Talking Heads were active as an independent pop rock band from 1975-1991. They became world famous in the 80’s, the era of Music Television (MTV), with numerous danceable and singable hits that still get heavy radio play today. A big part of that fame were the whispery to soaring vocal sounds and quirky, herky-jerky dance moves of tall, angular, and gangly frontman, lead singer, guitar player, and co-songwriter, David Byrne, Spoiler alert, he’s also a bicyclist! This post is not a literary critique, but some random thoughts about his book. But stick with me, because as Byrne sings in the “Burning Down the House” lyrics: “Watch out, you might get what you’re after.” One thing is for sure: it’s doubtful such a multi-talented dude is being honest when he sings, “I’m an ordinary guy.”

According to Wikipedia, his awards include: Academy, Grammy, and Golden Globe Awards (all for his soundtrack to the film The Last Emperor), a Special Tony Award (for his celebrated Broadway musical American Utopia), and he is an inductee to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as part of Talking Heads. Since the band called it quits, he has continued making music, acted in some movies, became a visual artist of some note, and done lost of other stuff like opera. In 2009, he added author to his creative portfolio.

Now 71, he was in his mid-50’s at the time he wrote the book. He’s still creating and yes, he’s biking; he arrived at the 2023 Met Gala in an all white suit. For a creative guy, his book shows another facet to the man: thoughtful observer of cities, cultures, and humans moving through them–including himself. From the seat of his folding bicycle that he’s taken all around the world, he’s an astute commenter in this part memoir, part collection of travel stories, and part declaration. The bicycle works to get him around to many places and a vantage point from which to view things in a different way than a typical tourist might from a car, bus, train, or even walking.

Leaping around from Sydney, London, Manila, Austin, San Francisco, and his adopted home town of New York (who knew he was born in Scotland?) the picture he paints is vivid, one of humans versus machines, buildings, natural forces, and of course, other humans. There are themes, though, and a thread of continuity, but sometimes the anecdotes and asides seem random or stream of consciousness, which was fine for me (to wit; this post), but others may not care for it. There’s certainly plenty of material that editors had him leave out.

The idea for writing came about because he had taken the bike with him on tour with him, so he saw foreign cities up close and personal. He had been journalling his thoughts about what he saw, and that became a blog, and then a book. I’d heard of but never got around to reading it, but then I recently stumbled across it in one of the many Little Free Libraries that dot Austin neighborhoods. Like my own bicycling, I’m slow getting to the party (I’m rarely if ever invited to parties anymore, anyways), but I get there eventually. A decade and a half later, the book holds up; he has an interesting thoughts on cities, transportation, culture, art, and much more.

As Byrne says, it’s not so much a book about bicycles. Although he begins and ends with stories about them, and intersperses the chapters with bike-related asides, this might disappoint the reading cyclist hoping for juicy leads on great trails in other countries. It’s not a travel book, either. But when he is discussing what it’s like to ride a bike in another country, it feels familiar and genuine to this cyclist reader. He’s not out there for show, or doing big rides, and he’s not a casual cyclist, either. He’s taking you along for the ride, but also giving you a look into his mind by sharing what he thinks. Yet there are practical pointers and enough to keep the reader engaged, cyclist or not.

Byrne writes in a voice that shows a lot of curiosity, in people, places, and things, and how they shape other. He makes plenty of cultural references, some of which I got, others I did not. Sometimes, his humor, wit, and anger comes through. One of the nice things that struck me is how unpretentious he is. When he is talking, heads turn, surely. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist the word play.) The book is not about him being a star and how cool that is and so on. Sure, he’s meeting well-known artists, musicians, and others based on his connections, but Byrne is not out to impress anyone.

Certainly, while traveling he had many privileges fame and fortune brought, but when you’re biking and not taking a limo, hee comes off as a regular guy. He wants to educate himself, ask questions, and get the reader to wonder, too. For example, why ARE there so many cities that are friendly to cyclists in other parts of the world, but not so much in the United States? And he doesn’t pretend to have the answers to everything, either. That’s refreshing. At times he could be a bit judgy, or maybe a bit too idealistic about cars sharing the road and, that’s okay too. Who am I to judge someoe for being judgy? But if one follows his thoughts and logic, the points he makes about making cycling safer and accessible weren’t too controversial; maybe they were back in 2009. And the people who are 100% in the cars-only camp disagree, and he knows this.

One important thing that is about bicycling which I took away from the book is that engaging with policy makers and the public can be educational, but it must also be fun to appeal to people. He describes an event he dreamed up, whereby various aspects of the cycling community(ies) in New York came together to talk about how it could be better, safer, and more accessible. But he made sure to have music, video, a Latino crew of tricked out bikes, and the like. Although he doesn’t consider himself an cycling advocate per se, but de facto he kind of is. So, his point about engaging people from the heart, about the liberation, joy, and fun that comes with cycling, is a well-made key point for advocates to remember.

I was sorry when this book ended; I wanted to hear more. The book at times felt disjointed, more like vignettes, as he jumped around in time. Sometimes I felt like a sentence should have been a whole story; that was probably due to the book being structured with names of cities being the chapter titles, and for brevity. Or on occasion it would have been nice for him to answer some of his ow questions or at least give his suggestion for a solution. But these are minor annoyances; we’re lucky that one of great creative minds, performers, artists, and all around cool guy also happens to be a cyclist.

Since 2009, the times have changed regarding mainstream acceptance (by car drivers) of cycling and the people who do it for transportation especially. He mentions some predictions on things like collapsible helmets, talks about the need for separate protected bike lanes, and explores how climate change will require cities to reduce emissions and make cycling more attractive for young and old alike. It turns out there was enough cycling material to hold my interest. But have they changed enough? Sadly, no.

In the end, David Byrne’s Bicycle Diaries is a fun, interesting, entertaining, educational, and though-provoking work. Although it’s probably better appreciated by bike riders, it is approachable for those who’ve never ridden a bike. Still available to buy online new or used and probably check out from your local library. If you go get it from the latter, please just try to bike over to check it out instead of drive a car if you can. After all, WWBD? What would David Byrne do?

We're on a road to nowhere
Come on inside
Taking that ride to nowhere
We'll take that ride
I'm feeling okay this morning
And you know
We're on the road to paradise
Here we go, here we go

-from Road to Nowhere, lyrics by David Byrne, Copyright Talking Heads

---

Copyright 2024 A Dude Abikes. All rights reserved. Shortlink to this post.