Buzzcocks "Singles Going Steady" 1977-1979(rec) 1979(comp)*****

Over the last year, I've been lucky enough to catch some punk legends I loved as a teenager—and still do, for that matter. Last summer, it was The Undertones, The Damned, and the Sex Pistols. True, the Pistols without Johnny Rotten are a far cry from the original experience, but the new guy—I believe his name is Frank Carter—was enthusiastic and clearly determined to give the audience a good time. Let's face it: would you rather have a frontman who dives into the crowd and leads the audience in a chorus like a football chant, or a standoffish, sarcastic one? ("Ever get the feeling you've been cheated? Ha ha.") Then, last March, it was the Buzzcocks' turn at Haarlem's Patronaat. I would have loved to see them with original frontman Pete Shelley, but unfortunately we lost him some seven years ago. Rather than hiring a soundalike, guitarist Steve Diggle took over vocal duties as well. His voice is harsher, which—combined with the band's high-energy playing—resulted in a noisier, punkier sound than the Buzzcocks had in their prime. His voice was a much better fit for the band's newer, more classic rock-oriented material. We enjoyed that too, even though most of the audience had come to hear the classic 70's punk-pop singles. When we returned home, I went looking for my copy of Singles Going Steady. In my youth, I had played the vinyl to death; later, I bought the CD edition, which included a handful of bonus tracks, though none I remember with much fondness. Imagine my surprise when I couldn't find either. During the Great Vinyl Purge, plenty of albums that I also owned on CD found their way to second-hand shops, but where had the CD gone? Never mind—I just had to have this album, so I went online and ordered the 45th Anniversary vinyl edition through my local record store. After a month, they admitted defeat and refunded my money. In the end, I visited the shop in person and picked up the standard Domino reissue instead: the same remastering, but on plain black vinyl, with none of the bells and whistles. It still comes with a nice booklet and is mastered at half speed for improved sound quality. Audiophile punk—Who knew it would ever come to this?

The story of the Buzzcocks actually begins with the Sex Pistols. In February 1976, Bolton students Howard Devoto and Pete Shelley read the first description of a Sex Pistols gig in the music press, and felt they had to witness the band first hand. They travelled to London to catch them live, and immediately decided they'd form a band. They managed to persuade the Pistols to come to Manchester for a historic concert. Hardly anyone attended, but many of those who did went on to form bands themselves - and those include Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths, the Fall, Magazine, and, of course, the Buzzcocks. After an independently released EP, Devoto left to form Magazine, prompting Pete Shelley to step into the vocalist role and Steve Diggle to take over on guitar. The band's first single, "Orgasm Addict", was an ode to teenage compulsive masturbation. The influence of the Sex Pistols is evident, both in its sound and its provocative subject matter. The Buzzcocks would soon outgrow their mentors and forge a distinctive style of their own, one that traded sarcasm for romance and combined the melodic instincts of the Beatles with the speed and power of the Ramones. Singles Going Steady was originally conceived as an introduction to the band for the American market and was initially released only in the United States. Side One collects the A-sides of the band's first eight singles in chronological order, while Side Two gathers the corresponding B-sides. The result is one of the strongest singles compilations of the punk era. Every track on Side One is a punk-pop gem. Shelley's lyrics focus on difficult relationships, romantic frustration and unrequited love, while the music's relentless energy is balanced by his high-pitched, tremulous voice, which lends the songs an unexpected vulnerability. Their arguably greatest song, "Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've Fallen in Love With)?", perfectly blends sharp guitars, heartache and an unforgettable chorus. As was often the case with Shelley, the lyrics avoid specifying the gender of the object of affection, making the song more easily relateable. Morrissey would later use much the same trick with the Smiths. The emotional confusion and longing at the song's heart may be universal, but the title made even more sense to me when I later learned that Shelley was bisexual. Side One closes with "Harmony in My Head", another highlight. Written and sung by Diggle, it pairs an infectious melody with a slightly heavier, more stomping rhythm and soaring guitars. If Side Two, comprising the band's B-sides, is a little lighter on killer hooks, it makes up for it with a more adventurous sound. From the rude punk blast of "Oh Shit!" to "Something's Gone Wrong Again" and its (Stooges-inspired?) insistent one-note piano riff, to the relatively bright punk-pop of "Lipstick" and "Noise Annoys", the band displays a far greater stylistic range than the exquisitely crafted A-sides might suggest. They become even more experimental on the six-and-a-half-minute kraut-funk marathon "Why Can't I Touch It?", while "Autonomy" points towards a darker post-punk future, sounding closer to Magazine or Gang of Four than to the Ramones. Now, listening to the album again confirms my feeling that I needed to add this LP to my collection again, as soon as possible. Compilations are often afforded less importance than proper studio albums, but this is one of the exceptions. More than a collection of radio-friendly singles, it distils everything that made the Buzzcocks unique: punk's urgency tempered by vulnerability, youthful romantic confusion transformed into perfect pop songs, unforgettable melodies, and even a sense of experimentation for which the band is not always associated with. Seeing the Steve Diggle-led version of the band earlier this year made me realize that, in the space of just a few short years, the Buzzcocks built a remarkable songbook. Diggle is a very different singer from Pete Shelley, yet the songs lose none of their power in his hands. Partly because he clearly believes in them, but mainly because they are such brilliantly crafted pieces of songwriting. More than simply the distillation of the band's essence, Singles Going Steady is one of a dozen or so punk albums that no rock collection should be without.

***** for What Do I Get?, I Don't Mind, Love You More, Ever Fallen In Love?, Harmony In My Head, Noise Annoys, Something's Gone Wrong Again

**** for Orgasm Addict, Promises, Everybody's Happy Nowadays, What Ever Happened To?, Autonomy, Just Lust, Lipstick, Why Can't I Touch It?

*** for Oh Shit!

Mutantes "Live - Barbican Theatre, London, 2006" 2007****

Another band I never expected to see live, I discovered Os Mutantes around the turn of the millennium, when Luaka Bop released a compilation of their 1960s material. It received rave reviews, and after hearing it myself I couldn’t help but agree: this eclectic, whimsical and experimental yet often poppy mix sounded as exciting and unique as anything from the era. The band disbanded in the early 1970s, having achieved little recognition outside their native Brazil until the Luaka Bop compilation introduced them to a new international audience. A few years later their albums were reissued on CD — and eventually vinyl as well — while a partially reunited lineup celebrated the band’s 40th anniversary with a major London concert, documented on the CD/DVD release reviewed here. The following years brought sporadic new albums and live appearances by a version of the band led by original guitarist Sergio Dias. They rarely venture into Europe, so last year’s Amsterdam performance — their first Dutch show since 2016 — felt unmissable. They no longer wear outlandish costumes onstage, and, at 75, Sergio Dias isn't in great shape physically, singing and playing seated for most of the show, but his guitar work remained superb, with echoes of Hendrix and Santana throughout. The band alternated between proggy psychedelia and pure pop (e.g. "Baby"). The harmonies were as strong as ever, while Esméria Bulgari handled the lead vocals admirably. Rita Lee, of course, who left the band in 1972 and died in 2023 remains irreplaceable. The other great absentee was Sergio’s brother, Arnaldo Baptista: he has often struggled with mental health issues linked to his past excessive LSD use, and took his leave from the band, long ago.

He nevertheless can be heard on this live CD, alongside Dias, original drummer Dinho Leme, and guest singer Zélia Duncan. Esméria Bulgari was also present on this occasion, albeit only as a backing singer. As I mentioned earlier, Os Mutantes have always been a very peculiar band, drawing on everything from Beatlesy pop and bossa nova to ballads and psychedelic rock, all filtered through a lens of whimsy and anarchic humor not unlike that of the Bonzo Dog Band—while sounding nothing like them in practice. Such eclecticism often left them difficult to categorize. For many years they were mentioned—if at all—only as part of the Tropicália movement, which also included more celebrated Brazilian artists like Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa, and Tom Zé. This was too restrictive, since all of those artists were closer to Brazilian musical traditions, whereas Os Mutantes explored a much wider range of styles. This live CD manages to encapsulate most of them, making it one of the best entry points into the band's music. The performances are uniformly strong, while the arrangements benefit from a fuller band and generally sound more polished than the original versions. Some listeners may miss the rough edges of the originals, but I believe very little is lost in the process. Opener "Don Quixote" is an impressive psychedelic mess, incorporating everything from an orchestral fanfare to the band's signature harmonies and Dias' electric-guitar outbursts. This is followed by "Virginia", a charming Beatlesque ballad. The pace then picks up with a pair of upbeat Latin rockers: "Cantor de Mambo"—reminiscent of Santana and featuring some first-rate electric guitar in this live rendition—and "El Justicero". Hilariously, Tony Blair and "Jorge" Bush are portrayed as Old West gunslingers in the song's intro. The mood changes once again with the exotic, chilled-out bossa nova of "Baby" and "I'm Sorry Baby", both sung in English. Later, "Dia 36" and "Ave Lucifer" drift by as stoned psychedelic ballads awash in vocal distortion and spaced-out effects, while "Fuga No. 11" and "Balada do Louco" evoke a dreamlike meeting point between Gilberto Gil and John Lennon. The acoustic "Le premier bonheur du jour" adds a Rennaissence flavor, while "I Feel a Little Spaced Out" (original Portuguese title was "Ando Meio Desligado") perfectly embodies the sound of The Summer of Love: Imagine throwing The Zombies, Jefferson Airplane, early Pink Floyd, and the soundtrack to Hair! into a blender and ending up with something surprisingly coherent. As the concert nears its end, Os Mutantes showcase their riotous carnivalesque side on "A Minha Menina" and "Bat Macumba" before bowing out with an ecstatic English-language rendition of "Panis et Circenses" that once again recalls The Beatles circa Sgt. Pepper. The above track listing corresponds to my own (UK) version of the album, which combines a single CD and DVD video. There is also a US double-CD edition that adds five songs but omits the visual content. Those tracks are reinstated on my DVD, which also includes a short documentary, video clips from the concert and rehearsals, and a photo gallery. The DVD offers both stereo and surround-sound audio options, as well as subtitles for the lyrics. To be honest, neither the video quality nor the surround mix is particularly impressive, which means I find myself returning to the CD far more often than the DVD. Now, I know that many fans may find Rita Lee's absence difficult to overlook, English translation of the lyrics somewhat incongruous, and the band's live sound a little too down-to-earth for their liking. For myself, I believe that Live In Barbican, 2006 successfully captures the eclecticism, humor, musicianship, and sense of adventure that made Os Mutantes so special in the first place. For newcomers, it serves as an ideal introduction; for existing fans, it's a rewarding celebration of this unique band. Having finally seen the band in concert, I can confirm that, sixty years on, the magic is still there.

***** for Cantor de Mambo, Baby, I Feel a Little Spaced Out

**** for Virginia, El justiciero, I'm Sorry Baby,  Dia 36, Fuga Nº II, Ave Lucifer, Balada do Louco, A Minha Menina, Bat Macumba, Panis et Circenses

*** for Don Quixote, Le Premier Bonheur du Jour

Neville Brothers "Fiyo On The Bayou" 1980****

Did I actually know of this album before I spotted it in the bargain bin of my local record store? I’m not entirely sure. I remember thinking, “I should get this—it’s a classic New Orleans soul album”. But was I thinking of this record, or of Fire on the Bayou by The Meters? The mix-up is understandable: The song “Fire on the Bayou” appears on both LPs, they have almost identical titles, and both bands feature Art and Cyril Neville. Confusing, but no matter: whichever album one chooses to buy, it's money well spent. Fiyo On The Bayou opens with another Meters cover, “Hey Pocky Way,” a burst of New Orleans carnival energy—funky soul with Latin and Caribbean overtones. Side one continues strong with the groove-heavy “Sweet Honey Dripper” and “Fire on the Bayou.” The latter features backing vocals arranged by Cissy Houston, with her daughter (and future pop star) Whitney also contributing. Next comes “The Commandments of Love”, an old-fashioned 50s pop ballad. It may sound slightly out of place, but it gives Art Neville the chance to showcase a smooth, Sam Cooke-like vocal style. Side two highlights the band’s versatility. A soulful reggae take on “Sitting in Limbo” (originally by Jimmy Cliff) shows how comfortably they move between genres. They then return to familiar territory with a joyous Mardi Gras medley of “Brother John” and the Cajun staple “Iko Iko.” Dr. John, who had a minor hit with that old chestnut a few years back, guests here on keyboards, percussion, and backing vocals. After a fairly straightforward orchestral cover of Nat King Cole’s “Mona Lisa” the good doctor returns for “Run Joe”, a lively take on a Louis Jordan boogie-woogie number, spiced up with Caribbean flavors. Overall, this is an excellent album, notable for how effortlessly The Neville Brothers navigate different styles. I am especially fond of the traditional New Orleans elements here, which are executed very naturally, though the band is just as convincing when leaning into heavier funk The ballads feel slightly out of place, but they probably reflect Art Neville’s desire to pay tribute to his early influences. Now I just need to give a good listening to The Meters' Fire on the Bayou and decide which of the two I like best.

**** for Sweet Honey Dripper, Fire on the Bayou, Sitting in Limbo, Brother John / Iko Iko, Run Joe

*** for Hey Pocky Way, Ten Commandments of Love, Mona Lisa

Ella Mae Morse & Freddie Slack – Rockin' Brew 1942-1954 (rec) 1969 (comp)****

I found this LP in the bargain bin of my local record store. I wasn’t familiar with either Ella Mae Morse or Freddie Slack, but I did recognize several titles. Songs like “The House of Blue Lights,” “Money Honey,” and “Down the Road a Piece” are now rock’n’roll standards—I have versions by artists like Elvis Presley, The Rolling Stones, and Flamin' Groovies in my collection. These recordings, however, predate all of those covers—and even predate rock and roll itself. Despite the 1960s aesthetic of the sleeve, most of the tracks were originally released on 78 RPM records in the 1940s and early ’50s. The earliest, “Cow Cow Boogie” (1942), features a 17-year-old Ella Mae Morse backed by the Freddie Slack Orchestra. Slack, a pianist who had previously played with Jimmy Dorsey, appears on many of the recordings here, though not all. Although they are not credited on the album cover, some of the later tracks actually feature Big Dave's Orchestra rather than Slack's. Throughout the records one encounters country influences (e.g. "Cow Cow Boogie"), pop ballads (e.g. "I Love You, Yes I Do"), big band instrumentals ("Strange Cargo") and straight blues (e.g. "Buzz Me"). At its core though, this is danceable jazz music driven by rolling boogie-woogie piano. You could call it jump blues or boogie-woogie, but it often comes strikingly close to what would soon be labeled rock and roll. Tracks like “House of Blue Lights” (a 1945 Freddie Slack original) and “Down the Road a Piece” feature playful spoken interludes in ’40s hipster slang. "Money Honey" by Clyde McPhatter & the Drifters topped the R&B charts in 1953;  Ella Mae picked it right up, way before Elvis and the rest did. Interestingly, she was among the first white singers to appear on the “race records” (a category later renamed "R&B") charts: since radio listeners are oblivious to musicians' skin color, her music often crossed over more successfully with black than white audiences. She retired from recording in 1957, just as rock and roll was taking off. Despite considerable success in her time—according to the liner notes, her biggest seller “Blacksmith Blues” (1951) sold a million copies—she is not widely remembered today. There have nevertheless been a few reissues of her early work; this particular LP was released in 1969 by Specialty Records in the UK, as Capitol Records retained the rights in the United States. On, apparently, "Stereo Enhanced Mono" but also "playable on monaural gramophones". By now, of course, these recordings are -in Europe, at least- copyright free, so there are also some recent cheap CD reissues of her music available.

**** for Mister Five By Five, Blacksmith Blues, Pig Foot Pete, The House Of Blue Lights, Money Honey, Down The Road A Piece, Get Off It And Go, Have Mercy Baby, Cow Cow Boogie, Buzz Me

*** for Rock Me All Night Long, 40 Cups Of Coffee, Strange Cargo, I Love You Yes I Do

The Green Pajamas "This Is Where We Disappear" 2001****

Coincidentally, a few weeks ago I wrote about The Green Pajamas in a post on a Paisley Underground anthology box set—and thanks to random selection, here they are again. That compilation featured their early cult favorite “Kim the Waitress”; this time, we get “The Waitress at the Old White Lion.” (Really, does Jeff Kelly have some kind of waitress fixation?) This track is a tender ballad, built on gently strummed acoustic guitar, piano, and soft female backing vocals. It recalls early Pink Floyd pieces like “If” and “Green Is the Colour.” That same ’60s-tinged acoustic vibe runs through “Softly, Elizabeth,” “Would You Even Say Hello,” and “Spinning Away,” while “French to Japanese” adds a dash of McCartney-style pop charm with its old-fashioned jazzy piano. The lyrics, as in the excellent “Moorland Ghost,” often draw on the Gothic supernatural fiction of Wilkie Collins and Edgar Allan Poe, while musically the album leans toward British acid folk. It nevertheless doesn’t stay in that pastoral mode for long. Much of it expands into fuller arrangements that nudge things toward ’90s alternative rock—not grunge, but something closer to fellow Seattleites The Walkabouts. Drums and fuzzed-out bass and electric guitar appear often, most notably on the upbeat title track and garage rocker “Matilda,” while “Something’s Gone Wrong” even flirts with funk, complete with soulful bass and horns. “Downslide” stands out as an outlier: with Laura Weller’s vocals and electric guitar at the forefront, it resembles the goth/shoegaze sound of The Cranes. Elsewhere, “Sweet 16” plays it relatively straight as a pop tune, “Sweet Moth/36 Envelopes” drifts into darker territory, and “The Wave (It’s Becoming Very Clear)” closes things out with a neat trick—revisiting the opening lyrics but swapping fuzz guitars for something grander and more orchestral. The CD booklet includes enchanting original artwork by Susanne Kelly (the singer’s wife), along with lyrics and medieval woodcut prints. All in all, this is one of the most accessible albums from the incredibly prolific Jeff Kelly. By blending Paisley Underground neo-psychedelia with his fascination for Elizabethan folk and Gothic literature, he has carved out a distinctive, idiosyncratic style—one that should appeal to fans of Peter Hammill, Robyn Hitchcock, or Paul Roland.

**** for This Is Where We Disappear, Softly Elizabeth, The Moorland Ghost, French To Japanese, Matilda, Something's Gone Wrong, Spinning Away, Sweet Moth / 36 Envelopes, Downslide, The Wave (It's Becoming Very Clear)

*** for Secret Circle, Would You Even Say Hello, The Waitress At The Old White Lion, Sweet 16, Wild Desire

Vangelis & The New American Orchestra "Blade Runner" 1982**** vs. Vangelis "Blade Runner O.S.T." 1994*****

Citizen Kane my ass! Blade Runner is the best movie ever produced in the history of the medium! It renewed film noir and science fiction and stands as an unsurpassed landmark in both genres. And its influence stretches beyond film to other visual arts, design, advertising and literature: the Cyberpunk movement was SF's reaction to the unprecedented mix of high tech and low life, the twin reality of the gleaming Tyrell Corporation towers and crumbling Los Angeles ghettos. And although it didn't stick very close to Philip K. Dick's original story, its version of the future shared the writer's pessimism: No leisurely living thanks to the machines, at least not for everyone: While the rich enjoy the fruits of android slave labor, the bulk of humanity scrapes a living under the domination of huge corporations and police oppression. Murderous as these replicas are, you can't help but sympathize with them in their quest for...meaning? freedom? revenge? I suppose it's different things for each one. The film's music was no less revolutionary in its mix of jazz noir, electronic and symphonic music. Composer Vangelis Papathanasiou (known outside his native Greece just by his first name) was a veteran of the Greek pop scene, starting with his invention of the popular Yanka dance craze in the early 60's. He shot to international fame after his collaboration with Demis Roussos in the prog-pop Aphrodite's Child and had since become a pioneer of proto-electronic music. His music for the film "Chariots Of Fire" had already won him an Oscar and he deserved another one for "Blade Runner", but fell victim to the Academy's contempt for science fiction. Sounds improbable that an iconic film like Blade Runner would go on to win 0 (zero) Academy Awards, but there you have it. Despite the obvious appeal of the film's music, there was no official soundtrack release until 1994 - which is how this album came to being. Entitled Blade Runner - Orchestral Adaptation Of Music Composed For The Motion Picture Soundtrack, it's a recreation of some of Vangelis' original music from the film. For many years it served as O.S.T. for us fans and I must admit that, although I clearly heard that it wasn't exactly the same as the film, I hadn't realized it was a completely different work until recently. Which doesn't render it useless at all. It still displays that revolutionary mix of jazz and electronic music and it still conjures up scenes from the movie - which is a secondary but important function of film soundtracks. The opening "Love Theme" is an orchestral piece with late-night sax, romantic but thankfully not as corny as would be expected by its title. "Main Title" is another mellow tune featuring an orchestra, synthesizers and subtle acoustic elements like small bells. The next song entitled "One More Kiss, Dear" is the album's only vocal track and sounds like a 30's jazz tune, only it's not an original one. It was composed by Vangelis for the film but you wouldn't be able to tell the difference just by listening to it. "Memories Of Green" is an older Vangelis piece included in his See You Later album, a delicate piano tune with an orchestral backdrop. "End Title" and "End Title (Reprise)" are big electronic synthesizer music. Pretty much of their time, yet classic all the same. "Blade Runner Blues" is a melancholic jazz piece with a lonely sax playing over atmospheric synths and "Farewell" is another mellow orchestral/electronic mix, with a slightly oriental flavor. It may not be the best track in the album, but it always moves me because it reminds me of android Roy Batty's unforgettable farewell speech in the film: "All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"

***** for Memories Of Green, End Title

**** for Love Theme, Main Title, One More Kiss Dear, Blade Runner Blues, End Title (Reprise)

*** for Farewell

I wrote the above review in 2015. At the time I only had the CD of the NAO version of Vangelis' music for the film. Later, I bought the vinyl reissue of the real 1994 O.S.T. This was originally released in CD only, finally becoming widely available on vinyl in 2015, while there's one more version (the final word?) released as a triple CD under the title Blade Runner Trilogy.

For now, though, we'll focus on the 1994 O.S.T. and its differences with the NAO CD I presented here more than a decade ago. Obviously these are two very different records, the NAO one being a more orchestral work, and the original score a more electronic/synthesizer-based one. Opener "Main Titles" starts with a minute-long intro including spoken word followed by Vangelis' imposing synths, exactly what the opening sequence of the movie demanded with its futuristic cityscape, flames, and first glimpse of the Tyrell Corporation pyramid. Thaks to the absense of electronic instruments, the song "One More Kiss Dear" is the closest match between the two albums, although the OST vocal probably gives off a more vintage feel. "Memories of Green" (originally from 1980's See You Later LP) is a fragile piano-based piece, without the classical dimension of the orchestral version. The romantic "Love Theme" sounds superior here, with the sax providing the necessary smoky noir element to complement the atmospheric synths. "Blade Runner Blues" on the other hand is more ambient, and less jazzy, than the NAO version, and "End Title" (which was previously split in two) is presented in its whole, a majestic classic of early electronica. The NAO LP contained 7 tracks, of which only "Farewell" does not appear here. But, even though there's still a lot of the actual film music missing, we do get 6 tracks absent from the NAO version: "Blush Response" (complete with dialogue from the film) takes us back the first meeting between Deckard and Rachel, "Rachel's Song" features some gorgeous female vocalizing, and "Damask Rose" some cello-like synth emulating what sounds to me like a traditional Greek mountain village melody. "Wait For Me" is another atmospheric electronic piece incorporating film dialogue while "Tales Of The Future" contains a distorted vocal reminiscent of traditional Asian music. Closer "Tears In Rain" features some of the film's best dialogue with a suitably emotive instrumental backing. All in all, although the NAO version still sounds quite good, being orchestral it's curiously more like conventional film music than the actual OST. Vangelis' original music is way more interesting, with its futuristic synths, smoky jazz feel, and dialogue excerpts conveying the right atmosphere for this seminal sci-fi noir cinematic masterpiece. Most of the music could work well as a standalone piece of electronica, but combined with the stunning cinematography of Blade Runner, it makes for one of the greatest soundtracks of all time - in my opinion even better than Vangelis' Oscar-winning Chariots Of Fire.

Unbeatable, really.

***** for Love Theme, Blade Runner Blues, Memories Of Green, Blade Runner (End Titles), Tears In Rain

**** for Main Titles, Blush Response, Wait For Me, Rachel's Song, One More Kiss Dear

*** for Tales Of The Future, Damask Rose

R.E.M. "Up" 1998***

Strangely enough, after 10+ years, I haven’t yet reviewed a single R.E.M. album among the 20 or so in my collection (all of their studio LPs, plus some live albums and comps). I guess random selection can make mistakes, so it’s time to fix one of those. For that reason, I chose 1998’s Up. It may not be one of my favorites, but it reminds me of the first time I saw the band live in Athens—not their hometown of Athens, GA, but mine: Athens, Greece. The date was July 23, 1999. The support act, chosen by Stipe and co. themselves, was a Greek folk-rock band called Pyx Lax—hugely popular at the time, although I hadn’t seen them before either. I had my doubts about that choice, but they proved to be a good fit. Could R.E.M. outshine the local heroes? Everyone loved “Losing My Religion,” but their recent albums weren’t all that popular - in particular Up, with its more experimental sound. In the end, there was no contest; the opening trio (“Lotus,” “What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?” and “The Wake-Up Bomb”) may not have been anyone's favorite songs, but they were played with such energy that the crowd got carried away. Here’s a description from remtimeline.com: “At the front it was bedlam and although it never got dangerous, a couple of people made their way out of the mosh pit even before R.E.M. had begun the second verse... the crowd continued to replicate the energy displayed by the band... they continue to rock with all the vigour of the so-called ‘youthful’ bands emerging today and then some. Forty thousand Greek fans singing along word for word can’t be far wrong.”

As I said before, Up was never among R.E.M.’s most popular albums. It sold well enough, but that was mostly on the strength of the albums that preceded it. It was a strange time for the band; drummer Bill Berry had just quit, and they chose not to replace him, opting instead to experiment with various analogue synths and drum machines. The end result sounded very contemporary given the popularity of trip hop at the time, but not very R.E.M.—at least until the vocals were added at the very end of the creative process. Peter Buck's guitar, especially, is conspicuous by its (near) absence. “Airportman” is certainly an alienating opener for fans of the band, an understated ambient piece (is the title a nod to Eno’s Music for Airports?). Then “Lotus” comes in to hook listeners back; there may be no guitars, but it’s still an upbeat tune with a strong melody and a hooky chorus. “Suspicion” is a slow elegant piece, while “Hope” picks up the pace again, featuring electronic percussion and new-wavey synth lines, culminating in a noisy outro. “At My Most Beautiful” is an exquisite piano ballad, followed by “The Apologist,” which builds on a hypnotic, quasi-threatening rhythm and endless repetitions of “I’m sorry” that somehow sound less than sincere. “Walk Unafraid” is another relatively upbeat piece with ’80s-style electronic effects and melodic synth lines. “You’re in the Air” is atmospheric and string-laden, while “Why Not Smile” reminds me of their cover of the Velvet Underground’s “Pale Blue Eyes” years earlier. Together with “Suspicion,” “Daysleeper,” and the closing trio (“Diminished,” “Parakeet,” “Falls to Climb”), they could almost make for a trip-hop Automatic for the People. Tempo-wise, at least—only the lyrical “Daysleeper” could effortlessly fit into their 1991 masterpiece. Maybe they could have pushed further in that direction and released a whole album of slow ambient electronica. Or, alternatively, trimmed some of the moodier pieces to create a more sonically balanced record with poppy highs and atmospheric lows. But this was the late ’90s: with CD capacity nearing 80 minutes, anything shorter than an hour would feel like cheating the buying public. In any case, Up didn’t really signal a new direction for the band; if anything, they would rein in their experimental tendencies, releasing poppier, sunnier albums (Reveal, 2001) as well as angrier, punkier ones (Accelerate, 2008). Up remains an outlier in their discography—it almost sounds like a different band with Michael Stipe on guest vocals. Still, it makes for great listening: a few outstanding songs, and no real missteps.

**** for Lotus, Hope, At My Most Beautiful. The Apologist, Walk Unafraid, Why Not Smile, Daysleeper

*** for Airportman, Suspicion, Sad Professor, You're in the Air, Diminished, Parakeet, Falls to Climb