R.E.M. - Out of Time

 

In which our hero grows up and discovers music beyond top 40. Except...not really.

I could have claimed to move beyond the dross of top 40 music if R.E.M. hadn't actually broken the top 40 twice before, with "The One I Love," from Document, and "Stand," from Green. Still, R.E.M.'s indie cred had been established a decade previous, and the bulk of their fans had not abandoned them. That is, as long as they could hold their nose long enough to keep from saying that they just weren't the same since *fill in the blank*, with the blank usually being Murmur, or at most Reckoning. Much to their credit, R.E.M. toured constantly through the '80s, culminating in the backbreaking international Green tour. So their musical chops, never less than excellent, had been honed to a fine point, and they needed a break. I'm not sure how much they allowed themselves, considering that the tour ended almost exactly a year after Green's release, but it would have been deserved.

Anyhow, my experience with R.E.M. until 1991 was unremarkable. I remember one of my middle school teachers choosing "The One I Love" to be played at our back-to-school dance, and boy did that clear the dance floor. Didn't exactly endear me to these guys. Nor did "Stand," which just sounded silly. There were rumblings that R.E.M. was some legendary band that rose from some mysterious murk, but on the evidence of both of these songs, I didn't get it. At. All. Even when I hit high school, some of my snarkier acquaintances raved about this band, which did make me wonder if they were better than I had originally thought. (This was when I still couldn't distinguish between "snarky" and "cool.")

So Out of Time was to be my entry into this band. Reading a laudatory review in Rolling Stone helped me feel better about giving R.E.M. a try. And "Losing My Religion"...oh, boy...that song was like the finest silk caramel pop candy to my ears. I could listen to that song over and over and over again. And once I got the CD, I did. Ad in-fuckin'-itum.

The thing was, despite growing up as some cool college radio band and critics' darling, R.E.M. didn't sound cool on Out of Time. They sounded supremely tuneful. They knew how to write and perform pop music that sounded like it was perfect, effortless, and totally meant to be. And it was music that even my parents might like. R.E.M. didn't sound edgy this time out. Just...really, really good. But millions of people agreed with me. So...so much for me discovering hidden treasure.

Losing My Religion - Seriously, I consider this just about the best pop song ever created. (Rife with Caravaggio pastiches and Soviet agitprop references, the video, directed by Tarsem, meshes with the song perfectly.) Sits juuuust beneath "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys. Speaking of which...

Near Wild Heaven - Our boys channel the Beach Boys themselves here in some of the sunniest music and golden harmonies since Pet Sounds. Doesn't mean the lyrics are all that sunny - in fact, they allude to a relationship falling apart - but the contrast makes the song that much more compelling. Just like Pet Sounds. And despite the frequent harmonies here, Mike Mills actually takes main vocals during the verses. It's a brilliant move; his voice, smoother, less distinct, but no less attractive than Michael Stipe's, allows the guitars and bass to fill the room as well. Here's evidence that R.E.M. is a band, with no part taking too much of the spotlight.

Endgame - This elysian ditty was the first instrumental R.E.M. ever put out on an album...or at least their first song without words; there's a fair bit of humming and, again, graceful harmonies. The trumpet in the second...uh...verse fits so cleanly that I only recognized it as a rip from The Waltons a few years after I first heard it. R.E.M. never got more pastoral than this.

Shiny Happy People - No, not one of my favorites. It's not bad, per se, but Michael Stipe warned us when he said there would be a song on Out of Time that made "Stand" sound like a dirge. Mission accomplished. I'm not sure why they made this song, not sure why they released it, and I'm glad they never went down this path again.

Texarkana - Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Mike Mills to the main microphone once again. This time, the plangent instrumentation, adorned with pedal steel, strong bass, and orchestral strings, nearly overwhelms the song. Mike wails lyrics of desperation and regret, almost unable to sing over the rest of the band.

Strangely, Out of Time received the most mixed reviews of any R.E.M. album up to that point. I'm not sure why, other than maybe it was the biggest break with the jangle-pop past that had been so reliable. Peter Buck acknowledged that there were hardcore fans who swore off R.E.M. once they heard "Losing My Religion," and he politely invited them to "kiss my ass." No worries. As I said above, there were millions of new fans ready to replace those old ones, and I was happily one of them.