The party rages on for Talking Heads offshoot Tom Tom Club (so long as Happy Mondays aren't invited), who are bringing their delirious sunshine funk this way. They have a message for David Byrne too, as JIM CARROLLfinds out

ONE CLASSIC BAND with oodles of hits is usually sufficient for most musicians. Getting to the top of the pop tree once, after all, is hard enough to do. In the case of Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth, they first hit the jackpot with Talking Heads and then again with Tom Tom Club.

The first act may have been more celebrated, but the Club have always brought good times, great tunes and funky shows with them. From the release of debut single Wordy Rappinghoodin 1981, it was full-steam ahead for the couple and their bandmates.

Thirty years on, the party is still in full swing and the band visit Dublin’s Vicar Street next week, their first visit to the city since a euphoric show at the old McGonagles’ venue on South Anne Street in 1988.

“The band sound great in rehearsals,” says Frantz. “We’ve a new guitarist from Argentina called Pablo Martin. We’ve also got the people we’ve been working with for 20 years like Bruce Martin and Victoria Clamp, and they’re wonderful players and singers. It’s a smoking hot show, with a lot of energy and great tunes.”

Tom Tom Club's delirious sunshine funk came about because of a desire to do something different to the main gig. The duo had just come off Talking Heads Remain In Lighttour in 1981 and, with the other Heads off doing other pursuits, Frantz and Weymouth decided to follow suit. They got in touch with Island Records boss Chris Blackwell, headed to the Compass Point studios in the Bahamas, where they'd previously recorded two Talking Heads' albums, and started to work.

"Originally, we were supposed to just do the Wordy Rappinghoodsingle, but it quickly became an album. Chris Blackwell realised that a drummer and bass player could drive a band and a hit song.

“A lot of people think it’s the guitarist or lead singer, but Chris understood the value of a good rhythm section from his work with jazz and reggae musicians.” The self-titled debut album was a chance for the pair to show a different musical side, as they immersed themselves in sounds that had nothing to do with the art-rock influences of the CBGB set.

“We were enjoying great success with Talking Heads but that was its own thing and we didn’t want to try to ride on those coat-tails”, says Frantz. “We loved reggae and American r’n’b and dance music with a good beat and the early hip-hop which was coming out of the South Bronx, so we used that as our source of inspiration.” Their self-titled debut album still sounds thrilling.

“There is a joyous sound to that record,” Frantz agrees. “It’s fair to say that we were in a fairly elated state when we made that record. It was a magical time for us, when it seemed that we could do just about anything. We weren’t overly ambitious to have success, but we wanted to do something that would be remembered in the future and have a positive influence. Who knew that 30 years later we’d still be performing those songs?”

Just as Talking Heads had a great record label man in Seymour Stein to steer them, Tom Tom Club were fortunate to have Chris Blackwell in their corner. “Seymour gave Talking Heads its first shot and we owe a lot to Seymour and we still see him and will always be grateful for his enthusiasm. But Chris was the one who did that for Tom Tom Club. He had the foresight to see that a rhythm section like us was capable of making a really cool album and just let us get on with it. Like Seymour, he was a great record man.”

The tours that followed were memorable. "We were fortunate with our timing because Talking Heads were all over MTV and the radio so the clubs we played in were packed with happy people. I remember The Edge coming to that McGonagles show in Dublin, for instance. It felt like anything was possible." Tom Tom Club's success saw Frantz and Weymouth getting calls about production gigs. One of their first clients were Happy Mondays, who turned to the pair to produce their infamous Yes, Please!album.

“I got my first grey hairs working with the Happy Mondays,” says Frantz with a wry chuckle. “Had Tina and I been different people, we’d have quit after the first day in Barbados because it was obvious that the band was in no state to make a recording. They’d nothing written, it was a complete mess.

“While we knew the Happy Mondays and their music, we had no idea of their reputation when we took the job.” They tried in vain to get Factory Records’ boss Tony Wilson to sort things out. “We were on the phone to Tony several times trying to get him to get Shaun Ryder into rehab . . . It was hell from a production point of view. We were lucky to have got the record done at all. Tony, bless his heart, found it hard to say no to them and between that record and New Order in Ibiza, it brought down Factory Records.

“The British seem to really enjoy a fucked-up artist. They like their artists to be intoxicated and strung out and dirty and out of control. They have a romantic idea about artists and I can understand that. But when you’re dealing with it face to face, it’s not a pretty picture at all.” They learned some valuable lessons from their time with the Mondays. “We got much more picky about the gigs we said yes to after that.

“The next record we did was with Shirley Mansun, who was a dream to work with by comparison.”

These days, Frantz is glad to have survived the slings and arrows of his chosen career, unlike many of the others from the old days. “We went to the annual Joey Ramone birthday bash in May and you see a lot of old friends at these events. Richard Lloyd from Television played, for example, and Joey’s brother Mitch put it all together with lots of people from those days performing.

“It’s great to see everybody, but it also reminds you that so many people are already gone. . . I do wax nostalgic for those old times because they were magical. Nobody worried about the economy or going to gym and working out or their pension.”

Talking Heads ceased to be in 1991, when David Byrne quit the fold. They played together in 2002 at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but that’s been the extent of any reunion to date. It’s unlikely to happen, but Frantz is cerainly up for it. “Tina, Jerry and I would love to do something else with Talking Heads, even if it was just a tour to play some of the great songs we wrote. There’s just one person, and I think you know who that is, who doesn’t want to do it. If he ever changes his mind and wants to do something, we’ll be right there. You’d have to be crazy not to want to work with Talking Heads.”

Tom Tom Club play Dublin’s Vicar Street on July 22