Talking Heads is one of my favorite bands of all time, but I try to avoid their personal lives when it comes to their band because it really sours the reputation of all involved. They are certainly not the worst rock stars out there personality wise, but it can be rough. Luckily, their fantastic music and eccentric personalities always shined first and foremost. Not here, though. This album puts their inner turmoil front and center, making it known to the listener that David Byrne is NOT here, and they don't need him. But frankly, after listening to the whole, nearly hour long experience, it is pretty obvious that the group still needs their talker. There are slight bits of funk, but the whole album screams 90s identity crisis, and while some features make the band their own, looking at you Andy, others sound so off here you question how the connection even came to be. The whole album is needlessly angsty, and while there are some great moments (hi again, Andy) there is enough here to definitively say this isn't Talking Heads showing they don't need Byrne, but instead exactly showing why they had him in the first place. Without the context the album is okay, but with it this album is just a spiral of emotions in one mixed bag of a record. 2.5, rounding up to a 3 star.