This Year In Music Is Awesome (So Far)

I've been told I say it every year. I've admitted, on more than one occasion, on this blog and in the flesh, that I say it every year. But who gives a fuck. This year has been especially great for new music. And why not be enthusiastic about it?

I'm far too lazy to put much real thought into this post, but I now have to try to keep up with the Joneses on The Bashionista's blogroll, so I'd like to post, in iTunes alphabetical order, the records I've been (virtually) spinning this year, with some brief words on each.

ADELE -- 21

Her name is in all caps in iTunes, and she sort of deserves it so I'm using that style here, too. Look, you probably have figured out at this point that I don't like pop music, and that when I find something in that vein that moves me, I get all giggly like a 13-year-old girl (See: West, Kanye). ADELE isn't going to win album of the year -- she's no Ella Fitzgerald (who had no need for caps) -- but Someone Like You is a stop-everything-you're-doing-and-listen kind of song.

Bon Iver -- Bon Iver

My arch rival Eric Zimmermann told me this record would change my life. It hasn't yet. And I'm not even sure I like it as much as his/their debut, which I nominated for my Album of the Year in 2008. I think what hurts this one, even more so than the first, is that I can't make out most of the words when he sings them. Does that comment make me old? If so, so be it. But still, great record.

The Decemberists -- The King is Dead

No, this is not going to be Colin Meloy's second Album of the Year. And to an extent it deserves some of the criticism it has been getting. But there are a couple songs that make it worthwhile, especially the Peter Buck-driven Calamity Song and the Gillian Welch-peppered June Hymn.

Fleet Foxes -- Helplessness Blues

The only thing that could keep this album out of the Album of the Year running would be for the mp3s to become corrupted and for me to have some sort of head injury that erased the record from my memory. Still, I think I'd find a way to re-discover it, and be charmed all over again.

Garland Jeffreys -- The King of In Between

Rolling Stone's Best New Artist in 1977 has been mostly laying low for decades. Then he comes out with this love letter to New York City -- Coney Island Winter being the highlight -- and all of a sudden I'm listening to happy roots rock. What's happening to me?

Gillian Welch -- The Harrow and the Harvest

I'm going to be honest with you -- I'd love to say that the eight-year wait for Gillian's new record (released on my birthday!) was worth it. It wasn't. Don't get me wrong, I am digging this album quite a bit. But I wish I had three of four more to mix in with it at my leisure. That being said, there is nothing like falling asleep to the perfect dance that is Gillian's and Dave Rawlings' guitars making love on tape.

Iron & Wine -- Kiss Eachother Clean

Poor Iron & Wine. Once Fleet Foxes' new one came out, my thirst for bearded folkies was quenched elsewhere. But, you know, once those mp3s become corrupted and I have my head injury ...

John Maus -- We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves

If you don't like the song Quantum Leap, well, I guess I can't blame you. Fuck that, I do blame you. The '80s are alive and well.

Julianna Barwick -- The Magic Place

I ripped this on Twitter the day I bought it. And yes, it can try your patience if you're not in the mood. I'm not sure if I've gotten through any one track more than one time. But it's gorgeous and we're probably going to get married, so don't tell her.

Lykke Li -- Wounded Rhymes

Is it already too late to be cool for liking the song Get Some? "Like a shotgun/needs an outcome/I'm your prostitute/you're gonna get some." The window on everyone on planet Earth not knowing this song is closing very rapidly.

Mogwai -- Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will

All year, whenever an awesome instrumental track pops up on shuffle, I wonder who it is for only a split second before realizing -- duh! -- it can only be Mogwai. Actually, that's been happening for years.

My Morning Jacket -- Circuital

I haven't given this one nearly the time it deserves. But the song Victory Dance alone is worth the $9.99 or whatever I paid for the full album on iTunes. (And the album art reminds me of Bioshock.)

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart -- Belong

Speaking of the '80s being alive and well, My Terrible Friend is this year's best Cure song not by the Cure. Cure fans: Do you like this song or does it annoy you? I'm a Cure fan, but not an overprotective diehard, so more of this stuff in the world doesn't bother me one bit.

PJ Harvey -- Let England Shake

I can't say enough about this record, which totally kicks ass, so I won't even try. Check this space again in November for a certain list of nominees.

Radiohead -- The King of Limbs

Subtle, gorgeous, the best rock band on the planet doing what it wants any way it fucking wants to. Glorious.

Wye Oak -- Civilian

They had me at hello when I saw them live. Get the title track if nothing else.





Other stuff I've been listening to this year but don't feel like writing about tonight:

Aperture Science Psychoacoustics Laboratory -- Portal 2: Songs To Test By
Apex Manor -- The Year of Magical Drinking
Bill Callahan -- Apocalypse
Death Cab For Cutie -- Codes and Keys
Eddie Vedder -- Ukelele Songs
Figurines -- Figurines (with a song named Poughkeepsie!)
The Mountain Goats -- All Eternals Deck
Okkervil River -- I Am Very Far
Panda Bear -- Tomboy
R.E.M. -- Collapse Into Now

RIB's (Early) Spring 2011 Mix

I finally have Interwebs at my new place, so I can, at long last, get around to a post that's a couple months old at this point: RIB's (Early) Spring 2011 Mix.

The mix is a hand-crafted and immaculately designed product -- conceived during a weekend trip to Boston in March and signifying the slow, hopeful climb out of a brutal winter and using only songs released in early 2011 -- which was shipped to a handful of friends who made me the best offers on Facebook.

To those of you who have reciprocated or are reciprocating now, I thank you.

Those of you who still owe me arancini, GET A MOVE ON IT!!!

Here are some more photos and the (brief) track list.




TRACKLIST

1. You're Lionel Ritchie -- Mogwai (8:29)
2. The Glorious Land -- PJ Harvey (3:35)
3. Little By Little -- Radiohead (4:27)
4. Love Out of Lust -- Lykke Li (4:44)
5. That Someone Is You -- R.E.M. (1:44)
6. Calamity Song -- The Decemberists (3:48)
7. Half Moon -- Iron & Wine (3:16)
8. Helplessness Blues -- Fleet Foxes (5:03)

The Ghosts of New R.E.M. Records Past

I'm listening to the new R.E.M. album, Collapse Into Now -- released today -- on my old CD player, and it occurs to me that it's the exact same CD player I played Monster on the day it was released nearly 17 years ago — still my favorite New R.E.M. Record Day ever.

Which got me thinking: Can I remember where I was living, what I was doing, and where exactly I bought every R.E.M. album on the day of its release? I admit it’s much easier for me than for some people; I only started buying brand spanking new R.E.M. albums on that same day back in 1994, when a 16-year-old high-school Matt hopped into his shit brown 1980s Monte Carlo hand-me-down and ... wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.

MONSTER (Sept. 26, 1994): I’ve told this story many times, so many that I wouldn’t be surprised if you Googled “Matt Marrone” and “Monster” and found 40 different retellings of it. The basic gist is this: I couldn’t sit still all that day in school. I think “R.E.M.” was every other word I said (“Monster” was the other). I had heard What’s The Frequency, Kenneth? and, like many recently converted R.E.M. devotees, I was wondering why the fuck it didn’t sound like Automatic For The People. In fact, I hated it on first listen. After school, I drove to Media Play in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., and couldn’t find the damn CD anywhere. I almost left the store dejected until I took one last peek at the New Releases section and, being that my desperation was bordering on panic, I figured I’d pick up the neon orange CD with the cartoonish bear head on it and see what the hell that was. My life as a music fan has never, ever been the same. I took Monster home, marveled at how brash it was, how gruff and distorted and loud, how it seemed like a great big fuck you to the Grammy voters and casual fans they’d picked up the previous few years. It was glorious. I listened to WTF,K? every single day after school for at least six months.

NEW ADVENTURES IN HI-FI (Sept. 9, 1996): Maybe my one-time blogging partner Geoff can remember specifics, but we were college roommates at NYU at the time, and I almost certainly bought it at the Tower Records that used to be (essentially) on campus. I recall just a few days before, we attended a record promo party a few blocks away at Astor Place (it was a parking lot then, now it’s a high-rise), and along with showing Road Movie and handing out album cover stickers, they tossed a few promo copies of the album into the crowd. I would have given my left nut for one. I got a million stickers, but no CD. Turns out a guy on our floor (at Brittany Residence Hall on 10th and Broadway) got a copy. We heard a bit of it emanating from his room, but were too shy to knock on his door. Oh the follies of youth.

UP (Oct. 26, 1998): I remember this one like it was yesterday. The record was released not long after serendipity struck; I had sent away for David Letterman tickets that summer and the very week I found out R.E.M. was going to be on, my parents called and told me I’d gotten some type of letter from The Late Show. Turns out it was two tickets to the same night R.E.M. was appearing. The night of the show, I sang along to Daysleeper to Geoff’s embarrassment/horror and the fascination of one CBS page. Good times (I also scored tickets and saw them on Conan not long after, which is when I met the band for the first time). Anyway, the night before the record was released, they had a Midnight Madness sale at the aforementioned Tower Records. We were living near South Street Seaport at the time, and Geoff, to my shock and dismay, decided it was too much work and went to sleep. He later came to regret it, but for me it turned out to be one of my most memorable first listens. Not that anything crazy happened at the sale; it was just the subway ride home, reading the lyrics (printed lyrics? gasp!) and then listening back in the apartment, on the 27th floor of Clair Huxtable’s law offices, all of Manhattan glittering around and below me. I remember calling Liz, then my girlfriend, in the wee hours of the morning to tell her about the record. I was so moved by it I literally felt sick. To this day, it’s my second favorite R.E.M. album, eclipsed only by Monster.

REVEAL (May 14, 2001): I decided, with the Internet changing music buying forever — in ways that seemed more bad than good, at least back then -- that I’d refrain from downloading any tracks or reading any advance features/spoilers/what have you prior to the album’s release. I was living in Prague, and my roommate Ryan would read articles and not tell me what they said so I could live vicariously through him. Just before Reveal came out, Ryan, my student Petr and I drove to Cologne, Germany, to see R.E.M. perform live in a square next to the city’s gorgeous gothic cathedral. We stayed overnight at the home of some wonderful fellow fans — who tormented me by trying to show me the album cover — then joined 70,000-plus others for one of the greatest (free) concerts of all time. Not only would it be the first time I had heard the new songs, but just hours before the band took the stage, I heard my name being called from across the square. “Matt! Matt!” It was my German friend, Charis, who had been there for my famed Burger King crown incident in ’99, and with whom I’d completely lost touch. Later, I had a baseball catch with a Brit on a suburban German street ... and the drive home, was, well, that’s an entirely different, and yet even more legendary, story. (For the record, I eventually bought Reveal at Bontonland in Wenceslas Square, where I got all my music during my two years in the Czech Republic.)

AROUND THE SUN (Oct. 4, 2004): I’d rather forget this album, entirely, but I’ve given myself the task, so here goes. I was back in the U.S. at this point, living with my uncle in the Bronx and commuting to my then part-time job at the Daily News, having just returned from my graduate school thesis work in Scotland. I hate hate hate this album, and I can’t remember where I got it (probably Virgin Megastore in Times Square or something like that). I actually enjoyed my first listen that night, lying in what had once been my grandparents’ bedroom, because I had already heard it — and hated it — prior to the release and was in that New R.E.M. Record Day haze that makes even a shiny turd seem shinier.

ACCELERATE (April 1, 2008): Another all-time classic release day. It started with waking up before dawn and making my way from my old apartment in Hoboken, N.J., to Rockefeller Plaza to see R.E.M. perform on the Today show. As it turned out, I got to see them do a soundcheck as well as perform live, and I ended up getting caught on camera (screen grab here). I also met fellow fans Jen and MaryLou on line and the three of us later went to a nearby Best Buy and bought the album. I had this blog back then, so here is the full account.

COLLAPSE INTO NOW (Today): Kind of anticlimactic since so much of the record was released by the band beforehand, and the entire thing was streamed on NPR over the weekend. Plus, I had to work (ESPN New York) and couldn’t buy it (at Tunes in Hoboken) until I got home (my second go-around in my fifth Hoboken apartment). I bought it on both vinyl and CD (I don’t buy CDs anymore except for R.E.M.) and then played it on my aforementioned CD player, which was also the first CD player I ever owned. And it sounded great -- once I was able to rip the long-stuck CD tray out so I could get the damn thing in there.

Okay, I could go into more detail but I have Mr. Geoff on the phone and we’re talking about how old we are.

Happy New R.E.M. Record Day!

REMRing's got a lot to learn

It seems my sparring partner, Eric, despite his stated dislike for the soon-to-be-released R.E.M. album, Collapse Into Now, is far more excited about it than I am.

How do I know this? Somehow he managed to skip ahead and write track reviews for All The Best, Everyday Is Yours To Win, Walk It Back, the video for Uberlin and the song Alligator_Aviator_Autopilot_Antimatter before I could get around to responding to even his first post, let alone listen to the latter track enough to remember its name (I had to copy and paste it from his site).

Eric, I implore you, sit back, take a deep breath, enjoy a White Sox spring training loss and a nice slice of deep-dish pizza (I need a recommendation for my upcoming trip, by the way), and relax. The blogosphere can survive a few hours without you.

Anyway, as a result of your verbal barrage, I am forced to condense my response into a single post. Here goes:

Dearest fellow R.E.M. enthusiast,

Let's take your rarely lucid points one by one:

1. All The Best: A broken (tick tock) clock is right twice a day, as they say, and since there are two tracks on this album that do nothing for me, All The Best and Walk It Back, you come off like a fine piece of precision Swiss craftsmanship here. The song is filler, little more, and while it doesn't tarnish their legacy, it likely won't get many spins from this diehard fan.

2. Everyday Is Yours To Win: It really surprises me that you like this song as much as you do. Still, your clear inability to form reasonable opinions of new R.E.M. songs has grown to near-epic proportions, so I'll once again have to humor you with a response. You're right, Everyday Is Yours To Win is one of the best songs on the album. And yet it still has some of its corniest lines (the aforementioned tick tock, plus cherry pie and I've got a bridge for you). Where on other songs, that would immediately disqualify it from your esteem, you're willing to look past it, accept it for what it is, and enjoy it. With all due respect, why can't you fucking do that with the rest of the album? Your mysteries are vast (though not at all intriguing).

3. Walk It Back: I don't hate it as much as you do -- the music itself is decent enough. But yes, Stipe is no longer a deep, nuanced lyricist. Again, you'd hate this song a whole lot less if you could accept that. Still, I'm not gonna fight you here. Stipe mailed this one in, so why shouldn't I follow suit?

4. The video for Uberlin: I really like the song, and the video is fine. Does anyone even give a crap about music videos anymore? As long as it doesn't result in the band facing criminal prosecution (snuff film, kiddie porn, terroristic threats), I really don't care much either way. That being said, I was taken aback by your claim that the R.E.M. fan community loathes it. Why? At worst it's simply forgettable (perhaps a valid criticism of the record as a whole), but after a couple views I think it's just good fun.

5. A_A_A_A: There a few songs on CiN that, while they may not be essential R.E.M., simply rawk. This is one of them. Peaches is great, and Stipe sounds like he's woken up after a nice 3:24 nap. While, yes, the lyrics are nonsensical, this is a prime example of a song you should be praising. What group of 50-somethings still make music that sounds this alive? #Winning.

Okay, I think we're caught up. If not, my dinner's ready anyway so feel free to continue your assault on the the Internet's collective intelligence.

Records You Should Buy: PJ Harvey's Let England Shake

I've only had it a day, but PJ Harvey's Let England Shake is already my favorite record of 2011. That will quite possibly change come Saturday, but for now it's on repeat in my apartment.

This is one of those instances where I wish I had the liner notes, for reasons not the least of which being that Let England Shake is a World War I epic and I don't know nearly as much about World War I as I probably should. I'd love to see what she's got going on in print, if only to read the lyrics (yes, yes, I'll get them online and read them right after I finish this post; plus I'm planning to Instapaper just about any review I can find).

But the lyrics that have hit me so far -- soldiers longing to see a woman's face, the dead falling like lumps of meat, "England's dancing days are done" -- put you right in the trenches of some long-ago, black and white battle, a surreal feeling heightened by the infectious musical accompaniment in the title track (see below), the cavalry bugle in The Glorious Land -- even the callout to Eddie Cochran's golden oldie Summertime Blues in The Words That Maketh Murder (also below, though not quite the album version).

If you've ever been interested in PJ Harvey -- her Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea record is a modern classic, and she also did the haunting score for the Mary-Louise Parker production of Hedda Gabler I had the pleasure of seeing on Broadway a couple years back -- I'd say pick this one up.

I'm really just starting to dig into it myself -- there's a lot to digest here, and I'm basically still on the appetizer course -- but it's already clear this is a journey worth taking.

It Happened Eddie

What would R.E.M.'s It Happened Today sound like if Eddie Vedder had sung lead? Probably better than this, but it's 5 o'clock in the morning and I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

Enjoy!

It Happened Eddie by matthew_marrone

Join the R.E.M. remix project here.

Stop and Smell the Roses

R.E.M.'s new single, Mine Smell Like Honey, is now available on iTunes. As usual, my sparring partner Eric is up in arms. Let's see if we can talk him off the *(&?!*%^@#( ledge already.

Dear Eric,

Usually, your monologues are a monument to ignorance and illiteracy. This time, while those traits are present as usual, your commentary takes on a new quality: desperation.

You seem to want, so terribly, for me to tell you that you're wrong, that Mine Smells Like Honey is indeed classic R.E.M., that the band is on top of its game, that Stipe & Co. still represent the very pinnacle of rock and roll. You compare Collapse Into Now to the latest record by Arcade Fire, an A-list band in its prime, and you wonder why Arcade Fire's songs sound better to you than R.E.M.'s new ones do.

I'm sorry to disappoint, but you're absolutely right. Arcade Fire is a better band than R.E.M. is right now. I feel like a broken record on this, and perhaps I am, but The Suburbs is Arcade Fire's third record. Collapse Into Now is R.E.M.'s 15th. There simply is no real basis for comparison between the two, and holding one up to the other is sheer madness. You're dooming yourself to disappointment and despair -- but to what purpose?

What do you gain by holding R.E.M. to such an impossible standard? Moreover, why does R.E.M. have to be the best, most important band in the world for you to love them? You've discussed on Facebook the possibility of shutting down your site -- a site devoted as much to the early history of the band as is it dedicated to the present -- because the band's recent output no longer thrills you like it did 20 years ago. But I think you owe it to yourself to relax your standards a bit. Imagine listening to the new songs and finding joy in them instead of disappointment. When I listen to Mine Smell Like Honey, I'm not anticipating the sudden realization that Collapse Into Now is gonna end up as the 2011 Matty Album of the Year. It's Arcade Fire's turn to vie for such honors. And yet I can still put new R.E.M. on and feel good about it. The new record isn't the be all and end all of my music collection -- nor does it need to be.

As much as you might want me to, I can't convince you that the new songs are good and I can't force you to like them. I'm a pretty stingy, stubborn critic myself. But in my initial disgust over Around the Sun, I realized in horror that my worst fears had come true -- R.E.M. was no longer truly relevant. At first I was angry, bitter, resentful -- and all around a pretty miserable son of a bitch on certain message boards. But, as the weeks and months passed, I came to terms with it -- and, like many things in life, the worrying was far worse than the reality. I've since found new artists to take R.E.M.'s place on the pedestal, and ever since, I've been perfectly fine winning small battles with the band, without worrying about the greater war.

In other words, a new R.E.M. record doesn't need to be Monster. I'll never be 16 again, and R.E.M. will never be 14. And that's okay.

At the same time, I feel reasonably confident, if not wholly convinced, that there is no way in hell Arcade Fire's 15th album will be as good as R.E.M.'s 15th. In fact I'd consider it a worthwhile wager that Arcade Fire will never even release a 15th record. You may consider that a good thing, but I disagree. I'd much rather have a decent bunch of songs to look forward to -- I've been playing the tracks from Collapse Into Now nonstop for weeks, singing along like I actually was 16 again -- and the new set of happy memories that go along with them, than be limited to their no-less brilliant back catalogue.

For this reason among others, I consider myself fortunate to be an R.E.M. fan. I think if you accepted reality, you'd feel fortunate too.

R.E.M. Warms A Cold, Cold Heart

My ongoing conversation with REManklet.com continues today with the unveiling of a new R.E.M. song, Oh My Heart, which you can now hear at NPR's website.

I suggest you listen to the song -- and peruse Eric's surprisingly positive reaction -- before you read my response below:

Derek Sanderson Zimmermann,

It's nice to see you've recently become a fan of my favorite band, R.E.M.

I promise, as you set forth on your new adventure, that you won't be disappointed by the great majority of the band's back catalogue. If you're looking for something lovely and brooding, Automatic For The People is a good starting point for the casual fan, as is its Grammy-winning predecessor, Out Of Time. There may even be a song or two you recognize on those records from your favorite pop station back in the early '90s.

Perhaps you caught a verse of Shiny Happy People as you feverously twisted your FM dial in the hopes of hearing Kris Kross' anthem, Jump, which saved your ass on your first day of junior high, when you inadvertently showed up at homeroom with all your clothes on backwards. Or maybe The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite was sandwiched between a CeCe Peniston song and Eric Clapton's Tears In Heaven, to this day the most touching expression of love for a 4-year-old who fell to his death from a window ever to hit Top 40 radio -- as well as your first real foray into "grownup music."

I, and the reader(s) of REMring.com, look forward to your thoughts on such hits as Losing My Religion and Man On The Moon; I suggest, as a fun experiment, that you post your immediate impressions when you finally hear them, so the blogosphere can experience the raw sensation of discovery along with you.

Moving on, I applaud your positive response to Oh My Heart, despite your caveats, which I will address now. I happen to agree that Oh My Heart is a strong song, and, while yes, it may have been better had the band recorded it during their Stipe-as-master-crooner, Out Of Time-era heyday, that would have actually been impossible, as the song hadn't yet been written.

As for the lyrical reference to Houston, well, I would agree with you wholeheartedly if it weren't for the simple fact that the lyrical reference actually works here. It revisits a character and a time, updating a memorable phrase with its aftermath. That's very different from simply adding "part two!" to the lyrics -- which, by the way, is essentially what Metallica did for the song The Unforgiven II, their follow-up to another classic of your youth that helped shape you into the music fan you are today.

In all, I think we agree that Oh My Heart is a solid effort. I'm not sure if it is, as you assert, the best of the three tracks we've heard so far, but for me, that would be more of a compliment than it is for you. Still, I'm glad to have you on board. If you have any questions about the band, please don't hesitate. I suggest you try to see them on their next tour -- they put on a fantastic show, and I have a feeling you'd become a great enthusiast of their live oeuvre.

Love always,
Matt

RIB's 2010 Album of the Year: Laura Veirs, July Flame

This year's race for Most Important Album, at least in my mind, came down to two records: Arcade Fire's The Suburbs and Kanye West's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Of those, the overwhelming edge goes to Kanye, who so brilliantly transcended his own genre he easily won over a hip hop hater like myself.

But there's just one thing: My Album of the Year isn't intended to be given to the year's Most Important Album. It goes to my favorite album. And that, beyond the shadow of a doubt, was Laura Veirs' July Flame.

Kanye West's record was, and is, a megaton of fireworks and a landmark achievement that deserves all its accolades -- I picked it as Unwinnable's Album of the Year, after all -- but no record has meant as much to me as July Flame, which stayed fresh, spin after spin, all year long, finding new ways to hold onto me at every turn.

I bought July Flame when it came out last January, and it's been the record I've listened to the most just about every month since. While it only appeared on a few other people's year-end lists -- I know, because I've been looking for it -- it doesn't matter. July Flame tops mine.

Song after song is its own tiny treasure. I Can See Your Tracks is about knowing what path to avoid, and resigning yourself not to take it no matter how much it hurts. The title track treads similar ground, though this time it's about reaching out instead of falling back. Life Is Good Blues is about finding the right dance partner, while Summer Is The Champion is about rolling around in the grass with her (or him, if you're Laura Veirs). Carol Kaye is a fan's ode to a musical hero. Make Something Good, as I wrote in my nomination entry last month, is a prayer from creator to Creator -- a mission statement for an artist (or a human) of any stripe.

Each of July Flame's songs is so perfectly realized it stops mattering that the record lacks both the bravado and ambition of Kanye West's masterpiece. After all, an Album of the Year doesn't have to want to be an Album of the Year. Sometimes it's just right, as it is with July Flame -- start to finish, a record that feels like home. And that's something you can't measure intellectually.

Most Important is a title to strive for; Most Loved is something far less tangible, and, at the same time, all the more valuable.

The Innocence Mission Hates Me

Why else would they stop touring completely and yet still post these on YouTube? Karen, Don and Mike: You don't have to play a one-off show in NYC like I've been begging you to; just invite me over to your house for coffee and serenade me for a couple hours. Thanks, your friend Matt.

It Happened Today, Not Yesterday

In my previous entry, I responded to the incoherent ramblings of one Eric Zimmermann, a fine young man who means well, he really does, but lacks the synapses necessary to compile anything resembling a cogent argument, let alone blog about it. Case in point, his latest piece -- which you can find here -- which I merely skimmed. I suggest you avoid reading it while operating heavy machinery or if weeping openly would put you in a compromising position. Also, you can download the two new R.E.M. tracks we've been discussing, Discoverer and It Happened Today, here and here, respectively.

Here is my refutation:

Dear Erin Zimmerberg,

Before we get to your latest adorable but failed attempt at music criticism, I'd like to take a moment to congratulate you on your recent bat mitzvah. By no means would I want to embarrass you, but your journey into womanhood is not to be taken lightly, and I celebrate your achievement in this holy and time-honored rite of passage. I was surprised you didn't post any photos from the synagogue on your blog; Rabbi Remnikoff said you held up very well on your torah, and I expected you to at least share the snapshots your aunt Sheila took with her new PowerShot camera.

No matter. Everyone expresses their joy in different ways. I know your Bubbe took some Flip video of you doing the Electric Slide at the reception, which I'm sure you'll put on YouTube post haste.

Moving on to the musical stylings of R.E.M. and the fantasy world your brain is whisked off to whenever said band is mentioned, I have read and ruminated upon your latest treatise. You contend that rock music is not just a young man's game, so maybe you can enlighten us as to the other rock bands that were still producing essential material into their third decade. While I can rest my case with just four words -- Get On Your Boots -- I have made a list of one band per decade that I consider in R.E.M.'s class when viewed in the context of rock music history, and looked into their output in later years.

The Beatles (1960s)
Even though you've had The Fireman album on repeat for two years now, the actual Beatles disbanded after just eight years of recording. They did release two new tracks 34 years after their first record, on their Anthology collection, but unlike the tripe you seem to think the latest R.E.M. music is, they were forced to jam in guitars, drums and bass over vocals recorded by a man dead, at the time, for more than 15 years. Michael Stipe, on the other hand, has only been dead for five, six years tops. Advantage: R.E.M.

Led Zeppelin (1970s)
A mere 42 years after Led Zeppelin was formed, Robert Plant is again thrilling Grammy voters with roots music I'm sure is just great but have absolutely no time or interest in ever actually listening to. Zeppelin lasted about ten years before their drummer kicked the bucket. Unlike R.E.M., they did not survive the death of John Bonham by producing a modern day classic like the post-Bill Berry masterpiece Up. Instead, they disbanded and Plant and Jimmy Page embarked on solo careers in the '80s only their mothers followed. Advantage: R.E.M.

U2 (1980s)
Get On Your Boots. Advantage: R.E.M.

Of course, the importance of bands and the quality of their later work is subject to interpretation, but I think my point here is clear. And that point is:

If you are still expecting R.E.M. to release flawless, A-1 quality work, essential not only within their own catalogue but, by extension, within the rock music canon, you are, my friend, delusional.

No, Discoverer and It Happened Today are not mind-blowing works of pure genius. But they're halfway decent, which gives them a slight edge on George Harrison's highly acclaimed Cloud Nine album, despite the classic first single, I've Got My Mind Set On You, which, admittedly, set the world on fire. And that gem of a record came out a mere 25 years after the Beatles first unleashed Please Please Me unto the world.

Love,
Matt

R.E.M.'s Discoverer (First Reaction)

An acquaintance of mine, Don Zimmerman, writes a satirical blog called REMRing.com, on which he pretends to know something about music. We've had our share of philosophical exchanges -- I highly recommend this one -- and now he has challenged me to an ongoing dialogue during the lead up to, and release of, R.E.M.'s forthcoming album, Collapse Into Now (street date: March 8, 2011).

Here is his opening salvo. I recommend reading it before proceeding to the response below. I also recommend downloading -- for free! -- the new R.E.M. song we discuss, Discoverer, here.

***

Dear Mr. Zimmer,

Let me first congratulate you on your many fine years of service to major league baseball, especially your championship seasons as Joe Torre's Yankee consigliere. Your services as bench coach provided much-appreciated wisdom and occasional comic relief, and for that I salute you.

Less admirable, though, is your misguided need to compare R.E.M. 2011 to the R.E.M. we both knew and obsessed over some 20-odd years ago. You even contradict yourself by assuming I will list previous R.E.M. albums the new song, Discoverer, reminds me of, in your ill-conceived pre-emptive strike at making a point about it lacking originality, while at the same time going out of your way to reference an R.E.M. track it doesn't remind you of. Both approaches are foolhardy.

Eric, if I can call you by your Internet pen name, I think you are forgetting one obvious, but indisputable fact:

R.E.M. is old.

In fact, the combined age of our three renowned electric minstrels from Athens, Ga., by my rough calculation, is approximately 376 years. And, as I've remarked on more than one occasion, Peter (I-dated-your-grandmother) Buck is, indeed, the motherfucking father of our country.


As hard as it may be to accept, no band of old farts has ever remained as vital as it was 20 years prior, let alone after 31 years, the anniversary R.E.M. will celebrate in April. To expect them to be would be both ridiculous and unfair -- two of the more unsavory qualities in your latest missive.

True, R.E.M. had long been an exception to this rule, making music I'd label essential well into their second decade. But no band is immune to the effects of time, and Michael Stipe would be a pretty immature prick if he still cared about the same things he did when he was in college. There are only so many songs one can write about paranoid schizophrenics attacking news anchors or one's own frustrations with being a media sensation. Eventually one becomes content -- and their art starts to suck.

As R.E.M. fans, we've been extremely lucky. We've only suffered through one truly awful record out of 14. We both know what that record is, and it will not be named here.

Granted, the new track's production leaves something to be desired and the lyrics can't hold a candle to Stipe during his heyday. Still, its chorus of shouts, coupled with Buck's blaring guitar, Mike Mills' thumping bass and Bill Rieflin's driving drumkit, is about as thrilling a moment as one can expect from a 31-year-old band -- and it's not even the first single, which all but a select few have yet to hear.

Discoverer, just because it is not What's The Frequency, Kenneth?, is neither a bad song, nor is it the worst opening cut of their distinguished career.

What it is, to you, is disappointing.

And that's your fault -- not R.E.M.'s.