- READ MORE:Â R.E.M. tell us about 25 years of âMonsterâ: âWe needed swagger â to be loud and rawâ
‘Around The Sun’ (2004)
Any career that spans over 30 years is bound to hit a low point or two. Thereâs no question that R.E.M. never managed to truly redefine themselves without drummer Bill Berry and âAround The Sunâ is definitely the low point of that era. But it isnât the horrendous disaster that most fans would have you believe. Thereâs nothing here that would earn a place on a career-spanning âBest Ofâ, but no abominations either. Its greatest sin is that it lacks any emotional impact, sounds almost nothing like R.E.M. and has absolutely nothing to say. OK, admittedly written down that sounds pretty bad. But even the songs that start off promisingly (âLeaving New Yorkâ, âThe Outsidersâ) either outstay their welcome or take ill-advised detours.
‘Up’ (1998)
R.E.M. were always unpredictable but, coming off the back of âNew Adventures In Hi-Fiââs bold cinematic soundscapes and the shock of Berryâs departure, âUpâ was probably the hardest to predict. The recordâs ponderous tempos, electronic flourishes and drum machines feel very 1998 and speak to a band that viewed Berry less as someone to be replaced and more as a lost limb that meant learning a new way to live. Occasionally âUpâ throws out a song that causes the ears to jolt to attention, such as the gorgeous âDaysleeperâ or the sweetly droning âFalls To Climbâ. Otherwise, itâs too middling and murky to leave much of an impression.
‘Reveal’ (2001)
Lead single âImitation Of Lifeâ and opening track âThe Liftingâ raised hopes for a return to classic R.E.M. jangle pop, and while thereâs enough to elevate âRevealâ over its more experimental predecessor, the album suffers from the fussiness, sterility and lack of true emotional connection that affected so much of R.E.Mâs work from âUpâ to âAround The Sunâ. Thereâs nothing especially off-putting about âRevealâ, but beyond a few real highlights (âImitation Of Lifeâ, âShe Just Wants To Beâ and the desert twang of âAll The Way To Renoâ), itâs quickly forgettable.
‘Collapse Into Now’ (2011)
It would have been one of the great tragedies in music history if R.E.M. had surrendered with the whimper of âAround The Sun’, so itâs to their credit that they somehow found the impetus to reinvigorate themselves for their final two albums and call it a day with heads held high. âCollapse Into Nowâ is never going to be regarded as highly as âReckoningâ or âAutomaticâ, but it showcases a band that still has blood running through their veins, especially on the livewire opener âDisappearâ, a spiritual cousin to âThe Wake-Up Bombâ and âSo Fast, So Numbâ.
‘Accelerate’ (2008)
 If the R.E.M. story can be separated into three volumes (their first label I.R.S Records, the classic Warner Bros era in the mid-to-late â90s and post-Berry), then âAccelerateâ is the unquestionable high point of book three. After hitting their nadir with âAround The Sunâ, the band once again defied expectations and returned with a record that sounded more like R.E.M. than they had in over a decade. âAccelerateâ is a lean, streamlined rocker of a record, leaning into the bandâs strengths instead of stubbornly rejecting them. âLiving Well Is The Best Revengeâ has more spit and vinegar than the bandâs last three records combined, Peter Buckâs distorted Rickenbacker ringing out like a call to arms. Even when the pace lets up (such as the superb âHoustonâ), R.E.M. still feel revitalised and rejuvenated. Itâs the musical equivalent of when Thierry Henry temporarily returned to Arsenal and scored the winner in a cup tie against Leeds United. Not quite the glory days, but a victory nonetheless.
‘Monster’ (1994)
And so to one of the most divisive records in R.E.M.âs catalogue. âMonsterâ has suffered from a host of misconceptions since its release 25 years ago. Itâs often viewed as a commercial disaster, even though it went triple-Platinum in the UK and quadruple Platinum in America â although a lot of those ended up in charity shops and second-hand record stores. Itâs also wrongly viewed as R.E.M.âs grunge record, landing at the height of the Seattle gold rush with fuzzed out guitars and a song about Kurt Cobain. In truth, âMonsterâ finds Stipe and co. delving into glam-rock in a dramatic about-face from the brooding, acoustic âAutomatic For The Peopleâ. It doesnât always work, but when it does (âWhatâs The Frequency, Kenneth?â, âStrange Currenciesâ, âLet Me Inâ) it works like gangbusters.
‘Green’ (1988)
âGreenâ is about 75% brilliant and 25% irritating. Focus on the irritating quarter and youâve got all the warning signs for âShiny Happy Peopleâ. Focus on the rest and youâve got âWorld Leader Pretendâ, âYou Are The Everythingâ, âOrange Crushâ and âTurn You Inside Outâ, essentially the blueprint for R.E.M.âs imminent world domination. It showed that the band could court the mainstream without losing the essence of what made them so unique in the first place.Â
‘Out Of Time’ (1991)
Many fans werenât ready for their college rock darlings to become overnight pop stars, which would explain why so much animosity remains towards âGreenâ and âOut Of Timeâ. But even âOut Of Timeââs missteps still have an element of charm, even if listening to the tongue-in-cheek âRadio Songâ now is an exploration to the furthest reaches of cringe. The debate over âShiny Happy Peopleâ will rage forever, but the record also finds R.E.M. hitting dizzying heights with the irresistible âLosing My Religionâ, the pop perfection of âNear Wild Heavenâ and the awe-inspiring âCountry Feedbackâ â perhaps the best song they ever recorded.
‘Fables Of The Reconstruction’ (1985)
With stronger, meaner production, thereâs a chance âFablesâ would be much, much higher in this list and in most fansâ estimation. The songcraft is all there, especially on career highlights such as âCanât Get There From Hereâ (which showcases the bandâs knack for pulling a huge chorus out of thin air), âDriver 8â, âLife And How To Live Itâ and âGreen Grow The Rushesâ. Itâs just a huge shame that the thin production (from Nick Drake and Fairport Convention producer Joe Boyd) robs the music of any impact.
‘New Adventures In Hi-Fi’ (1996)
Recorded at soundchecks and in mobile studios during and shortly after the tour that very nearly killed R.E.M., âNew Adventuresâ is the bandâs last great record. What stands out is how unified and coherent the album feels, considering it was recoded in such a transient, piecemeal fashion. The big rock numbers land better than most of their equivalents on âMonsterâ â especially the full throttle âDepartureâ â while some of the quieter moments are on a par with R.E.M.âs best; not least the ominous âE-Bow The Letterâ and the tender sweetness of âElectroliteâ and âBe Mineâ. The centrepiece, however, is the epic âLeaveâ, R.E.M.âs longest song and one of their finest moments. âNew Adventures In Hi-Fiâ is the sound of the band letting the music take them where it wants and ends up looser and more vibrant than anything else post-âÂAutomatic For The Peopleâ.
‘Document’ (1987)
‘Document’ is so nearly R.E.M.âs finest hour, but for a side B that doesnât quite match the exhilarating rush of side A. But, boy, that run from âFinest Worksongâ to âItâs The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)â is one of the best sides of an LP in existence. R.E.M. come out of the gate sounding like they mean business. Stipeâs vocals are front and centre, Bill Berryâs drums sound enormous, Peter Buckâs guitar snarls and chimes in all the right places and Mike Millsâ backing vocals are given the space they deserve. Where 1986âs âLifeâs Rich Pageantâ gave the band a commercial, rock radio sheen, âDocumentâ dials it back just enough to let their idiosyncrasies creep back in, especially on the wonderfully restless âExhuming McCarthyâ. That a record this good only just cracks the top five says all you need to know about their extraordinarily high standards in that initial era.
‘Lifes Rich Pageant’ (1986)
 R.E.M.âs fourth record now feels like a blueprint for their fifth. Paring things back after the overly fussy âFablesâ, R.E.M. again changed producer, teaming up with the slightly incongruous Don Gehman (the man responsible for John Mellencampâs megahits âHurts So Goodâ and âJack and Dianeâ). The result was the bandâs heaviest rocking album, announcing itself in no uncertain style with âBegin The Beginâ, a muscle car of a song that sounded unlike anything the band had done up to that point. For the first time you could actually hear what Michael Stipe was singing and Gehman pinpointed the bandâs secret weapon â Bill Berry â and made his jittery drumming the focal point. The band would strike a finer balance between their indie sensibilities and rock bluster on âDocumentâ, but the songwriting here is simply flawless, featuring some of the bandâs best ever songs, such as âFall On Meâ, âThese Daysâ and âSwan Swan Hâ.
 ‘Automatic For The People’ (1992)
After seven albums and one EP of infectious, jangly indie rock, itâs somewhat curious that R.E.M. became the biggest band on the planet off the back of a quiet, brooding, mostly acoustic record that ruminates on death and departure. âEverybody Hurtsâ and âThe Sidewinder Sleeps Toniteâ suffered from their omnipresence in 1992, but 27 years breathing space has allowed them to stand on their own feet as two of the finest pop singles of the â90s. Maybe itâs the videos to âDriveâ and âMan On The Moonâ or maybe itâs just the cover art, but âAutomatic For The Peopleâ feels like a resolutely monochrome record, punctuated by occasional bursts of colour, the recordâs dark clouds making the sunshine feel all the brighter. In hindsight, itâs unsurprising that R.E.M. changed tack so dramatically for âMonsterâ. Thereâs just no improving on this.
‘Murmur’ (1983)
Itâs so easy to overlook just how exceptional âMurmurâ seemed when it was released in 1983. The âChronic Townâ EP suggested that R.E.M. were a band to watch, but even that early taster didnât hint at the fully formed brilliance to come. âRadio Free Europeâ sets that to rights. From the eerie, atmospheric intro to Stipeâs enigmatic mumbling on the verse to the radiant chorus, itâs everything thatâs wonderful about R.E.M. laid bare in one astoundingly great song. âMurmurâ is the sound of a band that began life as one of the best in the world. It just took the world a decade to catch up.
‘Reckoning’ (1984)
Some bands might take exception to their first two records being regarded as their best. But not all bands kick off with a one-two like âMurmurâ and âReckoningâ. In truth, the top five records on this list could be rearranged in any given order on any given day and still be objectively correct. R.E.M. were so restless and eclectic from record to record that itâs hard to declare any one record their absolute best.
But âReckoningâ holds a special place in this writer’s heart that keeps it eternally a nose ahead of the competition. It could be the rolling, toe-tapping â(Donât Go Back To) Rockvilleâ. It could be the grin-inducing intro to â7 Chinese Brothersâ. It could be how Stipeâs mumble, Berryâs jittery drumming, Millsâ winding basslines and Buckâs arpeggios seem to be all part of one symbiotic organism. Or it could just be the fact that âReckoningâ is the most fun R.E.M record ever.
First published in 2020
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