My darling husband is a huge fan of a certain gentleman named David Byrne. You might have heard of his band, Talking Heads? “Burning Down the House”, “And She Was”, yes no?
Well, if you’re like me, you thought that was all there was to them. Turns out I was wrong. Dead wrong. David Byrne is a musical madman. No joke. This guy loves music and loves messing with it, creating it, performing it. He’s AHMAZING. And one day, while Darling Husband was on one of his “blow up your TV”* kicks, he had on his iPod and a gorgeous, flowing melody is filling my living room.
I turned to him. “What the hell is that?”
“You are shitting me. Talking Heads’ David Byrne? Big Suit himself?”
I dove for the iPod to see what exactly what was going on. And I discovered one of my all time favorite pieces of music:
Au Fond du Temple Saint, from Bizet.
I have the lyrics memorized in French and I can tell you what they are singing about. Other people have done this song, Pavarotti for one. But his voice is too strong for the sweet melody and gentle strings in the back. He eats the song. Mr. Byrne’s voice, along with Rufus Wainwright, have just the right kind of power and sensuality to treat the song with the respect due it’s sound and meaning.
And out of my listening today came a most amazing line in my WIP:
She laid her hand over his, nestling into the feeling of security and tenderness. “I have no defense against you, Killian. I melt when I see you. My walls are crumbling around me as you stand there and tell me I can have the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
* a John Denver reference, if you’re paying attention.