R.E.M. 7: Green

It was a fleeting, fascinating time when your favorite band would put out a new album, an eternal year after the last one, and full of anticipation at “what’ll they sound like this time?” you’d sit listening to it over and over again, digesting it, trying to figure where it fit in the pantheon of all that had gone before.

Particularly after the water-treading that was U2’s Rattle & Hum, this was what it was like to experience Green, the new R.E.M. album, released on Election Day 1988 on the verge of the third term of the Reagan administration. It was a big deal for the band, having graduated to Warner Bros. while retaining the producer from their last album. (Not to be outdone, their previous label put out the Eponymous “hits” collection a month in advance, complete with such rarities as the original indie single version of “Radio Free Europe”, a couple of alternate takes and a song used in a movie nobody saw but this commentator, though he’d be happy to be proved otherwise.)

Despite their growing accessibility, there was still a mystery about R.E.M., and as it was becoming easier to understand the words coming out of Stipe’s mouth, it was also easier to concoct wacky theories about their meaning. For the first few months of owning Green we were convinced that it was a concept album sung from the point of view of a disabled and/or retarded child, which only sounded dumber the more we expounded on it. But think about it: “Pop Song 89” is a collection of simple statements, followed by “Get Up”, an escape from dreaming complete with a musical box interlude. “You Are The Everything”—the first overt use of mandolin on an R.E.M. album—looks back to simpler times when you could stretch out in the back seat of a car. The near-nursery rhyme “Stand” would soon become everyone’s least favorite song. Stipe held “World Leader Pretend”, a view of war from a little green army men perspective, to be so important that he actually printed the lyrics in the packaging. And once you get to the competing vocals in “The Wrong Child”, it’s a little unsettling.

“Orange Crush” wasn’t the best choice for lead single, and its title doesn’t help; basically it’s a more mercenary approach to “World Leader Pretend”. Things get really loud on “Turn You Inside Out”, with Mike Mills yelling his harmony in the background. The real standout is “Hairshirt”, one of the band’s prettiest and simplest yet most baffling songs. “I Remember California” follows a doom-laden riff through a foreboding premonition of the end times. It’s the last song listed on the back of the CD case, but wait! Didn’t we see the number 11 on the disc itself, next to a blank space and a time listing? Why yes, there’s another song on the album. Based around the most basic of drum beats—played by Peter Buck, as Bill Berry insisted that it was impossible “to play that stupidly for that long”—the song is listed at the band’s website as “Untitled”, but copyrighted as “11”. It incorporates more intertwined lyrics, and one of the most tender benedictions ever, suitable for all formal occasions: “I made a list of things to say/But all I want to say/All I really want to say is/Hold her and keep him strong/While I’m away from here.”

Familiarity ate away at Green’s luster over time, and the ubiquity of the hits tends to keep it on the shelf. But when taken down for a spin, the better parts still emerge, and it’s hard to believe that it was so long ago. At the same time, it’s easy to see where they’d take themselves over the next few years.

First, however, they toured, and most of a concert from Greensboro—conveniently enough for the packaging—makes up the bonus disc in the 25th Anniversary Deluxe Edition (a further five issued as a Record Store Day vinyl exclusive). The band is tight and driven, showing that the new songs were made for the stage, but maybe it’s the months on the road that make some of the backing vocals a little rusty. He’s not credited anywhere, but Peter Holsapple did add some voice and instrumentation on that tour, so maybe we can blame him. Still, his presence makes it possible for them to play “Perfect Circle”. Also, to show they hadn’t been resting, we even get sneak previews in the form of “Belong” and “Low”.

R.E.M. Eponymous (1988)—4
R.E.M. Green (1988)—3½
2013 25th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 1988, plus 21 extra tracks