Weekly Artist Overview: R.E.M. - Page 2

The band eventually settled on the name R.E.M. by mid-1980, apparantly choosing the name at random after flipping through a dictionary. They also found a manager around this time, Jefferson Holt, who had caught one of their first out-of-state gigs in neighboring North Carolina. Suitably represented, the band began getting gigs in widespread locations throughout the South; most of 1980-1981 was spent playing hundreds of small-venue gigs, often for sparse crowds. It was during this period of intense touring that the band's initial sound began to gel. Peter Buck's guitar developed a uniquely recognizable jangle, which bore rich psychedelic textures that recalled the Byrds among other influences; he also learned an angular and propulsive style of riffing. Stipe, the art major, began writing lyrics that were fragmented and impressionistic; these he'd sing in a low mumble, sometimes almost inaudible next to the instrumentation. In between his turns at the mike, he'd leap about the stage eccentrically; lending a focal point beyond the still-formative music. Mills breathed new life into the bass; his basslines became richly melodic, sometimes his bass served as lead instrument. Berry also had a distinctive style at the drum kit; he made great use of cymbals and other percussion, which together with the others could combine into a fairly complex wall-of-sound despite there only being three musicians playing at a given time.

A sympathetic and enthusiastic producer was found in Mitch Easter, who led his own early jangle-pop band, Let's Active. A debut single, "Radio Free Europe" was recorded at his tiny Drive-In studios in Winston-Salem, NC in 1981. Released on Hibtone Records, only 1,000 copies were pressed; still, word of mouth spread quickly. The song was a rough gem; punchy and punky, with a bass driven tempo and crunchy guitar, plus a completely impossible-to-discern lyric from Stipe, it was a stand-out; both punky and retro simultaneously, it blazed a trail that few knew existed at the time. Largely on the strength of this rare single and the band's relentless touring, R.E.M. had some influential champions around the country by the end of the year, the Village Voice being one of the very first; the band topped a poll of best independant singles of 1981.

This led to considerable interest in the band, and in Spring 1982, the band was signed to I.R.S. records, one of the most prominent indie labels of the day. Their first release was a 5-song EP, Chronic Town, in spring 1982. The EP shows the band in a still very formative stage; while their sound is already distinct, the execution is still green. Nontheless, it was a stunner when it appeared. Leading off with the jaunty "1,000,000", an angular rocker that displayed Buck's first two styles, propulsion and jangle, and Stipe's yowling vocals it is arresting from the first song to the last. "Wolves, Lower" has some of Stipe's most audible early lyrics, and the snatches that catch the ear are unsettlingly paranoid; the song itself is built around a rich harmonic hook. "Gardening At Night" is a big folk ballad with lovely harmonies and rich work from Buck and Mills. "Carnival of Sorts (Boxcars)" is perhaps the key track on the disc, pointing to the textures the band would take on their first album. The lyrics aren't so much inaudible as unbelievable; colorful impressionistic phrases that taken alone mean nothing, but as parts of a whole paint a somewhat claustrophobic picture. Here, the band resembles the New York school of intellectual punk more than the Byrds; the combination of these influences would be made more explicit on their next release.

Murmer, the band's 1983 album debut, was a miracle for those who were lucky enough to know about it at the time. In an era when crass synth-pop dominated the airwaves and MTV had rendered all non-photogenic bands obsolete, here was an album of unfashionable guitar-based folk-rock, with a punk aesthetic yet a respect for tradition. Even Rolling Stone, truly out of it at the time, recognized the album as best of 1983. Murmur is a classic example of a band gaining confidence in themselves and their sound, and restlessly pushing the envelope in many new directions. Nearly every cut has something to recommend it; "Radio Free Europe" reappears in a cleaner, fuller version. "Pilgrimage", which aptly demonstrates Mills' growing role as backing vocalist, is based around an odd time signature and piano/bass riff. "Talk About The Passion" is lush and pretty; Buck's guitar erupting in rainfalls of psychedelic pearls while Stipe waxes elegiac. "Perfect Circle" shows the band experimenting in the studio, combining a grand piano with a deliberately out-of-tune upright, giving the song a stange otherworldliness, while Stipe contributes one of his loveliest wistful vocals. Mitch Easter's production is dead on; clean enough to bring out the textures in the music, but keeping Stipe back in the mix, relegating his voice to fourth instrument status; this kept his odd lyrical concerns cryptic while emphasizing the texture of his voice. "Shaking Through" is a more uptempo rocker with excellent harmonies. There aren't enough superlatives to describe this album; the songs bear a timeless quality reminiscent of the Band's early work. They sound older than they really are, yet they escape any hint of retro or nostalgia. The record ultimately peaked at #36 on the charts.

Murmer's effect on indie rock was profound, influencing a myriad of bands. However, R.E.M.'s next effort, Reckoning, surpassed it in both ambition and execution. Among original fans, Reckoning is usually considered the band's best album (later fans generally prefer Automatic For The People). Reckoning reveals fewer punk moves and more in a garage-rock vein, perhaps due to the extensive touring the band did throughout the year. Once again produced by Mitch Easter, Reckoning stands as the band's lone jangle-pop album, opening with the guitar textures of "Harborcoat" and working its way through 10 flawless songs. "7 Chinese Brothers" is full of guitar chime, as its lyric is adopted from a children's fable. "Time After Time (Annelise)" is a stately piece of updated raga-rock, built upon an Eastern motive that builds into a towering guitar crescendo. "Letter Never Sent" is enigmatic garage rock with punch. "Camera" is one of the band's best early moments, a slow rumination given a clock-like cross-stick snare beat by Berry whil Buck works in minor-key arpeggios and Stipe delivers a solemn, lonely, almost obsessive lyric of world-weary sadness. "(Don't Go Back To) Rockville" is classic country-rock with unusually clear and direct lyrics and a giant hook for a chorus. The single, "So. Central Rain (I'm Sorry)" is one of their most intensely emotional numbers; also in a country vein, but culminating in a firey close. For those who missed Murmer, this album was another good jumping-on point; no R.E.M. album coheres as well as this one. The album peaked at #27, a step in their long march to the top.

It was about this point where the word "phenomenon" came to be tossed about in reference to the band. Their body of work up to this point was extremely original; nobody was quite working the same side of the street. Their instrumental approach was unique; Stipe's idea of a frontman as a guy who lurks back near the drumkit was revelatory, the band's cryptic album art and even more cryptic videos, which resembled film student art movies, lent them an aura of mystery, and their bona-fide indie roots gave them credibility. Many bands began to follow their lead, sonically and imagewise; both the jangle pop and roots rock arenas were forever changed by their appearance. R.E.M. took this responsibility seriously, and went out of their way to champion other bands in interviews and at concerts, as well as getting many of their favorites to open for them. In this sense, the band's influence extended beyond their records; 1985 was a year full of similar sounding bands, many of which had gotten a boost from R.E.M.

Interestingly, the band abruptly changed directions with their next album (which, depending on how you held the jacket, was either called Fables of the Reconstruction or Reconstruction of the Fables). Mitch Easter didn't produce (apparently by friendly agreement), and Joe Boyd was enlisted. Producer of 60's folk-rockers Fairport Convention and Nick Drake, he seemed a natural fit for the band, and his influence is felt troughout the album. Fables of the Reconstruction is a strange record; it is the most steeped in Americana tradition of all their releases, it is also the darkest and most sinister album they ever released. The band was growing tired of their neverending touring, and the tensions are felt in the taut textures on the album. The band's southern obsessions became deeper, more gothic, with dark, frightening imagry hiding beneath the angular surface. Stipe's eccentric behavior was particularly strange at the time, as he shaved his head bald, began wearing multiple layers of clothing, and made odd, cryptic pronouncements at shows. The album is the most overtly psychedelic of the band's career, and it's a tense, edgy psychedelia made manifest in the very first song, "Feeling Gravity's Pull" which builds on wildly discordant guitar noises, breaking only for the buzzed lull of the bridges. "Driver 8" is another country-rock garage band song, a singalong train song on the surface, but as the lyrics reveal themselves the song becomes ominous and foreboding. "Auctioneer (Another Engine)" is a psychedelic nightmare that almost strays into Pere Ubu territory. "Good Advices", a song about travel, is subverted by its own sadness. "Life and How To Live It" is an energetic rabble rouser with some of Stipe's sharpest lyrics, "Green Grow The Rushes" is the token Byrds nod, "Can't Get There From Here" is a ridiculous slab of blue-eyed soul. In total, Fables of the Reconstruction doesn't quite have the consistency of Reckoning. However, it is nearly as good, albeit in a more claustrophobic way. It represented a real change in sound and direction right when people were wondering if they were destined to repeat Reckoning until the break-up. While not quite as successful as its predecessor, reaching an almost-identical #28 on the charts, it earned them critical respect for the chances it took. In retrospect, it also closed out their initial run of flawless releases; diehard early fans often point to the next release as a disappointment.

Life's Rich Pageant, from 1986, saw more changes. Perhaps taking the "roots rock" tag to heart, Don Gehman was enlisted to produce, having worked with mainstream roots rocker John Mellencamp. Gehman's biggest thumbprint was in a general cleaning up of the band's sound; where Stipe had always been buried in the mix, he was now moved out front and center. Buck's guitar was highlighted for its riffs more than its texture; Mills got to sing lead on an obscure garage band cover, "Superman". These changes, coupled with a somewhat weaker-than-usual collection of material was a come-down for many, who were looking for more exploration like Fables, or more jangle like Reckoning. Instead, the band plays a harder rock than they had to date, with "Begin The Begin" and "These Days" relying on guitar crunch, with Stipe literally wailing the lyrics. "Hyena" was a good jangle pop tune, but it was a leftover from the Reckoning days, having been part of their setlist for years. The Southern myths explored on Fables appear on the unspectacular "Swan Song H" while "Flowers of Guatemala" and "Cuyahoga" represented a growing latent politicism in Stipe. It's a patchy record; nothing is really bad on it, but the only real standouts are the anthemic "Fall On Me" and the "Superman" closer. The album's biggest failure is Gehman's stripping away of the band's enigmatic tendencies. "Fall On Me" gained considerable airplay, their most so far, and the album made it as far as #21, their best showing to date. A spotty collection of B-sides and rarities followed, entitled Dead Letter Office.

Their next album, and final for I.R.S., was Document, released in 1987. By this point, R.E.M.'s audience had reached critical mass; while the band made no overt commercial moves on Document, it finally represented their big mainstream breakthrough. In fact, Document was something of a retreat from the bold mainstream approach of Life's Rich Pageant; Scott Litt became the band's new producer, a chair he'd occupy for a long time. While keeping the sound clear, he recognized the importance texture had in the band's approach. Thus, much of the band's mystery was restored, without sacrificing sound quality. The songs themselves are a vast improvement over the previous album. It opens with "Finest Worksong" which immediately returns R.E.M. to the enigma of Reckoning while providing a muscular noise-pop arrangement that resembles Fables. "Exhuming McCarthy" is the band's most explicitly political song to date, yet it also remains vague enough to avoid didacticism. "It's The End Of The World As I Know It" was a big radio hit, a joyous garage rocker with nonsense lyrics and big chorus, "King Of Birds" is quite possibly their greatest psychedelic art-rock songs of the 1980's, with Berry's martial drumming, Buck's grand arpeggios, and Stipe's poetic lyrics. The tortured "The One I Love" became the band's very first hit single, peaking at #9 and propelling the album to #10, finally gaining them recognition in the U.K. as well.

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