Or at least They Might Be Giants are titans of a certain cross-section of musical spheres that includes New Wave power pop, college radio quirky-rock, and unlikely children’s music superstardom. The core duo of John Linnell and John Flansburgh have been making music since 1982 (this is the 30th anniversary of their breakthrough album “Lincoln”), expanded to a full band in the mid-1990s, and have remained remarkably consistent, with catchy earworm melodies conveying often dark and surreal stories.
A lot of bands who have been around for 30 years get referred to as legacy bands —
I prefer legacy bands to “oldies act!” But yeah, we just made our 20th album. It seems kind of insane to me. It is very odd that we’ve been kind of monolithically working this strange musical mine for so long. When we started, I think we felt like we hit on something really interesting, working with memory and ultra-vivid imagery, and not worrying about being taking too seriously or being thought of us too strange.
Our heads were very turned around by the punk rock/New Wave moment of 1977. John had been in a power-pop band. The idea of a short and powerful pop song had tremendous currency when we started. Television had great songs, and Blondie had great songs. We were still really responding to that. We started in 1982, so it wasn’t that long after that explosion. People describe us as this weird, out-of-left-field thing, but I feel like we’re the last New Wave band to make it.
When you see one of your shows, you could play anything off those 20 albums, and it’s all cohesive. That’s not true of a lot of bands who have been creatively active for that long.
I guess that’s true. I hadn’t thought about that. We surf very freely. We have two songs in the show right now that are less than a month old. And we play songs that we made for an EP in 1987. And the new stuff gets a shockingly big response. This new song we have, “The Communists Have The Music,” people really dig it.