The story of the Talking Light piece is basically that of an older man who questions, not only decisions he made as a teenager, but also if the events he remembers from that time happened at all. "A dead infant clutching a ring with an inscription the teenager cannot read" is the stuff of dreams. The following stories in the show may or may not shed light on the inscription. Questions remain unanswered. The Residents study death, not as a horrific end, but as the ultimate question that we all ask while wondering if any of it is even real.


THE RESIDENTS' TALKING LIGHT

"What are ghosts" ask The Residents - spirits of those no longer inhabiting the flesh, but unable to leave their lives behind? Or could ghosts be a manifestation of something even less tangible, like loneliness, unfulfilled desire or isolation? In a world where nearly everything has become defined and categorized, how do we fill our obvious, purely human need for the fuzzy, vague and supernatural - with TV commercials?

The ghost of a morbidly obese woman haunts her lesbian lover, filling the void of death with food commercials and Dr. Phil. A man becomes obsessed by the spirit of an executed serial killer who stuffed the mouths of his victims with Pudding Roll Ups, an extinct kid's food from the 1980's. A dead boa constrictor named Leonard (after Leonard Cohen, of course) plagues the mind of its former owner, currently consuming Oscar Meyer hot dogs by the dozen. These are just a few of the "ghost stories" told through the magic of The Residents' Talking Light.

After all, even in death, will you ever forget that COCA COLA ADDS LIFE?

After years of finely crafted shows, The Residents have decided to almost literally give the public a view into how they work and what they actually sound like removed from the studio. The homey fireplace and sofa set is exactly what they say it is, an attempt at opening their world to an audience. The performers are not some mysterious entities but just some good natured dudes named Randy, Chuck and Bob who like to get together to make noise once in a while. But is that yet another illusion?

The single most important sentence spoken during the show is so casually tossed off that many people probably miss it entirely... " The mirror has two sides." That fabulous mirror, the looking glass through with we all view the world.

Randy is telling the audience in only slightly coded words that The Residents reflect the audience but they also reflect themselves. The show is a duality for them, a battlefront/coalition between the audience and the performer. The mirror changes who The Residents are. The audience also has to change as Randy holds the mirror out toward them.

What about the actors in this subtle drama? Bob, we know. He has appeared before in Demons Dance Alone as he tells the story of "Tongue." Bob is quiet, internal. Chuck? Cutting and chucking, the god of editing. Randy, frivolously sexual with his phallic nose, strutting about in his underwear as though advertising his wares for any taker. And retired Carlos, the irresistible Hispanic stud. Star of Tweedles? Randy pretends to be sad about Carlos' leaving but ultimately derides his drumming taste and ultimately comes clean with a big "fuck Carlos." We are left wondering if Carlos retired on his own or was forced out. The loss of Carlos is treated with great humor. But is the fourth guy really gone? Was Carlos even ever there? The Residents resonate with ideas and will go to great lengths to assure the viewer that it is the idea that is the pot of gold and that the rest is only the rainbow pointing there. We are forced to accept the results without comprehending the path they used to get there. We can truly never separate the theatrics from the realities.

These are characters though, not to be confused with The Residents. The Residents is not a musical trio but a group of specialized talents that revolve around a concept. The performing characters are painted as a series of archetypes. Each is master of a domain as truly as left, center, and right can be.

What is Talking Light about? Some say it is about growing old and dying. Some say it is because The Residents are getting old and recognize their mortality. The Residents are no more getting old than we all are. Aging and death is one of the true universal experiences. The line that separates the living and the dying is not age, it is found in the power we exert in our daily life. The Residents while toying with the ideas of age and death prove by their presence on the stage that they are not close to death at all. In fact there is a sense of "fuck you" about the performance that defies the dramatic and tragic idea of death.

I think Talking Light is about living, not dying. The "Talking Light" story concerns the death of a child, not an old man. The ring with the incomplete message acknowledges the circle of life and the missing parts of the inscription that might make sense if only we could tell what it says. But we can't make sense of it, because we are not supposed to understand for the simple reason that we are alive, in the moment.

What does the future hold for this group? I find it hard to imagine that The Residents are just going back to business as usual. One Resident is gone, only three remain. With that loss, the remaining artists forsake the anonymity of earlier times offering names, personalities, and specific responsibilities. This is almost a reversal of their previous stance. The door opens for a wider presence. Do I dare to suggest solo projects? How far are we from the made-for-TV movie? Will they host SNL? And at the same time, even if they do these things, will it be real or just another facade, another piece of social satire on American life, only bolder and more confusing than ever?

The Residents are on the prowl again. Do not try to dismiss them as old people at the end of their creative lives. If anything, this latest reinvention only suggests that they are indeed trying for the golden anniversary that is only twelve years away. This is not the guys in eyeballs. They are more approachable than that, but at the same time a bit more frightening. It is like they have seen through the eyeballs and are in possession of newly found wisdom. The hidden boldness now changes into an open introspection. Two sides of the mirror. The people in the back are safe, but I'm not so sure about you and I who are sitting in the front.

- Big Brother - February 20, 2010

The normal business cycle calls for a band to record an album, then to tour in support of it. But if nothing else, The Residents love to experiment, often perversely defying convention. Consequently, during a time when little interest is being paid to CDs, the idea of developing a touring show without the restriction of promoting an album made perfect sense. This time the group could just play whatever they wanted instead of a predetermined show. It would be fun - and it was.

But after forty or so performances, The Residents started wondering: what would the album that "might have been" sound like? ...and they begin to imagine the fictitious album they would be supporting - had they actually recorded one. As usual with Randy, Chuck & Bob, imagination quickly leads to action, and, in a short time this action produced the curious, Lonely Teenager.

Featuring pieces that were performed in the show as well as others that were considered but ultimately rejected, Lonely Teenager is "the studio album that might have been." Benefiting hugely from the Talking Light tour, the CD also includes additional tunes featuring new arrangements of Lizard Lady (from Duck Stab Re-Imagined sessions) and The Bunny Boy's Boxes of Armageddon.

The special version sold on tour contained a bonus track: a unique rehearsal version of The Unseen Sister from October of 2009.