Pilgrimage

Man, I just love this song. How do I love it? Let me count the ways:

1. A guitar-driven band starting the second track on their 1st album with a piano riff, doubled with the bass.
2. The effect of a crazy time signature (it's really 4/4 throughout, just feels off kilter).
3. The southern religious imagery of speaking in tongues and pilgrimage.
4. The lyric "your hate, clipped and distant".
5. The big lift at the chorus, and how it demands you sing along.
6. The punchy staccato bridge.
7. Everything going on with the background vocals.
8. The messy alternate chorus near the end.

Radio Free Europe

So here it is - the first single, REM's big public outing, the first real splash into pop culture, and frankly I don't really care for this song. I'm sure that's heresy to some, but c'mon, listen to it objectively and ask yourself if it's the best cut on Murmur. Not even close. It's got a jaunty little chorus, but the boys break the cardinal rule of pop songs - the chorus doesn't show up until 1:40 into the song!

I do remember long before I had ever heard of REM or considered myself a fan, Alex Bennett used to play this single on his morning show on KMEL. And I suppose like the young comedians Bennett had on who went on to bigger and better things, "Radio Free Europe" is something of a starting point.

I think the final word on this comes from my daughter who overheard me play the song while writing this. She asks, "Is that a song you made up on 'Garage Band'?" Ouch.

"Murmur"

Continuing our circuitous route through the REM catalog, we pause now at their first full-length studio album, Murmur. What's with the random order (thus far, Pageant, Reckoning, and Chronic Town)? Well, I am more or less going in the order of my own exposure to the band's stuff when I became a fan in the 80s.

I seem to recall hearing (from Tad maybe?) that according to Stipe Murmur was so-named because it is one of the easiest words in the English language to say. For that matter, I guess we can count ourselves lucky that the record wasn't called Knob or Lamprey. Nonetheless, the real beauty of the album is the space the band and producers allowed themselves, both aural and linear. Here are twelve tracks - some murky and mysterious, some wry and fun - wherein the whole is truly greater than the sum of the parts. This is a complete project that highlights the range of a young band on the edge of greatness. REM's southern folk roots share the same vinyl with forward-looking post-punk alt rock. Time to crawl through the kudzu.