Intro

Sure, new wave built its reputation on cool detachment and stylish distance. But the genre was just as capable of turning inward. Beyond literal references, many songs explored home—not as a physical space, but as something more fluid: acceptance, identity, performance, even chaos. Across these tracks, “home” becomes something to discover, negotiate, escape, and ultimately understand. What emerges isn’t a single definition, but a series of answers to the same question: what does it really mean to feel at home?

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This Must Be The Place (Talking Heads)

One of Talking Heads’ strengths is their curiosity about the metaphysical, like in the midlife crisis track Once in a Lifetime. But they could also go positive, like in the creative renaissance of Found a Job. With This Must Be the Place, David Byrne is happy to be home, where he can begin to thrive and feel accepted. But the twist is that he didn’t travel anywhere - where he was became a home through his growing romantic love for someone. She was the key that unlocked this. Howard Jones explored a similar internal idea in Hide and Seek. But Byrne’s version is warmer, less philosophical - almost accidental in its clarity. Credit to him for slowing down his vocals while keeping his trademark nervousness. This has the effect of expressing contentment while preserving vulnerability. And yes, the simpler, higher-pitched instrumentation make the melody sound childlike and naive, but it also exudes positivity to drive home Byrne’s epiphany. And the song has a chance to breathe, allowing you to absorb its message better.

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Respectable Street (XTC)

Suburbia in music and pop culture is often portrayed as fake and deceiving, and XTC’s Respectable Street is a prime example. Andy Partridge describes hedges and shiny cars as, well, respectable. But this is alternated with unsavory actions, like dressing and acting their Sunday best hours after throwing up on each others’ lawns. There’s other examples of using a home for their props in the service of carefully managing an image, rather than actual comfort. Respectability is less a state of being than something rehearsed. In that sense, “home” isn’t where you relax - it’s where you perform. The vocal delivery in Respectable Street is classic Partridge, with just enough sarcasm to deliver his irony without sounding bitter (also done well on Generals and Majors). Quick changes in his vocal dynamics (e.g. selective shouting and stuttering) play to his strength and make it catchy. And Dave Gregory’s angular, off-kilter guitars are in full force, hinting that something is off with this suburb, despite its immaculate cleanliness or orderliness. And Terry Chamber’s punchy drums keep you involved in the story.

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On Any Other Day (the Police)

Home can sometimes be a nexus of frenzy, as evidenced in the Police’s On Any Other Day. A vulgarity a few seconds in quickly sets the tone of the song. Then Andy Summers speeds up his faux-reggae stylings to start the chaos. Sting wisely cedes the lead vocals to Copeland, who’s known for his frantic, exaggerated delivery. Copeland rapid-fires everything going wrong on his home - his wife is cheating on him and his daughter ran away. But being specialists at tempering heaviness with humor, the Police juxtaposes these with much lighter issues, like breakfast being burnt. It makes the craziness palatable, but it also highlights how quickly domestic life can swing from trivial annoyance to emotional overload. And once all this chaos is piled high, Sting, better at expressing angst, delivers “It would be ok on any other day”. Home is now a game of Russian Roulette - we don’t know which straw will break the narrator’s back. Indeed, this home is the polar opposite of stability.

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His House Her Home(Squeeze)

Sometimes home needs to be earned. Squeeze, already experienced with crafting vivid domestic tales (think Up the Junction), tackles this in His House Her Home. The song briefly implies cheating (firmly in Squeeze’s wheelhouse). But it’s revealed that Difford is living with a widow with child. He has a roof over his head, but it’s not yet his home. What comes next is a heart-tugging vignette of him earning his place in the house, complete with sharing cartoons with her son, and showing his mother that love is possible after loss. What makes the song resonate is its restraint. Unlike This Must Be the Place, the narrator’s house becomes home incrementally, through patience and shared moments. And while Squeeze were criticized for sounding knackered on Sweets From a Stranger, their weariness actually helps out His House. Difford, known for his wry and sometimes ominous vocals, instead delivers tenderness. The instrumentation, while highly melodic, shows restraint that would have been difficult during their classic (but hectic) run. Years later, squeeze used the His House playbook on Can of Worms, swapping a widow for a divorcee.

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Steppin' Out (Joe Jackson)

Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson were new wave’s angry young men, the latter delivering jealous vitriol in Is She Really Going Out With Him. Earlier in the month Jackson delivered Hope with his Fury, but that was an overlooked aspect of his ‘80s output. Enter Steppin’ Out: Jackson briefly mentions the darkness in his life, but then implores you to enjoy the energetic city nightlife (supported by its video). But Steppin’ Out isn’t a Movin’ Out moment - unlike Billy Joel, Jackson’s not escaping. Jackson’s asking you to leave home for a bit, so that you can view it with a fresher lens upon return. In this sense, home doesn’t improve through confrontation or change - it improves through perspective. This message of movement for the sake of improvement is reinforced by the synth bassline that conjures imagery of power walking, as well as bright piano riffs. And Jackson mostly delivers his typical vocals, but shows restraint by taking out the acid to aid in convincing you to change.

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Home (Depeche Mode)

Let’s wrap up with an example of home as hope and salvation, courtesy of Depeche Mode’s Martin Gore(!). Finding rebirth after a suicide attempt a couple of years prior, Gore penned Home in this vein. With Alan Wilder gone, Depeche Mode leaned on producer Tim Simenon for a baroque and deliberate (6-minute) arrangement, approaching Cure-levels of goth. This, and Gore’s trademark lyrical gloom (e.g. “heaviest cross ever made”) make Home sound like an ode to despair. But that’s all setup for the chorus, where Gore’s vocals go higher and emphatic. Gore thanks the listeners for giving him an epiphany of where his true home is. He’s so grateful that he equates us as God’s messengers. Finally, he belongs somewhere. Gahan’s ominous baritone serves Depeche Mode’s songs well, but Gore’s range was perfect for Home. Unlike Byrne’s tentative realization in This Must Be The Place, Gore’s understanding of home is hard-won. It arrives not as a surprise, but as a conclusion. The weight of the song makes that resolution feel earned, turning “home” into something closer to acceptance than discovery.

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Outro

In new wave, home was never just a place. Sometimes it was a realization you stumbled into, as with Talking Heads. Sometimes it was something fragile, negotiated, or even chaotic. And sometimes, as Depeche Mode suggests, it was something you only recognize after everything else falls away. Across these songs, home shifts shape constantly—but that’s the point. It isn’t fixed. It’s something you define, lose, question, and, if you’re lucky, finally understand. And sometimes, as we’ll see Thursday, it’s right there in the chaos of everyday life.

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