequently about his wife- oh how I love her, oh how I adore her, oh our romantic life together....No mention of a single bad time or difficulty between them in over 40 years of marriage. Nice for your kids to read but doubt they will believe it and not credible.
-a lot of name dropping, factoids ( an actor in one of their videos was one of last to see Sid & Nancy alive. Who cares ??!!) which could have been left out in place of more depth on the band ( like how could they only have $2,000 in bank account after Remain in Light LP)
- and lastly , just overall poor placement of his musings- he writes of receiving a gift of a pound of pot, followed in next (or same) sentence announcing Tinas pregnancy.
Overall - a book that should never have been written and for bookworms one to avoid.
-instead of providing more insights into things a fan would want to know about the band, he instead gives details and recalls what he ordered from room service and what drink he ordered at a bar. Odd and unnecessary.
- he was doing OK in early years (77 album) and gave too much detail of every tour stop, opening band , encore songs, hotel stayed at etc , but by time he gets to Fear of Music, he says almost nothing about touring that album ( arguably their best album and tour) . Instead he inserts a chapter on B52’s which added nothing and was oddly placed.
- he obviously hates David Byrne and takes countless shots at him and hard to find any praise for what he brought to the band. While I can understand an animosity here, Frantz wants you to believe that he and bassist wife Tina were the real brains of TH ( I don’t believe that).
- he also speaks of wife Tina as if she was worshipped by fans as some sex goddess ( almost like Princess Lea) and that her bass skills were what brought many to love the band. As a fan, I noticed neither of these.
-author is very sophomoric in how he writes frequently about his wife- oh how I love her, oh how I adore her, oh our romantic life together....No mention of a single bad time or difficulty between them in over 40 years of marriage. Nice for your kids to read but doubt they will believe it and not credible.
-a lot of name dropping, factoids ( an actor in one of their videos was one of last to see Sid & Nancy alive. Who cares ??!!) which could have been left out in place of more depth on the band ( like how could they only have $2,000 in bank account after Remain in Light LP)
- and lastly , just overall poor placement of his musings- he writes of receiving a gift of a pound of pot, followed in next (or same) sentence announcing Tinas pregnancy.
Overall - a book that should never have been written and for bookworms one to avoid.
July 19, 2020
First off, I won this in a goodreads giveaway. Thank you St. Martin’s press.
The irony of this book is that I constantly have Tom Tom Club and Talking Heads Songs stuck in my head. Mostly “Gangster of Love” “Road To Nowhere” and their cover of “Take Me To The River”.
In this book Chris Frantz talks about his life and how his bands and Tina are the most important to him.
What I enjoyed most about this book was the CBGB “years”. That time is one of my favourites in late 20th Century art and music. Frantz mentions the artists and musicians that he met during this time.
Give this book a go, and read about the things that Frantz participated in and saw.
The irony of this book is that I constantly have Tom Tom Club and Talking Heads Songs stuck in my head. Mostly “Gangster of Love” “Road To Nowhere” and their cover of “Take Me To The River”.
In this book Chris Frantz talks about his life and how his bands and Tina are the most important to him.
What I enjoyed most about this book was the CBGB “years”. That time is one of my favourites in late 20th Century art and music. Frantz mentions the artists and musicians that he met during this time.
Give this book a go, and read about the things that Frantz participated in and saw.
August 2, 2020
If you hate autistic people and women this is the book for you. It reads like Willy Loman's biography as written by Regina George from Mean Girls. If you like Talking Heads read How Music Works or Bicycle Diaries instead.
August 1, 2020
Kimley and I on our podcast BOOK MUSIK discuss the Chris Frantz memoir. I was disappointed with the book. Hear the podcast here: Book Musik podcast
July 30, 2020
Chris Frantz is an utter dullard. Avoid.
July 31, 2020
I love Talking Heads. Their music is incredible and original and makes me feel great. This memoir by the drummer, Chris Frantz was fascinating but, God bless him, he's a terrible writer. The book was really unbalanced. It goes into painstaking detail about two Talking Heads tours; four Tom Tom Club albums aren't even mentioned and he skims over the last 30 years in less than 50 pages.
Some of the stories are really cool, but he’s not great at telling them. You can tell he’s from a middle-class Middle/Southern America WASP background by his superficial, conservative views. You often get the impression that life is just something that happens to him and he's the nice guy who either marvels at the good bits or merely shrugs off the assholes.
There are countless examples of how he and Tina were wronged by others, particularly David Byrne and Johnny Ramone, but the details are so spare that you are left suspecting you are only getting half the story. Tina and he are always the blameless victims. Despite all his slagging-off of David Byrne, it is obvious that they were just very different types of people who didn't really get or even particularly like each other. Jerry Harrison, (one quarter of Talking Heads) is barely mentioned at all.
There was a great deal of detail about various meals the author had eaten or outfits people he met were wearing and yet we learn so little about his creative contribution to two extremely creative and critically acclaimed bands. There is very little insight into his approach as a drummer or producer.
Chris mentions having an apparently serious drug problem in the last few pages. He manages to get on top of it by the sound of things, but this deserved more than two lines in a book about his life.
I feel this was a missed opportunity, but I appreciate the effort. Where were the publishers/editors?
Some of the stories are really cool, but he’s not great at telling them. You can tell he’s from a middle-class Middle/Southern America WASP background by his superficial, conservative views. You often get the impression that life is just something that happens to him and he's the nice guy who either marvels at the good bits or merely shrugs off the assholes.
There are countless examples of how he and Tina were wronged by others, particularly David Byrne and Johnny Ramone, but the details are so spare that you are left suspecting you are only getting half the story. Tina and he are always the blameless victims. Despite all his slagging-off of David Byrne, it is obvious that they were just very different types of people who didn't really get or even particularly like each other. Jerry Harrison, (one quarter of Talking Heads) is barely mentioned at all.
There was a great deal of detail about various meals the author had eaten or outfits people he met were wearing and yet we learn so little about his creative contribution to two extremely creative and critically acclaimed bands. There is very little insight into his approach as a drummer or producer.
Chris mentions having an apparently serious drug problem in the last few pages. He manages to get on top of it by the sound of things, but this deserved more than two lines in a book about his life.
I feel this was a missed opportunity, but I appreciate the effort. Where were the publishers/editors?
December 23, 2020
When I was a teenager I read a lot of rock/punk/music press and literature and I fully bought into the myth-making, the romance, the “man I wish I was there”-ness of it all. It was fun, edifying, giving me fables to cling to, roadmaps to adulthood. Well, of course, I now know it was all bullshit. Underneath it’s just a bunch of people doing people things. So. Here we have a gentle, mostly inoffensive, undaring retelling of an upper-middle-class normal-guy rock ’n roll drummer’s career in a band that at one time meant more to me than I’m embarrassed to admit. The events are mundane, boring even. Just a laundry list of shows played and people met. Drugs taken. Cute girls noticed. There’s no more meaning than that. The unsavory thing about this book though, beyond the shattering of mythologies (which I’m old enough to deal with), is Frantz really has a bone to pick with David Byrne and an oddly strong and constant need to defend his wife’s sexiness, musical chops, and, well, the wonderfulness of the life they’ve lead (vis-a-vis Byrne, of course). The passive-aggressiveness is constant. And it feels icky. I don’t doubt their opinion but I don’t care. So, I hadn't listened to a Talking Heads' album from start to finish in years (maybe decades). But to clear my mind of this book I put on Remain in Light. There! It’s there! The romance rises and crackles. The fable’s heartbeat still (if faintly) beats. Just leave me with this. Don’t take it away.
November 12, 2020
Remain In Love is Chris Frantz's first hand account of his many years in the music business as part of the Talking Heads and the Tom Tom Club.
His passion for music and his wife, Tina Weymouth, is evident on every page!
A very informative biography with a vivid description of touring and the many musicians and celebrities he met along the way.
A time in rock & roll history that leaves me with wonderful memories!
Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for a copy of this novel in exchange for my honest review.
His passion for music and his wife, Tina Weymouth, is evident on every page!
A very informative biography with a vivid description of touring and the many musicians and celebrities he met along the way.
A time in rock & roll history that leaves me with wonderful memories!
Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for a copy of this novel in exchange for my honest review.
November 23, 2020
Lots of descriptions of meals for some reason. Stay hungry, indeed!
October 3, 2020
Being at the center of a crazy rock & roll scene is one of the most exhilarating experiences that one can experience in life. Things happen so quickly and then it’s over but the impact lives on forever. Being in CBGB’s in the mid 1970’s was ground zero for the next 40 years of music. The names live on: Television, the Ramones, Patti Smith, Blondie, Dead Boys, Heartbreakers and so on. Much has been written about those bands and we’ve gotten to know most of these people and wondered at the craziness that went on in that little dive bar. The band that always seemed slightly out of place were the Talking Heads: they wrote these great songs that were kind of punk, but they really didn’t sound like anything else that I had ever heard before. My first exposure to the Talking Heads came at a “New Wave Invasion” show at the Masonic Theater in Detroit when they opened up for the Ramones. Truthfully, I didn’t remember too much about the Talking Heads from that night as I was focused only on the Ramones. Soon, however the music and style of the Talking Heads started to seep into my head and I couldn’t help but listen to them.
So the whole point of this is that Chris Frantz of the Talking Heads has just published his autobiography “Remain in Love” and subtitled: “Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Tina”. Obviously, Tina comes first and Chris does a pretty food job of convincing us that she should be first. This is not your typical rock & roll memoir; the Talking Heads don’t miss shows, they don’t make silly and rash decisions, get arrested – they’re really nice people who happen to play in a really cool band that even toured with the Ramones.
From his early upbringing to his education at the Road Island School of Design where he met both Tina Weymouth and David Byrne, Chris Frantz did have the advantage of great parents and a stable environment. The Talking Heads were different than everybody else that played CBGB’s and their comfortable art school background was resented by many. But the Talking Heads worked as hard as anybody else and their drive to succeed was always there. They famously held off signing with Seymour Stein and Sire for a year until they felt that they were ready to make a record. Seymour Stein, for his own part, confessed that selling Sire to Warner Brothers was partially driven by his goal to break the Talking Heads nationally.
The stories about touring with the Ramones in Europe are some of my favorite parts of the book. Chris, Tina and David’s goal to experience the culture and cuisine of Europe even eventually almost convinced Johnny Ramone to enjoy the tour. Chris must have kept some complete journals from these travels or has a fantastic memory because he manages to rattle off a list of people that he met at shows across the world and includes set lists from CBGB’s. Personally, I could have done with a few less of these “who I met” anecdotes, but they really didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the book.
Of course, we know that Chris and Tina are deeply in love and Chris rightly can’t say enough about her. Their relationship with David Byrne is a different story. There isn’t any tremendous blowup, but through the entire Talking Heads career there are plenty of signs that David Byrne is not on the same page as they are. The commercial success of the Tom Tom Club didn’t help that situation.
The Talking Heads were a band that could create magnificent music and still deliver enough to handle opening for the Ramones (I can personally attest to that), but this book is really about Chris and Tina. They built their life together and were an integral part of a band that still sounds as groundbreaking today as they did back in the day. It’s very unlikely that the Talking Heads will ever play again, but it something that we can dream about.
So the whole point of this is that Chris Frantz of the Talking Heads has just published his autobiography “Remain in Love” and subtitled: “Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Tina”. Obviously, Tina comes first and Chris does a pretty food job of convincing us that she should be first. This is not your typical rock & roll memoir; the Talking Heads don’t miss shows, they don’t make silly and rash decisions, get arrested – they’re really nice people who happen to play in a really cool band that even toured with the Ramones.
From his early upbringing to his education at the Road Island School of Design where he met both Tina Weymouth and David Byrne, Chris Frantz did have the advantage of great parents and a stable environment. The Talking Heads were different than everybody else that played CBGB’s and their comfortable art school background was resented by many. But the Talking Heads worked as hard as anybody else and their drive to succeed was always there. They famously held off signing with Seymour Stein and Sire for a year until they felt that they were ready to make a record. Seymour Stein, for his own part, confessed that selling Sire to Warner Brothers was partially driven by his goal to break the Talking Heads nationally.
The stories about touring with the Ramones in Europe are some of my favorite parts of the book. Chris, Tina and David’s goal to experience the culture and cuisine of Europe even eventually almost convinced Johnny Ramone to enjoy the tour. Chris must have kept some complete journals from these travels or has a fantastic memory because he manages to rattle off a list of people that he met at shows across the world and includes set lists from CBGB’s. Personally, I could have done with a few less of these “who I met” anecdotes, but they really didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the book.
Of course, we know that Chris and Tina are deeply in love and Chris rightly can’t say enough about her. Their relationship with David Byrne is a different story. There isn’t any tremendous blowup, but through the entire Talking Heads career there are plenty of signs that David Byrne is not on the same page as they are. The commercial success of the Tom Tom Club didn’t help that situation.
The Talking Heads were a band that could create magnificent music and still deliver enough to handle opening for the Ramones (I can personally attest to that), but this book is really about Chris and Tina. They built their life together and were an integral part of a band that still sounds as groundbreaking today as they did back in the day. It’s very unlikely that the Talking Heads will ever play again, but it something that we can dream about.
January 12, 2022
As an avid fan, I have gone to countless Talking Heads shows, starting in the early CBGB days when admission was three bucks and you got your hand stamped.
As an avid fan, I almost wish I hadn’t read this book. It left a sour taste in my mouth.
It’s disheartening to read Frantz’s depiction of David Byrne as a self-centered narcissist, and, though I understand Frantz’s desire to set the record straight, he comes across as very bitter. I don’t know Byrne’s side of these stories, but even if they’re all true, I wish Frantz had not aired some of this family laundry. I think he could have gotten his points across about Byrne grabbing all the credit and going behind his band mates’ backs without including some details that were TMI, like a particularly disgusting rumor about what Byrne did in a London hotel room. If it’s a rumor, not a known fact, why include it?
It’s truly very sweet that he is madly in love with Tina — their long, solid marriage is especially rare in the world of rock musicians — but other than hearing about her beauty, her outfits, and guys falling for her, we get very little sense of her as a living, breathing person. This is true as well of his bandmate Jerry Harrison, or his own brother, who had the band Urban Verbs. He gives a better picture of Deedee Ramone (which was fun, actually) than any of these presumably closer relationships. I was dying to know more about what Dennis Hopper was like, but all we got was a description of what they had for lunch.
Speaking of which, Frantz’ memory for what he has eaten (and smoked and snorted, and for the color of the Brooks Brothers shirt he wore) over the past three or more decades is astonishing, but not terribly interesting to read about.
Also, it’s badly written, and in desperate need of a good editor. (For example, he mentions that the name of his boat is “Cool Runnings,” at least three different times.)
There were some fun stories, bits of gossip, and things of interest for sure. But I wish his descriptions of people, especially Tina, were richer than his description of that "creamy garlic salad dressing" that "most people agreed was the best."
As an avid fan, I almost wish I hadn’t read this book. It left a sour taste in my mouth.
It’s disheartening to read Frantz’s depiction of David Byrne as a self-centered narcissist, and, though I understand Frantz’s desire to set the record straight, he comes across as very bitter. I don’t know Byrne’s side of these stories, but even if they’re all true, I wish Frantz had not aired some of this family laundry. I think he could have gotten his points across about Byrne grabbing all the credit and going behind his band mates’ backs without including some details that were TMI, like a particularly disgusting rumor about what Byrne did in a London hotel room. If it’s a rumor, not a known fact, why include it?
It’s truly very sweet that he is madly in love with Tina — their long, solid marriage is especially rare in the world of rock musicians — but other than hearing about her beauty, her outfits, and guys falling for her, we get very little sense of her as a living, breathing person. This is true as well of his bandmate Jerry Harrison, or his own brother, who had the band Urban Verbs. He gives a better picture of Deedee Ramone (which was fun, actually) than any of these presumably closer relationships. I was dying to know more about what Dennis Hopper was like, but all we got was a description of what they had for lunch.
Speaking of which, Frantz’ memory for what he has eaten (and smoked and snorted, and for the color of the Brooks Brothers shirt he wore) over the past three or more decades is astonishing, but not terribly interesting to read about.
Also, it’s badly written, and in desperate need of a good editor. (For example, he mentions that the name of his boat is “Cool Runnings,” at least three different times.)
There were some fun stories, bits of gossip, and things of interest for sure. But I wish his descriptions of people, especially Tina, were richer than his description of that "creamy garlic salad dressing" that "most people agreed was the best."
May 19, 2020
ARC received from NetGalley for review
My initial reaction on finishing Chris Frantz's memoir came as a wave of relief, a feeling of happiness for having read a story steeped mainly in positivity while we continue to ride out COVID. Coming off books weighed down by heartbreaks (Open Book) and heroin (Slowhand), I was ready for something to lift me. I figured I couldn't go wrong with the story of a co-founder of an awesome band who's still in love with his awesome co-founder wife after forty-plus years.
This is not to say you're getting 400 pages of unicorns and gummy bears in Remain In Love. While Frantz gives a straightforward and easygoing voice to his memoir, there's an underlying restraint in the passages that discuss the speed bumps in his journey - about 90% of which involve David Byrne (Johnny Ramone makes up some of the difference). Frantz's life is quite a learning experience, especially for those intent on pursuing a career in music. Though I went into Remain in Love knowing next to nothing about the band (and Frantz emphasizes here that what books exists aren't wholly accurate - par for the course), I suspected I'd find some history of "us versus him" when recounting work with Byrne. That Frantz is able to handle conflicts with song ownership and contracts with calm is very admirable, and even in his writing he doesn't paint pictures of villains.
Remain in Love is a fun history of the Talking Heads, Frantz and Weymouth's long relationship and their Tom Tom Club projects. It is bit of a non-linear story, so be warned if that rankles. The highlight for me was Frantz's steel-trap recall of the Heads' European tour with the Ramones early in their career, a micro-history within the era of CBGB, early MTV, and a band that straddled rock and punk so well. If you're a fan, you'll come away from Remain in Love with a smile and a valuable lesson: listen to the woman in your group.
My initial reaction on finishing Chris Frantz's memoir came as a wave of relief, a feeling of happiness for having read a story steeped mainly in positivity while we continue to ride out COVID. Coming off books weighed down by heartbreaks (Open Book) and heroin (Slowhand), I was ready for something to lift me. I figured I couldn't go wrong with the story of a co-founder of an awesome band who's still in love with his awesome co-founder wife after forty-plus years.
This is not to say you're getting 400 pages of unicorns and gummy bears in Remain In Love. While Frantz gives a straightforward and easygoing voice to his memoir, there's an underlying restraint in the passages that discuss the speed bumps in his journey - about 90% of which involve David Byrne (Johnny Ramone makes up some of the difference). Frantz's life is quite a learning experience, especially for those intent on pursuing a career in music. Though I went into Remain in Love knowing next to nothing about the band (and Frantz emphasizes here that what books exists aren't wholly accurate - par for the course), I suspected I'd find some history of "us versus him" when recounting work with Byrne. That Frantz is able to handle conflicts with song ownership and contracts with calm is very admirable, and even in his writing he doesn't paint pictures of villains.
Remain in Love is a fun history of the Talking Heads, Frantz and Weymouth's long relationship and their Tom Tom Club projects. It is bit of a non-linear story, so be warned if that rankles. The highlight for me was Frantz's steel-trap recall of the Heads' European tour with the Ramones early in their career, a micro-history within the era of CBGB, early MTV, and a band that straddled rock and punk so well. If you're a fan, you'll come away from Remain in Love with a smile and a valuable lesson: listen to the woman in your group.
June 15, 2023
I read this twice, back to back, just to prove to myself that it was as really as bad as I initially thought. I was warned, by friends, before I even started it.
The Frantz brothers, and my early memories of them, was that they were insipid snobs, based on nothing but the glory in their mutual heads. I kept my distance, even then. How does someone wind up like this? They had acclaim early on. Things other young, creative people would want, to ease their own paths. View that "help" as a cautionary tale.
You can see, in the last photograph of the book what a life of drug and alcohol abuse, excessive eating and bad habits overall can do to you, including the script crammed spiral-wired notebooks one brother kept during these decades, just so he can remember, with exactitude, what Divine said to him on a beach? Curious? I'll give it to you: "Oh. Hiiiiii."
There's not a bottle of champagne he doesn't forget the maker nor vintage thanks to those notebooks. Let's buy a house in Connecticut. He buys a "yar" yacht and sails it down from Massachusetts to the Bahamas--all the while knowing he has to be in New York once a week for his outpatient treatments, so he's flying back and forth, while pulling into ports for shopping and fine eats. Make sense? No? I guess this is something only "old money" would understand....or stupid. And they were not old money, so do the math.
He has the writing style of a middle school student. We went to Paris. It was fun. Then we went to Rome. It was even more fun. David B. was not fun. These people are not looking to help their fellow man. Poor people aren't yar.
This book is so full of Byrne-bashing that it's an unpleasant read if you're a big fan of Talking Heads. It's not fun to read how miserable Chris and Tina were and how they always felt slighted by David Byrne. Frantz's writing (which needed a better editor to weed out his long lists of relatives and meals) shows such a complete lack of self-awareness. He doesn't give David Byrne any credit at all for the historic success of Talking Heads, disparaging Byrne's voice and quirky style (which put the band on the map) through most of the book. There is a total of ONE compliment paid to Byrne, and that's towards the bitter end. I also didn't understand how this book is a supposed love letter to Tina when Chris writes more than once about being madly attracted to Debbie Harry from Blondie, even trying to get her to join their band. There are much better books out there about the 70's music scene in NYC. I recommend Patti Smith's Just Kids and Debbie Harry's Face It, which won't leave you scratching your head about why they even bothered to stay in a band.
There are a number of potentially fascinating stories in Chris Frantz's bland, innocuous memoir. Unfortunately, none are developed or even examined in any detail. The book would be a nice starting point for a compelling memoir, but he never gets beyond the most superficial lists of names and events. Franz tries to come across as a nice guy, but his book slides around from one unrelated anecdote / event to another, giving more-or-less equal measure to his stint in rehab (one sentence) and Tina starting to play bass, for example, while both receive significantly less attention than the design details of their sailboat or the buffet at their wedding. Boy, does he remember food. There are no insights into the creative process or any details about anything at all, really. Big revelations: 1. David Byrne is self-centered and not a good bandmate, 2. Most of David's preppy shirts were actually Chris's. On the positive side: At least it wasn't ghost-written.
He is more concerned about salad dressing from 40 years ago than his own band. Please step outside yourself and see the beauty around you.... trust me, there is more than Tina to look at and admire. This book is so filled with name-dropping that it is completely frustrating. And, when I mean name-dropping, I mean things like Chris listing the names of all the cooks and wait staff that worked with him at a restaurant when he was in art school or listing every family member at his wedding with Tina in Kentucky (see example in photo). It is too much. There is even a chapter on James Brown that has nothing to do with anything other than it spotlighted the Godfather of Soul being in the Bahamas at the same time as them.
When I first started the book, the details were so specific that I kept asking myself how could he remember every name, meal, and street address from 50 years ago. It was utterly amazing, but unneeded. As the book goes on, however, the details become so sparse and the most important stories are glossed over. This book represents a perfect example of atrophy in motion. It takes more than half of the book to get to the first Talking Heads album which makes you wonder how will you get through all the other big albums and tours. I wish he had published just the notebooks. It would have been an equally boring read, but perhaps more honest. By the end (it ends at 90%), with the last chapter being so swift and full of brevity, I didn't realize it actually was the end.
This book is more of an observational piece than a story of Chris's life which is very unfortunate. He talks about the the people around him, but we want to hear about his experiences through the times of creating music and touring; he doesn't open that door for you. One of the most disappointing things in the entire book is how he never mentions one of the greatest musical projects he ever did: The Heads! He goes from being so detailed to completely skipping years and projects.
Chris at times takes swipes at people like Johnny Ramone, Brian Eno, Happy Mondays, and, of course, David Byrne, which are all probably well-deserved, but they come off as whiny when you don't have the actual story of Chris's life to counterbalance them. The book is like reading a grocery store list of facts rather than a personal memoir. Chris, at times, gives a small glance that he must have suffered from a very destructive drug habit, but it is never approached beyond brief mentions. The book suggests that Tina is also writing her own book, and, hopefully, she will take another route that allows the readers and fans the opportunity to live in her shoes rather than just listing events. Bleh, bleh and BLEH. His brother is just as bad.
The Frantz brothers, and my early memories of them, was that they were insipid snobs, based on nothing but the glory in their mutual heads. I kept my distance, even then. How does someone wind up like this? They had acclaim early on. Things other young, creative people would want, to ease their own paths. View that "help" as a cautionary tale.
You can see, in the last photograph of the book what a life of drug and alcohol abuse, excessive eating and bad habits overall can do to you, including the script crammed spiral-wired notebooks one brother kept during these decades, just so he can remember, with exactitude, what Divine said to him on a beach? Curious? I'll give it to you: "Oh. Hiiiiii."
There's not a bottle of champagne he doesn't forget the maker nor vintage thanks to those notebooks. Let's buy a house in Connecticut. He buys a "yar" yacht and sails it down from Massachusetts to the Bahamas--all the while knowing he has to be in New York once a week for his outpatient treatments, so he's flying back and forth, while pulling into ports for shopping and fine eats. Make sense? No? I guess this is something only "old money" would understand....or stupid. And they were not old money, so do the math.
He has the writing style of a middle school student. We went to Paris. It was fun. Then we went to Rome. It was even more fun. David B. was not fun. These people are not looking to help their fellow man. Poor people aren't yar.
This book is so full of Byrne-bashing that it's an unpleasant read if you're a big fan of Talking Heads. It's not fun to read how miserable Chris and Tina were and how they always felt slighted by David Byrne. Frantz's writing (which needed a better editor to weed out his long lists of relatives and meals) shows such a complete lack of self-awareness. He doesn't give David Byrne any credit at all for the historic success of Talking Heads, disparaging Byrne's voice and quirky style (which put the band on the map) through most of the book. There is a total of ONE compliment paid to Byrne, and that's towards the bitter end. I also didn't understand how this book is a supposed love letter to Tina when Chris writes more than once about being madly attracted to Debbie Harry from Blondie, even trying to get her to join their band. There are much better books out there about the 70's music scene in NYC. I recommend Patti Smith's Just Kids and Debbie Harry's Face It, which won't leave you scratching your head about why they even bothered to stay in a band.
There are a number of potentially fascinating stories in Chris Frantz's bland, innocuous memoir. Unfortunately, none are developed or even examined in any detail. The book would be a nice starting point for a compelling memoir, but he never gets beyond the most superficial lists of names and events. Franz tries to come across as a nice guy, but his book slides around from one unrelated anecdote / event to another, giving more-or-less equal measure to his stint in rehab (one sentence) and Tina starting to play bass, for example, while both receive significantly less attention than the design details of their sailboat or the buffet at their wedding. Boy, does he remember food. There are no insights into the creative process or any details about anything at all, really. Big revelations: 1. David Byrne is self-centered and not a good bandmate, 2. Most of David's preppy shirts were actually Chris's. On the positive side: At least it wasn't ghost-written.
He is more concerned about salad dressing from 40 years ago than his own band. Please step outside yourself and see the beauty around you.... trust me, there is more than Tina to look at and admire. This book is so filled with name-dropping that it is completely frustrating. And, when I mean name-dropping, I mean things like Chris listing the names of all the cooks and wait staff that worked with him at a restaurant when he was in art school or listing every family member at his wedding with Tina in Kentucky (see example in photo). It is too much. There is even a chapter on James Brown that has nothing to do with anything other than it spotlighted the Godfather of Soul being in the Bahamas at the same time as them.
When I first started the book, the details were so specific that I kept asking myself how could he remember every name, meal, and street address from 50 years ago. It was utterly amazing, but unneeded. As the book goes on, however, the details become so sparse and the most important stories are glossed over. This book represents a perfect example of atrophy in motion. It takes more than half of the book to get to the first Talking Heads album which makes you wonder how will you get through all the other big albums and tours. I wish he had published just the notebooks. It would have been an equally boring read, but perhaps more honest. By the end (it ends at 90%), with the last chapter being so swift and full of brevity, I didn't realize it actually was the end.
This book is more of an observational piece than a story of Chris's life which is very unfortunate. He talks about the the people around him, but we want to hear about his experiences through the times of creating music and touring; he doesn't open that door for you. One of the most disappointing things in the entire book is how he never mentions one of the greatest musical projects he ever did: The Heads! He goes from being so detailed to completely skipping years and projects.
Chris at times takes swipes at people like Johnny Ramone, Brian Eno, Happy Mondays, and, of course, David Byrne, which are all probably well-deserved, but they come off as whiny when you don't have the actual story of Chris's life to counterbalance them. The book is like reading a grocery store list of facts rather than a personal memoir. Chris, at times, gives a small glance that he must have suffered from a very destructive drug habit, but it is never approached beyond brief mentions. The book suggests that Tina is also writing her own book, and, hopefully, she will take another route that allows the readers and fans the opportunity to live in her shoes rather than just listing events. Bleh, bleh and BLEH. His brother is just as bad.
May 8, 2020
Chris Frantz steps out from behind the drum kit to chronicle an amazing life in music and marriage in Remain in Love, the memoir of the former Talking Heads and Tom Tom Club drummer. This book was highly anticipated for me, as the Talking Heads are one of my favorite bands of the post-punk era and they are also one of the more enigmatic ones, with little information surrounding their time together and eventual break up. Despite this, Frantz's memoir ended up being a bit of a mixed bag for me.
Written with an enthusiastic but clearly amateur zeal, the prose is at turns charming and infuriating as Frantz delves into what must be a near photographic memory, detailing the minutiae of his day to day life recording and touring, down to what everyone had to eat and drink on each particular day back in the 1970s and 80s. While these hyperactive details can get grating at times, the strength of the narrative comes when Frantz is talking about his relationship with his girlfriend and later wife, Talking Heads bassist Tina Weymouth. Frantz is clearly still head over heels for her and their relationship seems very strong, which is amazing given the amount of drugs and partying Frantz describes partaking in throughout the band's career.
Talking Heads fans looking for the juicy details on David Byrne's fractured relationship with his bandmates and the band's breakup may be a bit disappointed. Frantz is clearly a "go with the flow" type to the extreme, so even his occasional slights towards Byrne and collaborator/producer Brian Eno seem like afterthoughts. However, this lack of gossip is made up for by the fantastic stories Frantz relates about the CBGB era of the New York art/music scene: seeing Patti Smith play for the first time, opening for the Ramones and Television, drinking scotch with Iggy Pop, David Bowie stealing their peanuts, and eating ice cream and pancakes with Lou Reed at 4am.
While this book may not have been the tell-all expose I was expecting, it was a fun read that was made engaging by the clear zest the author has for life. Frantz also mentions offhandedly that Tina Weymouth is also working on a memoir about her life as a woman in music, so I am going to add that to my list of future reads to get another side of the story.
**I was given a copy of this book by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks to St. Martin's Press**
Written with an enthusiastic but clearly amateur zeal, the prose is at turns charming and infuriating as Frantz delves into what must be a near photographic memory, detailing the minutiae of his day to day life recording and touring, down to what everyone had to eat and drink on each particular day back in the 1970s and 80s. While these hyperactive details can get grating at times, the strength of the narrative comes when Frantz is talking about his relationship with his girlfriend and later wife, Talking Heads bassist Tina Weymouth. Frantz is clearly still head over heels for her and their relationship seems very strong, which is amazing given the amount of drugs and partying Frantz describes partaking in throughout the band's career.
Talking Heads fans looking for the juicy details on David Byrne's fractured relationship with his bandmates and the band's breakup may be a bit disappointed. Frantz is clearly a "go with the flow" type to the extreme, so even his occasional slights towards Byrne and collaborator/producer Brian Eno seem like afterthoughts. However, this lack of gossip is made up for by the fantastic stories Frantz relates about the CBGB era of the New York art/music scene: seeing Patti Smith play for the first time, opening for the Ramones and Television, drinking scotch with Iggy Pop, David Bowie stealing their peanuts, and eating ice cream and pancakes with Lou Reed at 4am.
While this book may not have been the tell-all expose I was expecting, it was a fun read that was made engaging by the clear zest the author has for life. Frantz also mentions offhandedly that Tina Weymouth is also working on a memoir about her life as a woman in music, so I am going to add that to my list of future reads to get another side of the story.
**I was given a copy of this book by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks to St. Martin's Press**
August 25, 2020
The reason the book is so odd for me is that I was there, I was at the RISD in 1973 for one week when I was 16 years old. I was at that time the youngest student ever admitted to RISD. And since I also was seduced by Andrea Andi Shapiro, who was Chris's girlfriend for over a year, this was a must-read for me, and of course I found parts of it compelling and am delighted he wrote it.
The reason I've given it one star is that as a professional writer myself, with five published books of poems, three published novels, 50 award-winning syndicated columns, I feel I can say that the book is pretty awful from a prose point of view. No editor? Why not?
And speaking of point of view, it is so painfully from a silver-spoon, self-infatuated pompous rich person, that at times it is unbearable and even worse, downright whiny. If David was so impossible and it was Chris's band, why not get rid of him? I think it is obvious why. Talent cannot be purchased. How many times have the upper-classes used us poor boys and girls for our talent? It seems David was shrewd and sober enough to come out on top.
And, FINALLY I understand the appeal of the Talking Heads. They are a rich-kid rock band when most are poorboy and poor-girl bands. The evaluation of class in this book would be fascinating. I remember all these trust-fund kids in Montpelier Vermont obsessed with the Talking Heads. They had found their voice, a band of their own, which obviously bled over to everyone.
The reason I've given it one star is that as a professional writer myself, with five published books of poems, three published novels, 50 award-winning syndicated columns, I feel I can say that the book is pretty awful from a prose point of view. No editor? Why not?
And speaking of point of view, it is so painfully from a silver-spoon, self-infatuated pompous rich person, that at times it is unbearable and even worse, downright whiny. If David was so impossible and it was Chris's band, why not get rid of him? I think it is obvious why. Talent cannot be purchased. How many times have the upper-classes used us poor boys and girls for our talent? It seems David was shrewd and sober enough to come out on top.
And, FINALLY I understand the appeal of the Talking Heads. They are a rich-kid rock band when most are poorboy and poor-girl bands. The evaluation of class in this book would be fascinating. I remember all these trust-fund kids in Montpelier Vermont obsessed with the Talking Heads. They had found their voice, a band of their own, which obviously bled over to everyone.
July 28, 2022
fuck ok. talking heads is my fAVORITE band to the point where ive considered getting a tattoo that is a thinly hidden reference to love—->building on fire.
my opinion on chris frantz as a person has definitely changed for the worse after reading this. my worst complaint isnt even about the writing (which sounds like a middle school diary and not in a nice accessible unpretentious way more like in a holy shit who edited this way) its about the fact that a lot of this is just….mean and self congratulatory. i wish tina weymouth had written this instead. frantz spends his time complimenting his wife (good!!) while at the turn of the page objectifying another woman for no good reason (terrible!!) add in a weirdly many sentences that border on transphobic and just idk… better to not know ur idols i guess. also i believe davis byrne was probably a hard person to work with let alone tour with but the amount of absolute pettiness towards him rubbed me the wrong way. theres criticism that is wholly valid and then there is punching down just to make yourself look better and this is the latter. and i want honesty from a memoir so in some ways im glad he didnt hold back but on top of everything else it just felt like an undeserved soapbox to air out a grudge. mostly this is a book about the rise of a band and the 70s and new york and california and punk and new wave and yet! somehow it stayed boring the whole way through! interesting tidbits but overall missed the mark.
my opinion on chris frantz as a person has definitely changed for the worse after reading this. my worst complaint isnt even about the writing (which sounds like a middle school diary and not in a nice accessible unpretentious way more like in a holy shit who edited this way) its about the fact that a lot of this is just….mean and self congratulatory. i wish tina weymouth had written this instead. frantz spends his time complimenting his wife (good!!) while at the turn of the page objectifying another woman for no good reason (terrible!!) add in a weirdly many sentences that border on transphobic and just idk… better to not know ur idols i guess. also i believe davis byrne was probably a hard person to work with let alone tour with but the amount of absolute pettiness towards him rubbed me the wrong way. theres criticism that is wholly valid and then there is punching down just to make yourself look better and this is the latter. and i want honesty from a memoir so in some ways im glad he didnt hold back but on top of everything else it just felt like an undeserved soapbox to air out a grudge. mostly this is a book about the rise of a band and the 70s and new york and california and punk and new wave and yet! somehow it stayed boring the whole way through! interesting tidbits but overall missed the mark.
May 11, 2021
Man, I don’t think I’m going to be able to finish this one. I love Talking Heads and Tom Tom Club. I frequently watch old live performances on YouTube, have most of their vinyl, and idolize Tina Weymouth as I was once a young female bass player.
I am so bored reading this book!!!!
I have it on audio and even with Chris himself reading it is a snoozefest. He goes into detail of what feels like every. single. show. they ever played. Every single train they rode. Every single suite they stayed in. Even what food they ate. I went to Europe 2 years ago and I can’t remember the details as well as he can recall them from 48 years ago! He says “cool” in a really weird way, which makes it stand out that he says the word “cool” every 2 or 3 minutes.
I guess it’s better to find out your rock idols are boring than to discover they’re assholes right?
I hate writing this bad review, as Chris seems like a super nice guy, but if he had an editor they screwed the pooch on this one. Chris may have been a fantastic drummer, and was a part of a unique and revolutionary sound, but what he is not is a good author. Lots of boring details and no substance. Seriously, 400 pages?! Nearly 16 hours!! DNF @ 65%
I am so bored reading this book!!!!
I have it on audio and even with Chris himself reading it is a snoozefest. He goes into detail of what feels like every. single. show. they ever played. Every single train they rode. Every single suite they stayed in. Even what food they ate. I went to Europe 2 years ago and I can’t remember the details as well as he can recall them from 48 years ago! He says “cool” in a really weird way, which makes it stand out that he says the word “cool” every 2 or 3 minutes.
I guess it’s better to find out your rock idols are boring than to discover they’re assholes right?
I hate writing this bad review, as Chris seems like a super nice guy, but if he had an editor they screwed the pooch on this one. Chris may have been a fantastic drummer, and was a part of a unique and revolutionary sound, but what he is not is a good author. Lots of boring details and no substance. Seriously, 400 pages?! Nearly 16 hours!! DNF @ 65%
November 21, 2021
I made it to the end of REMAIN IN LOVE, but I feel cold. Frantz's stories of his youth and the band's very early years are entertaining, but he's a mediocre writer and runs thorough small details of Talking Heads tours while leaving out major aspects of the band (like almost everything about Jerry Harrison - Frantz also seems to have tuned out of their music after REMAIN IN LIGHT, apart from claiming that Byrne had little to do with its better aspects.) It seems like Byrne and Frantz/Weymouth had begun hating each other by 1979, and while Frantz has some very serious criticisms of Byrne (like claiming sole songwriting credit and publishing royalties on songs other band members co-wrote), there's a lot of petty bitterness. Frantz mentions his serious, years-long drug problem but devotes less than a page to it. Even Weymouth is written as an idealized saint. Most of this may be true, but I'd like to hear David Byrne's side. Frantz wrote this book to score points. I'd rather read a vivid tale of playing in the greatest bands in rock music history.
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