I was recently asked whether REM had made any other albums like 1992’s beauty, Automatic for the People. That moody, ballady hit album had a carefully worked quasi-acoustic surface that made it sound almost mainstream.
Trouble is, REM tend not to repeat themselves very often. Out of Time, the album before Automatic for the People, sonically prefigured that masterpiece, but after it came Monster, which was monstrous indeed – abrasive, edgy glam- grunge all the way.
REM’s new album, Up (Warner Bros), will further confuse those unused to the band’s regular evolutions and revolutions. Its title is perverse: the work here is neither very uptempo nor particularly upbeat.
Drummer Bill Berry recently left the group, causing speculation that it was all over for the best American rock band of the last decade. But, as singer Michael Stipe said, “A three-legged dog is still a dog.” And this dog never really ran in a straight line anyway.
Up is still very much a REM album, held together by Stipe’s unique voice, but its feel differs from any REM album so far. For a start, they have fully embraced electronica, and far more successfully than U2, their rivals for the world’s best band tag. Perhaps that is because they always were more experimental than U2, less tied to rock as a genre or structure.
For the first time, too, Stipe’s lyrics are given in the booklet. Previously he has rather gloried in their frequent unintelligibility. Here, most of them seem relatively straightforward, though still in Stipean stream-of- consciousness, and they are often touching: Stipe can write gorgeously simple love songs when he wants to. That simplicity is offset, however, by the elusiveness and obliquity of many of the album’s tunes (the catchiest is part-borrowed from Leonard Cohen).
Up will not expand REM’s fan base much, if at all, but for those who’ve been with them for the trip so far it offers an intriguing new perspective on a proudly idiosyncratic band. I suspect, too, that this is an album of secrets that will reveal themselves, slowly, over time.
Soundbites
The Beautiful South: Quench (PolyGram) Like the visits to the pub about which they regularly write, The Beautiful South’s albums are a mix of the predictable, the brilliant and the downright dull. Seventh time around, the melodies have become sluggish and shapeless, and Paul Heaton’s drolly saturnine worldview miserable. A rum do. – Neil Spencer
Ray Lema: The Dream of the Gazelle (Detour) One of Africa’s biggest pop stars goes “classical”, with a multi- movement piece performed by a Swedish chamber orchestra. Much of it is quite lovely, but some sounds like empty movie music without visuals or anywhere particular to go. – SdW
Jerry Seinfeld: I’m Telling You for the Last Time (BMG) The Anglophone world’s favourite comedian in solo stand-up mode, poking fun at New York taxi drivers, doctors, McDonald’s, Chinese people, the Olympics and more. It’s not as hilarious as his TV show, but it’s witty and wry in just the right proportions. – SdW