Say what you want about Green – the first R.E.M album for the Warner Bros. corporate label, a move that would very easily be categorised under that dreaded term “sell out” – but the band certainly did not rest on the laurels that got them that attention in the first place. In terms of studio mandating it would have been easy for the band to make Document Pt.2. But in terms of the band, and of all of its contrasting glory, they clearly did not want to do that. With the artist-friendly contract they had signed into, they wanted to have some fun.
The albums always tend to contrast each other and make themselves unique in the R.E.M canon, but it actually quite shocking how different Green and Document are. This is not just in sonic terms, where the band began to incorporate the accordions, organs and mandolins that would serve the template for their future work. In fact, a lot of the album’s most famous songs are guitar led tracks wouldn’t sound too out of place from their last I.R.S. work. No, here it is the change in point of view. Document was – with some exception – a cynical and weary record, with political messages that convey themselves as falling on deaf ears. In the span of a year that attitude had done a 180o turn into pop that was joyous and jaunty. Well not a complete 180o, because the worry is still there amongst the self deprecation, the signs of their felt collective duty to create a record about the political climate coming ahead in the H.W. years. We’ll call it a 151o turn.
Was that to attract a larger audience? Probably; the alternative boom was a few years away from its true angsty phase. But as a result that viewpoint and poppy optimism (“poptimism”, if you will) becomes its own kind of experimentation. Green is another transitional record for sure, but some of the music is so different that you could call it a new debut. The main reason I don’t say that is because R.E.M. had made a debut album that is one of the best of all time, and I can’t safely say that Green is of that consistency. In fact, compared to every album before, this is a messy work. Originally the album was meant to be of two halves – like the last three records – that was one half electric and one half acoustic. Obviously the album we have does not reflect that, and whether that messiness is an ultimate extension of Green’s carefree nature probably depends on your mileage. But for every track that doesn’t work there is a great track to take the pedestal instead. There are a fair amount of experiments in Green; some experiments tend to deliver positive results.
The first notes of “Pop Song 89” don’t seem to differ too much from the sound of the previous album; apart from the clearer production is doesn’t sound too different to songs like “Exhuming McCarthy.” But then the touches begin to reveal themselves, particularly with the casual build of organs, slight acoustic guitar and the big wallops of what I believe is synth bass (I’m not entirely sure). It shows a deliberate generic nature by being a pastiche of another song, namely “Hello, I Love You” by the Doors. But with that it builds upon those sentiments with the chorus “Should we talk about the weather? Should we talk about the government?” It uses a pop framework to demonstrate the pop culture’s normal refusal to tackle the big topics; of the all the “ironic” pop songs on this record, this is the one that is actually ironic (but more on that later). “Pop Song 89” demonstrates the trademark contradictions and self deprecation we associate from the band, with a less polemic tone than “Finest Worksong,” this being hesitant were that was immediate.
The song that is call to stand up and do something comes next with “Get Up”, all be it hidden in euphemism. For a band that are named after a state in dreaming, it has been odd how less overt that aspect of R.E.M’s name has been since the overt dreamscapes of their South Gothic trilogy. They make amends to this somewhat with “Get Up”, a song that conveys an explicit dream-state with a bridge filled with many music boxes chiming at once (apparently Berry’s idea, another example of why he was crucial to the creative process). It is said also to be about Mike Mills, and it is worth noting here he does some fantastic work with a certain bounces decreasing lines that helps give force to this trademark R.E.M. pop hit.
After that optimism, it is worth noting that “You are the Everything” is maybe the only song in the album that expresses an explicit self doubt, with Stipe quiet bluntly saying “I’m very scared for this world, I’m very scared for me”. With this melancholic tone also comes the most drastic change in R.E.M’s sound. Apart from the bass there is no traditional instrumentation, instead accordions, pianos and a mandolin that the band would grow particularly fond of in the next record. Like “King of Birds” from Document I don’t think it would work as well without the sincerity and vulnerability of Stipe keeping a sturdy core. This to me is the song that gives the album an emotional core and context, showing the mindset of the man who would want to change the world.
Then we come to what I have learned is a contentious song in the R.E.M. canon, so to give my stance: I don’t dislike “Stand”. Yes it has a guitar tune and rhythm that is a little too much like the pop-punk acts that plague the first set of festival stages, but otherwise it is tightly structured and I’m a sucker for a guitar tune this catchy. Plus, like “Get Up” it still has an inherent message of optimism and strength amongst all the silliness and siren noises. The thing was, I was going to say that I liked “Stand”, but listening to it multiple times for review made me tone down my stance a bit. The tone of this song does sound like exactly the kind of song that would get annoying with lots of airplay, which I presume above “sell-out” claims is why this song gets a lot of ire. My actual critique of the song comes with the description of it as an “ironic” pop song, a claim to many songs on this album and some of Out of Time. My complaint is that it isn’t true. Not at all. If it was ironic there would be context in the song that lets us know that. “Pop Song 89” gives us the context by its generic title, but “Stand” doesn’t have those indications and doesn’t seem intended to be so. As a result, this is just a pop song, and as with most people liking something ironically they probably shouldn’t. Just like what you like, y’all.
“World Leader Pretend” returns to a more familiar R.E.M. sound that combines a rock and folk aesthetic, particularly in Buck’s guitar soung (this song is said to be a homage to Leonard Cohen). That is until the inclusion of castanets, cellos and steel guitar, all of which to help enhance a sound of worry instead of detracting from it. The fascinating thing about this song thought was that it was the first R.E.M song – and only this album – whose lyrics were printed into the linear notes. That definitely implies a sense of importance, but despite the political nature of the album and the use of war vocabulary, when inspected closer it is about the battles inside the self: “This is my world, and I am the World Leader Pretend/This is my life, and this is my time”. Perhaps that change upon closer examiner is why the lyrics were printed; its message that combines both optimism and conflict being crucial themes of the whole album.
But now we return to the mandolin for what is probably my least favourite song on the album, “The Wrong Child”. In an album full of discordance and lack of clarity doesn’t particularly suit the tone of what occurred previous at all (though it should be said that the mandolin and guitar songs tend to segregate themselves instead of flow). The counterpoint backing vocals, instead of expanding the POV, instead here act like echoes adding the isolation of this central child. But this also makes them feel a little incongruous amidst the overall sound. This is one of those songs where I can see in essence what they were going for, but it just doesn’t work for me.
“Orange Crush”, meanwhile, works in spades. The aesthetic very closely resembles “The One I Love” – and in some way can draw comparisons to “Bullet in the Blue Sky” by that other big 80’s band – but this one expands on it with even better riffs and melodies from Buck and Mills, as well as Berry’s militaristic drumming. This is of course is appropriate for a song (cryptically) about Agent Orange and the Vietnam War – which is what I assume the minimalistic cover is in reference to – which here beautifully uses the backing vocals to show to show confusion behind Stipe’s more direct delivery, that is of course until the bridge, where Stipe uses a stream-of-consciousness to show flashbacks and insanity caused by the war in question.
That song is a more obvious single, but if there is one “hit” here that is the most strange it is “Turn You Inside Out” (It wasn’t released as a single, but made it high on the US rock charts). It has a bizarre structure that in lesser hands would have sounded awkward, but the song in its organ pumping, strange percussive glory still holds up. If I had to give that credit to anyone it would be Mike Mills, who underneath all the stranger sounds here gives one of the best bass lines of his career. And lyrically it returns to the subject of worker disobedience against corrupt business. This is the most Document sounding song on the album.
“Hairshirt”, meanwhile, is the most Out of Time sounding song on the album, and my favourite of the deep cuts. The brightness of the mandolin dominates the song, with only the bass and organ giving the sense of rhythm (no percussion aside from tiny bells). Apparently Stipe’s vocal line was improvised in the studio, and it really helps to give his melody the feel of I.R.S. Era R.E.M. Adding to that is the fact that these are probably the most cryptic lyrics on the whole record, with mixing together pronouns and images of the individual and crowd to show both how overwhelmed he is, but also just how happy.
Like “Turn You Inside-Out”, “I Remember California” also has a strange structure, though he it is in the lyrics mixing together generic and specific imagery to paint a picture of the state that bears its name. Unlike the other song though I don’t think this one is effective, mainly because the dirge-like tone sticks out from most of the album and goes on a little too long. Still, as the bridge seems to tell us – “History is made/ History is made to seem unfair” – this is intentional, a made construct from the narrator’s self to maybe show how they feel about the place.
If there is any song to represent both the more disorganised nature of this album and the inherent beauty that still lies underneath, it is the untitled track that closes off the entire album. It is like a more mature version of “Letter Never Sent”, where the wording instead can apply to any situation of separation from a loved one. Mill’s bass takes a (somewhat) backseat to a beautiful backing organ and hollow percussion by Buck’s floating guitar lines that really seem to replicate Stipe’s torn emotions. This might be one of Stipe’s greatest vocal performances, proof that he has become much more confident as a singer in a matter of five years.
And that progression, capping off an album of both experimentation and misfires, perfectly demonstrates the overall feel of Green. It’s themes and emotions can be less focused, but in the context of Document the overall bright tone (overriding some of the darker elements inside) is a natural progression to a band obsessed with counteraction. They wouldn’t, however, do the same with their next release. Instead, they would attempt to refine that style, amidst the biggest studio hiatus the band had to that date. The title of that record is somewhat misleading, then…
What did you think, though?
R.E.M Album Rankings
- Lifes Rich Pageant
- Murmur
- Document
- Reckoning
- Fables of the Reconstruction
- Green
- Dead Letter Office/Chronic Town