How Music Works
David Byrne knows how music works but
It isn’t because he wrote that book
He proves it one night
On a dark stage
Dwarfed by projections of
Books and bodies
Surrounded by his band
Pecking at his microphone
Like a nervous hen
Chanting
“Home is where I want to be”
With deadpan seriousness
Set to a pulse of melodic joy
A naive melody
But David Byrne is not naive
He knows that joy is a serious business
That you don’t walk out on stage in your street clothes
That if you are going to be wild
You’d better put your suit on
And that night the cameras are rolling
His restrained exuberance
Leaks from his forehead
Curls his stray hair
Superman and Clark Kent at once
Maybe he is here to save us with
Some ancient power he hasn’t shown us yet
Oh here it comes
The song crescendos and his head bobs
Betraying the moment before it arrives
He holsters the microphone
Strolls over to the antique lamp
Tips it down and swoons
Catches it in his arms like a lover
Pulls it towards his embrace
Lets it fall again
And if you look at his face you will see
That David Byrne is finally smiling
Because he knows how music works
He is dancing with the light