tom9thomas9The return of REM von „The Sunday Times“
Last night, at a top-secret London bar (Bureau, 13 Kingly Court, London, W1B 5PW to be precise), REM’s 15th studio album was played back to a natter of industry types who may or not own the band’s debut Chronic Town EP, writes Jonathan Dean. The new record is Collapse into Now and has been described pre-release by band members as sounding like Automatic for the People. That record shifted a few million units. Will Collapse do the same?
No, of course it won’t. Automatic was the album every mum liked (15 million copies worldwide) and ever since its 1992 release, the band have produced little to please fans of that softer acoustic folky side. It’s fair to say, for instance, that anyone lured in by the utilitarian pop of Everybody Hurts probably doesn’t do karaoke to 1994’s Tongue, with its sordid motel tales of sex and sperm.
Collapse into Now then is REM’s (final?) attempt to woo back the millions. The good news then is that on first, confused, listen in a bar where people seemed more interested in the rib racks than Rickenbackers, there were hints that at least a couple of thousand may come back to the Georgians’ fold.
For on Überlin, Oh My Heart, It Happened Today and Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brando and I, there is a return to that softer acoustic folky side barely heard for the best part of two decades. The songs roll and reflect much like Automatic’s Try Not to Breathe or, in the case of Überlin, Drive. What’s more, Every Day is Yours to Win carries an Eels-like riff so delicate it’s the prettiest thing they’ve done since Up’s At My Most Beautiful – perhaps the last song fairweather fans know and like.
Most interesting though is the last track, Blue. With Stipe talking like he does on Out of Time’s Low and Patti Smith reprising her E-Bow the Letter coo, it’s a haunting, beautiful, epic end to Collapse into Now, showing up new songs such as Alligator Aviator Autopilot Antimatter – a straightforward polished rocker that seems to resort to titular meaningless to recapture the bafflement of Stipe’s early lyrics.
AAAA though, to be fair, would sound immense live in somewhere small and dingy, in an indoor venue nobody would even consider calling a stadium. As it is, when REM inevitably play the O2 later in 2011, the song – much like many of those on Collapse – will be used by couply concertgoers to amble to the bar in readiness for the Man on the Moon encore.
If REM were, say, U2 – a band who decided long ago to keep all their fans and never be interesting again – Collapse into Now would be another multi-million seller treading the same old, same old since 1992’s Automatic. As it is, it’s a record for the band to grow old gracefully with, making music perhaps more reflective of their age, perhaps pulling back a few fans for the pension and, with songs like the excellent Mine Smell Like Honey, offering enough nods to 1980s glories to keep those who have stuck by their side entertained.“
pretentious shmock!
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