Last year, the Broadway musical “American Utopia” charmed audiences. Spike Lee signed on to direct the film version. Amy Schumer became such a groupie, she saw it six times and made Jennifer Lawrence and Phoebe Waller-Bridge attend with her. Fans raved about the optimism of David Byrne’s feel-good show.
However, a former bandmate told The Post that Byrne made his colleagues in Talking Heads feel anything but good. “Talking Heads was a group effort and David was the front person . . . but there was a vast network [behind him],” said drummer Chris Frantz, whose memoir “Remain in Love: Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Tina” (St. Martin’s Press), is out Tuesday. “As far as I know, he never acknowledged that.”
And, Frantz writes, things only got worse over time: “It seemed that the more successful Talking Heads became, the more cold and dyspeptic David became.”
The band formed in 1974 at the Rhode Island School of Design, quickly writing their signature song “Psycho Killer.” Frantz recalled how he and bassist Tina Weymouth, who would become his wife, played key roles in crafting the lyrics, with Weymouth adding the iconic “qu’est-ce que c’est” line.
“Nobody knows these anecdotes,” said Frantz, “because David won’t tell anyone.”
Frantz writes about Byrne attributing tunes from the album “Remain in Light” to David Byrne, producer Brian Eno and Talking Heads, without naming his bandmates, and taking sole songwriting credit for the classic song “Life During Wartime,” even though, Frantz writes, it “began as a jam between Tina and me . . . David couldn’t acknowledge where he stopped and other people began.”
Talking Heads made its debut at the East Village club CBGB in 1975 and soon grew a following. But while recording demos, Byrne tried to make Weymouth re-audition as bassist. She refused, and Frantz writes how Byrne told a producer, “I’m thinking of kicking Tina out of the band . . .” The power plays didn’t stop there.
On tour in Germany in 1979, Byrne insisted on doing interviews separately from the others. “When it was time for [the rest of] us to be interviewed, this reporter asked, ‘What are you going to do now that David Byrne is leaving the band?’ ” recounted Frantz. “We had no idea what he was talking about.” Byrne had apparently said he would be going solo, although it didn’t happen for several years. (Requests for comment were not returned by Byrne’s representative.)
“David told me on more than one occasion that he was jealous of Tina and I . . . of what he perceived to be advantages that we had in life,” Frantz said. “He perceived us as having more wealth [growing up], which we did not. His version of his life is a little bit skewed.”
Frantz attributes at least some of Talking Heads’ success to drug use. “Tina was never a big drug person,” Frantz said. “But the rest of us . . . helped ourselves to the generosity of friends and sometimes went out of our way to buy [drugs]. Sometimes I wonder if we would have been able to accomplish what we did if we did not have cocaine in our locker.”
Although the band had its only Top 10 hit, “Burning Down the House,” in 1983, a slow death spiral began the next year during an outdoor festival in New Zealand. “Four or five songs in, David walked off [stage] and everyone stared at me,” said Frantz. “I chased him down — and his excuse was that he didn’t want to play any more shows where people are standing in the mud. There was no mud, and I got him to finish the set. We [attended] a party afterward, but the party was sad. Everyone got the message.”
It was the final show on what proved to be Talking Heads’ last tour. After a hiatus, the band officially broke up in ’91.
Today, Frantz wants to be remembered for being as integral to Talking Heads as Byrne had been. “We were one of the greatest bands of all time,” he said. “And every person on stage was a star.”