The manner in which R.E.M. broke up earlier this year has yet to cease shocking and amazing me but, more to the point, it horrifies me beyond belief. It's the music nerd equivalent to the existential crisis that is watching one of your parents die peacefully after a long and happy life. As opposed to the usual acrimony that is a band's breakup, this is not the long and drawn out divorce that takes place long after the homefires have cooled and the knives have been drawn. Even in the face of diminishing sales, we always assume that our most beloved of bands will simply fade into the ether at some point, returning only to release a new album once or twice a decade before they trot out "Satisfaction" for the umpteenth time on the road.
The truth is, it never even occurred to me that bands can amicably shake hands, call it a day and have dinner later without the impetus of a business disguised as music. It's a gutsy thing, to be sure, and all the more daring because it doesn't involve holding out to the last breath when nobody cares and everybody hates each other. But more than that, it sets a troubling precedent for this fan who likes a number of bands with longer careers behind them than in front. One can only imagine that U2 is somewhere in Dublin releasing a huge sigh of relief.
"That's it," Larry Mullen is exclaiming as he wipes the sweat from his brow, "They've done it. We can quit now!"
Admittedly, R.E.M. failed to pack the punch they used to both commercially and creatively. But even their duff albums had more gems than most and it's a sad reality now that I can no longer look forward to discovering them. As sad as I feel about this, the far reaching implications are even more grim. R.E.M. paved a number of paths in their career. People forget that they're the band that made it cool to be indie, made it okay to sell out and made sense out of touring only when they wanted to. Now, they're the band that have made it okay to call it a day for no reason other than wanting to. Could U2, who have blazed a very parallel path, be far behind? Could Radiohead and Pearl Jam, both bands that took notes on the self determination of the Athens Four, also see the point in calling it quits? As a music fan who came of age in the Alternative market boom, R.E.M.'s retirement looms apocalyptically large over my record collection.
As a lovely parting gift, however, they've left us with Part Lies Part Heart Part Truth Part Garbage 1982-2011. It spans forty tracks, thirty-seven of which have been previously released and three that have not. It follows them from their independent days at I.R.S. to their last hurrahs at Warner Bros. And as hard as it is to sum up their career succinctly, seeing the YouTube promo alone gave me hope. All the familiar guitar riffs, drum fills and hooks are there with the appropriately iconic imagery. As such, the respective collection turns out to be a well rounded look back at a career full of hits, near misses and left turns.
What follows are forty thoughts for forty songs. Numbers respectively represent tracklisting placement and disc one or two.
Part Lies
7/1. "Driver 8" - Fables of the Reconstruction has long been reputed to be an album of Southern legends. Recorded in London by a homesick R.E.M., this song proves it to be less Dixie mythology and more the sound of a band lost at sea.
9/1. "Begin the Begin" - Singing "the insurgency began and you missed it," Stipe may as well have been addressing audiences which were beginning to swell beyond their college demographic. Truth was, with producer Don Gehman's mainstream studio polish, the insurgency was just beginning.
10/1. "Fall on Me" - Accompanied by a video in heavy rotation, this was often credited as the first big environmental song. This is most likely apocryphal, even if global warming is just the new acid rain.
11/1. "Finest Worksong" - Known mainly for the jangly sound of his early playing, Peter Buck turned in a heroic punk rock effort with the neo-liberal angst that filled Document. As manifestos go, few bands could do better and this was the first shot fired across the boughs.
13/1. "The One I Love" - Proving that people don't actually listen to lyrics, this was a wedding reception staple for years. I'm guessing they missed that part where Stipe refers to his love as "a simple prop to occupy my time." Or maybe people did listen to they lyrics, you never know.
18/1. "Losing My Religion" - Universally misunderstood, conventional wisdom pegged this song as a crisis of faith. Apparently, it's just a southern expression for an infatuation so bad that it seems to test your faith.
19/1. "Country Feedback" - The sour that defines the sweet on R.E.M.'s true mainstream breakthrough, Out of Time. Layered in waves of pedal steel guitar, Stipe's sublime and mellifluous voice rings through with the desperate exasperation of love's failings.
20/1. "Shiny Happy People" - Long since dismissed by the band as a fluffy piece of pop naff, I endured childhood through the Reagan eighties and still refuse to frame it in my mind as anything other than a riposte to such superficial times.
2/2. "Man on the Moon" - Forget the drummer jokes, Bill Berry was a large contributor to R.E.M.'s songwriting process. Both "Man on the Moon" and "Everybody Hurts" were said to be instigated by Berry and his departure in '98 made reinvention essential, not preferable.
9/2. "Imitation of Life" - Imitation of R.E.M. was more like it. Building off of the classic formula set by "the Great Beyond," this was the obvious single for Reveal. In retrospect, the album bore more sonic resemblence to the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds than anything in R.E.M.'s catalog. And as obvious as this single was, there's still a gloriously symphonic beauty to all the electronic bells and whistles added here, especially that low synth sound in the bridge.
Part Heart
3/1. "Talk About the Passion" - Curious after Out of Time and hooked after Automatic for the People, I became obsessed after my best friend in mid-school gave me the I.R.S. retrospective Eponymous. I gorged on it during a visit to my grandparents place not long after. As a result, this song always sounds like traveling through the Ozark countryside of Arkansas to me- it sounds like a distant home.
5/1. "So. Central Rain" - Even though the rest of the song makes little to no sense for me, there's that chorus of "I'm sorry" that comes through clear as day. Like most angst filled teenagers, I'm sure I felt that deeply even without any idea of what I had to be sorry for. Kids.
6/1. "(Don't Go Back to) Rockville" - We used to cover this in one of my old bands years ago. We replaced the honkytonk piano with a dirty Social D sorta guitar sound, so I guess our redneck requirements were met. Which means, for a few years, friends thought we wrote it. I wish.
8/1. "Life and How to Live It" - One Christmas, shortly after Automatic had come out, my brother gave me a copy of Fables of the Reconstruction. Good thing, too, as I'm not sure my high school self would have bought it. And then I would have missed out on this and "Wendell Gee."
1/2. "Everybody Hurts" - Based on the video for this song alone, this song quickly became parody bait. But still, it was a sweet thought from Stipe to generation angst and, lest you forget, John Paul Jones (the bloke from Led Zeppelin that didn't play guitar, sing or die) arranged the strings for this.
3/2. "Nightswimming" - Haunting, beautiful and simple, this song dwells on the threshold of the past. Listening to it always creates a sense of phantom nostalgia for me and I really wish, a band or two ago, we'd learned to cover it.
5/2. "New Test Leper" - This song, which revolves around love, decency and hypocrisy, sums up every anxiety and personal conflict I've ever felt about being religious (or not) that I've felt in thirty plus years. And it does so gorgeously in five and a half minutes.
11/2. "Leaving New York" - An ode to post 9/11 New York City, there's a mournful quality here that recognizes grieving, even in the face of futility. And even more brilliantly, it does so without mentioning 9/11. This song came to me at a time when I really needed it.
13/2. "Supernatural Superserious" - Between those bare Joe Strummer-like guitar chords and Stipe's lyrical waxing, it's too easy to think of this song as the sound of adolescence. But really, it's the sound of how we wished were in adolescence- articulate, heartfelt and hungry.
14/2. "Uberlin" - One of my favorite songs to come out this last year. Period. And I'm very glad they chose to include it here. I'm not sure if the narrator in this song is falling apart from the inside or just needs a nap, but I imagine the sight of his exhausted reflection in the mirror before he heads out into the world for the day.
Part Truth
1/1. "Gardening at Night" - People forget, assuming they knew in the first place, that R.E.M. carried the torch for American music in the eighties. Of course, there was always Bruce, Madonna and Prince but they were the emphatic part of the eighties. R.E.M. was the part that inspired a bazillion garage bands with jangly guitars and poor enunciation. That starts here with this song.
2/1. "Radio Free Europe" - Along with "Gardening at Night," this was the face that launched a thousand ships. More than any other song in their catalog, this brought R.E.M. as close to actual punk as they would ever be. At the same time, this also solidified numerous characteristics that became synonomous with R.E.M.: indecipherable lyrics, Byrds on speed guitars and staccato bass lines.
12/1. "It's the End of the World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine)" - Like every other high schooler who was an R.E.M. fan, I knew every single word of this at one point. It didn't help me in karaoke, though. They had the wrong words! Still, I never change the radio when this comes on.
17/1. "Orange Crush" - Using a call and response vocal attack, they took what could have another one of Green's memorable pop songs and dipped it in menace. This was the end result: an agit pop indictment of the military industrial complex that poisoned its own forces with Agent Orange. Of course, I'm not sure how many people remember that now.
4/2. "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" - I remember the first time I heard a backwards guitar solo. It was in "London Calling" and I found myself wondering what the hell had just happened to my ears. A close friend explained that the guitar solo had been written and then recorded in reverse. That way, when they flipped the recording, it sounded like an underwater missile. Knowing that, I still find myself wondering what's happened to me every time I hear this song and. that. solo.
6/2. "Electrolite" - As the closing song on New Adventures in Hi-Fi, Stipe's last refrain of "I'm outta here" always seemed more cheeky than prophetic (drummer Bill Berry would not return for the next album). Still, that little moment has always been one of my favorite vocal moments ever and was my voice mail greeting for a good year or so.
12/2. "Living Well is the Best Revenge" - After Up's sullen ambience and the midtempo sunshine of Reveal, surely the arrival of Bill Rieflin (of Ministry fame) on Around the Sun meant a rockin' record, right? Well, at least they got there on Accelerate and nowhere was that more apparent than this opening shot. Still a thrill to hear, even amongst all these other hits.
15/2. "Oh My Heart" - Apocalyptic landscapes have long been a recurring theme in Stipe's lyrics. It wasn't until Hurricane Katrina that he had a real one to write about. And he hardly seems fine.
18/2. "We All Go Back to Where We Belong" - A look back filled with memories, dreams and other imaginings. It's unclear if this is simply reminiscence or an actual parting of ways but Stipe's voice is so sweet it hardly matters.
19/2. "Hallelujah" - It would be all too easy to record another version of Leonard Cohen's classic via Jeff Buckley via Rufus Wainwright. Instead, the band throws everything they have (acoustic and electric guitar, strings, Mike Mills' backing vocals and whatever other weird sounds they can find) before one final chorus that soars. "Amen" is more like it.
Part Garbage
4/1. "Sitting Still" - Due, I'm sure, to the numerous qualities they share, this song has always seemed to be eclipsed by "Radio Free Europe." That being said, I still get caught up on that chorus of "Up to par and katie bar."
14/1. "Stand" - I was still a few years away from being a fan when I first heard this and I remember, even then, finding it quite odd. Even at that age, I could recognize something different taking place. By the time they used it as the theme song for a Chris Elliott sitcom, I was devoted. But I still regret it's association with Chris Elliott in my mind.
15/1. "Pop Song 89" - This tests even my love for R.E.M. cheese. It's so embarassingly catchy it makes me uncomfortable. But I guarantee you'll still catch me singing along if I'm not thinking about it.
16/1. "Get Up" - Another one of their unabashed pop songs, this one seems to somehow skirt the cheese factor. I'm not sure if its the way Peter Buck counterbalances his guitar hits against the backing vocals or the deliriously daft chimes in the bridge. Either way, this song has always seemed criminally underrated next other singles off of Green, such as "Stand" or "Orange Crush."
21/1. "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight" - Featuring one of the band's more interesting chord progressions as Stipe apes the classic "Lion Sleeps Tonight." There's talk of black eyed peas, the cat in the hat and a phone booth and... wha...? The sidewinder is a homeless woman?
7/2. "At My Most Beautiful" - Off the incredibly underrated and unfairly maligned Up. Had that album been by a new band, it would have been huge. This is the one song I skip when I listen to that album as it's straighforward arrangement makes it a little out of place on a lo-fi electronic record. But here, it fits in perfectly.
8/2. "The Great Beyond" - A redux of Automatic's "Man on the Moon," this was written for the Andy Kaufman bio-pic of the same name. As such, they straddled the line between Up's ambient beauty and Reveal's sunny melodicism. In doing so, they defined a "classic R.E.M." sound that many found lacking from the rest of their output at the time. To their credit, however, it would have been easy to write a dozen of these every four years and cash in on the tour but the band resisted.
10/2. "Bad Day" - As a throw-away single for their Warner Bros. retrospective In Time, this gave fans hope that the next album would be all furious fists and memorable hooks. Sadly, that was not the case but it was fun for the four minutes that this song lasted.
16/2. "Alligator_Aviator_Autopilot_Antimatter" - One last blast of the whirling dervish word vomit that R.E.M. did so well, with Peaches on the backing vocals no less. If they'd been this much fun on Monster seventeen years prior, I would not be explaining to younger friends why this band is such a treasure.
38/2. "A Month of Saturdays" - Sometimes, the sillier this band is, the more I love them. Their silliest song since "Chance," an Automatic for the People era b-side. When Stipe sings "I wanna take all the Saturdays, I wanna stay up late," I imagine this is the sound of retirement and it sounds like fun.
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