This is not a review I should write.
I find the best album reviews are the ones written by those with fresh ears, and any time I take on an assignment to critique a new release, I try and make sure I don’t know too much about the band or its music so as not to spend the review comparing it to what it’s done before.
I can’t do this with R.E.M., I’m not sure anyone can.
The long and varied life of R.E.M. is best summarized in three parts — 80s R.E.M., 90s R.E.M., and Bill Berry-less R.E.M. For the past 13 years, the latter R.E.M. has held court, and every album the trio of Mike Mills, Peter Buck and Michael Stipe has produced in that time is invariably compared to what was created in the first two acts. When I listen to a new R.E.M. album now I don’t hear songs as much as snippets of the past. I’m not saying this is bad, since R.E.M.’s past is so glorious, but it hardly seems a fair practice to do to a band trying to constantly forge new avenues of sound.
Tuesday’s release of Collapse Into Now is, of itself, a magnificent achievement. Many bands can’t claim a career of 31 years and 15 studio albums, and the fact R.E.M. continues to produce pertinent work says plenty. And make no mistake, this is a solid piece of music, containing flourishes which made this one of the best bands in the world. But in its search to rediscover itself it becomes its own mimic, and as much as I like songs that sound like outtakes from New Adventures in Hi-Fi and Out of Time, my immediate thought after hearing them is drop what I’m listening to and go listen to those albums.
For the most part, Collapse Into Now is a visit through 90s R.E.M., that four-album set that starts with 1991′s Out of Time and ends with New Adventures (yes, I know Up was in 1998, but remains Bill Berry-less). The guitar-infused Discoverer opens the record, and the ties to 1994′s Monster is inescapable. Stipe opens up with the words “This is not a challenge/Just means I love you” in perhaps a nod to this trip through nostalgia. Peter Buck is certainly loving this guitar crunching, which Monster was well-known for. It’s an interesting choice to open (and as you soon find out close) the album.
New Adventures gets its due on All the Best, as well as Every Day is Yours to Win (a song where I had a double-take, I thought for a second my iPod was on random and skipped to New Adventures). Good songs for sure, but again this throwback spirit is almost acknowledged by Stipe when he sings “It’s just like me to overstay my welcome.”
The true teeth of the album rests in Uberlin, Oh My Heart and It Happened Today, three songs in Collapse‘s media res (mandolin, thank you Peter) which group the best of R.E.M. — lovely guitar arrangements, touching melodies, and the magnificent pairing of Stipe’s and Mills’ voices. It Happened Today is the album’s best song — it simply soars despite its relative simplicity. I could listen to the last half of that song over and over again because it’s a reminder of why this band is so vital, it’s a sound it trademarked and brought to the world. Stunning.
I’m not sure what to make of the album’s remainder. The single Mine Smell Like Honey is quite one-off, there’s not much here that’s too memorable. Alligator Aviator Autopilot Antimatter is a fun song, with Peaches singing background vocals and playful guitar work by Patti Smith collaborator Lenny Kaye. I think the only reason I like That Someone Is You is that Stipe rhymes Casino with Al Pacino and ’74 Torino, but sometimes that’s enough.
The album-ending Blue, has me going back and forth. It opens with the haunting guitar reminiscent of Out of Time‘s Country Feedback (the best song on that album), and Stipe’s stream of conscious lyrics layered over Patti Smith’s voice is an inventive turn. But it’s such a reminder of Country Feedback it comes across as its weaker brother (think Fredo to his brother Michael). It gives me pause. And why the song goes back to Discoverer is a mystery – maybe in some way the band is attempting to tie the work together.
And therein rests the problem.
As opposed to other albums in its R.E.M.’s catalog, Collapse Into Now doesn’t have a unified feel. Buck is on record saying he likes every song, and there’s much to like here. But together the album doesn’t gel, it’s more a collection of songs tied to other eras than a consolidated effort.
It must be difficult to break new barriers when you’ve broken so many before.
