Pop Song 89

Green kicks off with a shiny little number. "Pop Song" delivers what it promises - cheery, poppy lines led by Pete's buoyant guitar riff throughout. The music serves the lyrics well as Michael sings about struggling to have meaningful conversation. It's easier to keep our chats bouncy and light, like the song: I think I can remember your name, should we talk about the weather? But underneath the poppy conversations, we may wonder if we have lost ourselves.

Musically, there are some gems that I really love on this tune. Dig the split-octave vocal doubling. Dig the handclaps on the bridge. But most off all, dig the fat seventies fuzz guitar on the three note break as the song is winding down.

I know you never knew that it could be so strange.

Green

With the release of their sixth studio LP, REM had a larger label and a larger audience, which meant a larger paycheck. Jumping the indie/college radio ship to mega-corporate monster Warner Bros. resulted in the inevitable cry of "sell out" from the fans. But to borrow Morgan Spurlock's line, there's selling out, and then there's buying in. REM was definitely buying in with Green.

Green is a cheeky album, and our Georgian lads were well aware of the skepticism the departure from IRS would create. The album oozes irony: a disc titled "Green" with bright orange cover art, the first track on the album is called "Pop Song 89", the uber-cheesy “Stand” has not one but two key changes. And yet Green is no toss-off album. It shines in places with touches of real honest, creative song crafting.

I don’t know any REM fan who holds up Green as their favorite album in the catalog, but then again I don’t know many who wouldn’t sing along with all earnestness to tunes like “World Leader Pretend” and “The Wrong Child.” If anything else, Green is ambitious – here is a band not so much with something to prove, but with a whole lot to gain.

Oddfellows Local 151

Document wraps up with something of a cliche REM deep cut: minor key, simple but heavy riff, random Stipe-of-consciousness lyric. In fact, it's a little like "The One I Love"'s less attractive sister - complete with a fire-related lift at the chorus.

But all in all, not a bad way to finish up their IRS years. REM will have some great moments post-Document, but they will never be the same band. Good bye-college radio, hello Pop Song 89.

King of Birds

Let me back up and get a running start on this one. I began this project of chronicling every REM song from a conflicted place. The most salient band of my teens and twenties had become an irrelevant voice in my thirties and forties. No hard feelings - we all just grew up. But wading once again through these old songs, I’m reminded how singular and unique this band was.

King of Birds is a beautiful showcase for Michael Stipe’s vocals. Not to take anything away from the rest of the band’s efforts, in fact it is truly a collaborative effort. But this is a singer’s song, and the space Stipe occupies here is unmatched in pop vocals.

So much of the tune drives and drones, like some of the chant-like songs on “Fables”. But it’s texture and restraint that Michael conveys, his strains urgent and full of youth, but never spilling over into the quirky. Vocals echo and call back to one another while vowels are held to the breaking point.

The pre-Warner Bros. REM often and rightly got praise for being the essential college radio band with the odd-ball front man, but recognizing the true rareness of Stipe as a singer, as so clearly seen in this tune, is a blind spot in most appraisals.

Lightin' Hopkins

On one hand, clearly a late-on-the-album filler song, yet still some worthwhile pieces: The over-modulated drums zipping back and forth in stereo sounds like a kid in a production class who got a hold of a studio for the first time. Michael's snarky vocals have a proto-punk flavor. I really like the urgent guitar frenzy between the verses - nothing fancy, just well done. And of course in the category of "lyrics that don't really mean anything, they just sound cool," an honorable mention goes to: Lowlands/Timberland/Badland/Birdland

The producers of "Peter Gunn" might have something to say about the bridge riff, however...

Fireplace

A hidden gem on the B side of "Document", this tune feels as if it were built around the hesitant snap of the drum pattern. Lyrically, it's somewhat repetitive, but when you have evocative lines like, "hang up your chairs to better sweep/clear the floor to dance/shake the rug into the fireplace" I think it bears repeating.

One oddity featured here is the occasional penchant the boys have to include a sax solo. Sometimes the sax works, (hi there, Can't Get There From Here), sometimes it's just part of the orchestration (going for Baroque in Endgame), or as in this song where it's striving for riffiness, ala Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street. Watch for the REM-Kenny G Christmas album soon.