Document is the fifth album from R.E.M. We know this because they put that on the front of the album, a move they started doing on this album and then never did it again. Beyond its bureaucratic nature being suited to the album’s themes, one could also say it is a way to mark its finale on I.R.S. records. This is the definite number: they made five records. As a declaration it is as brash and as immediate as the music itself, where after the movement into a harder, mainstream sound for Lifes Rich Pageant they would cement here the music that would usher in their commercial breakthrough and the move to the big studio of Warner Bros. I presume the documents in question are those for transferal.
That transfer was assisted in no small part by Scott Litt, the producer who would aid the band throughout every album in their commercial peak period. People talk mainly of the loss of Bill Berry being the big sign of the band’s decline, and while that is certainly true one can feel the influence of Litt in helping R.E.M’s music become much more direct. Everything on Document is clearer, from the instruments to Stipes voice; this is the first album from R.E.M. where I could tell the majority of what he’s saying. He still makes himself unintelligible in a different way, but we’ll get to that.
The band assists that the fiery and direct approach Litt takes with the anger and frustration of its subject: the political landscape of Reagan era America. Political albums are of course a tricky prospect, not just in the worry that you will eliminate an audience, but the worries that either your music doesn’t hold up without the message, or a too focused target having the potential to date the song when that figure is no longer of relevance. Speaking as an English male in their early twenties, not around to live through the times that the band raged about, I can still safely say that the music on this album holds up. Except for a few occasions the targets of scorn remain vague or applicable, to the point that I could see people who didn’t agree with R.E.M’s politics getting into this album. And if the numbers are any indication, indeed they did.
The first forceful notes of “Finest Worksong” demonstrate why Peter Buck and Bill Berry might be the stars of Document. The guitar riff is intense in its singularity, and the drums hit the snare with a force that is close to tribal. This riff has some of the qualities of that other famous 80’s band (I’ll fit this into every review somehow), a unifying tone that fits perfectly into themes of getting together for civil disobedience. References to Henry David Thoreau make this clearer, although I like to think that the deliberate use of the word “rearrange” is a callback to similar themes on the Lifes Rich Pageant song “These Days” (and “Cuyahoga” to boot).
“Welcome to the Occupation” in contrast is much moodier and has a basis in folk. The music itself wouldn’t sound out of place on Fables of the Reconstruction. This is the third time that Stipe wrote about the Guatemalan occupation, but it is here that the militaristic aspect of that is much clearer; as I said before, I don’t think people realise that Lifes Rich Pageant actually has those themes until you tell them. It’s actually quite remarkable how quickly the band integrated political messages into their act, but R.E.M. still makes this to be about any revolution, another call to pay attention were Stipe is literally crying out “Listen!” to the troubles of the exploited.
So we’ve had rock and folk combinations so far, but what first makes “Exhuming McCarthy” initially sound is how it has elements of a genre that we have not really seen R.E.M. tackle: R&B. And it is not just the inclusion of some woodwind instruments and piano (both things the band had previously done) but in the rhythms with the stabbing guitar chords and the downright funky bassline from Mills. In this (seeming) anachronism R.E.M. fits in an older analogy between the band’s own time and that of McCarthy era. This of course is the most dated song on the album, because since its release America no longer seems interested in running policies by jingoism, economic interest and fear. Particularly the part of those doing so to improve their “business acumen”. Imagine if a large business owner got into power due to American paranoia? Almost unthinkable.
(That first drastic dynamic change to the single bouncing rhythms of Mills’ bass makes me think of the sort of formula that the Pixies would expand on – and pretty much perfect – a year later.)
And with that exploration of sounds, R.E.M. seems to return to that quintessential band sound that we all know: bright appegiated guitars, melodic escalating bass and a tight cymbal bass rhythm keeping it all together. And like good R.E.M. it also thrives on contradiction. The music might be light and sunny, but it eventually reveals itself to have a real cynical attitude on the world, taking imagery from Animal Farm – everyone’s favourite tale about the cons of the managerial skills of truffle sniffers – t0 show how pessimistic and almost mocking people are of people talking about the troubles of the world: “tell us something we don’t know”.
In light of this message going almost on death ears, Stipe’s own paranoia increases with “Strange”. We know this because Michael puts himself in the narrative, saying that he is “nervous and the lights are bright”. This is another cover from a band I hadn’t heard of, Wire, but unlike the cover of “Superman”, I don’t think this reveals anything particularly new about the piece. Part of that is that, simply put, the original is a hell of a lot more deranged, with beefy bass and riffs, horrific sound effects and a staccato speech that Stipe probably couldn’t pull off. It also wouldn’t have fit on the album, and for what it’s worth the band absorb into their style with the ironic sixties-rock “doo-doos” and Berry’s much fuller percussion. A good song, but definitely the weakest on the first side. This might also be the first song that R.E.M. covered of a more obscure that I’m going to go out of my way to listen to more of.
And with that Side One ends on its apocalyptic note, and I mean that in the most precise sense possible. It is important that the full title of the song is “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine).” It’s not merely a world ending event, but the world “as we know it”. The traditional definition of apocalypse is that of a great change, of revelation, and although the images of hurricanes and earthquakes are clearly present the feeling part of the equation shows that narrator Stipe is fine of the apocalyptic events, possibly because it will be a source of knowledge to reveal to this world, and a good end to a side of a record all about paying attention to events around you. That is of course only my interpretation of a song which is famously long and stream-of-consciousness, Stipe singing fast another to make this song a notorious challenge at karaoke bars. The music meanwhile is as erratic as Stipe, with counter-pointing backing vocals, piano slides, “Leonard Bernstein’s!” and Berry’s eclectic drums. I always expect the music to be louder than it is after the opening drum roll, but after that the song deserves its reputation as an R.E.M. classic.
Side Two begins with another R.E.M., in that it was their first true hit single. “The One I Love” is predominately a folk ballad, and while Peter Buck’s riff is iconic if there is anything live versions have taught me is that this song is just made by Berry’s impactful drumming. This song is also famous for not having many lyrics, but as many a “don’t play this on your wedding day” joke has taught it still manages to get misunderstood by some as a love song“a simple prop to occupy my time” is some of the bluntest of Stipe imagery. Though there might still be passion in this romance, if the cries of “Fire” are any kind of indication. Stipe says that fire is the theme of the whole album, writing the message “File under Fire” the same way that Reckoning was “filed” under water. Whilst that might have been true in the abstract sense on, it is first on here that it is given its most prominent stage…
…only to be followed by a song called Fireplace”. Like the flames of its title this song has a swirling guitar riff and piano notes, and particularly ignites with some amazing saxophone work from Steve Berlin. This song is apparently about the Shaker’s movement, although I would absolutely no idea of that if I hadn’t read it. As the song stands on its own it appears to be a dark anthem ultimately about hope and redemption, with signs of cleaning up rubble. The apocalypse might have happened, but we’re still able to clean up.
Like the title would suggest, “Lightnin’ Hopkins”, returns to an electric and speedy sound almost in the same way that “Fireplace” replicated its title (apparently it’s a reference to a blues guitarist Sam Hopkins, but again I have no idea why). It seems to comtemplate the pros and cons of living underground, where it is “cold” but “gold”, but uses the word lightning, a word we usually associate with the highest skies. The band play with these contrasts through0ut, all the while playing an incredibly full bass line and powering guitar riff. I wouldn’t be shocked if the drums in that introduction were used in some hip hop samples. This is definitely one of, if not, my favourite Berry performance on any R.E.M. record. It combines all his traits of percussion (snare, symbol, manipulating negative space with strange sounds”) to remind us just what a crucial member of the band he is.
Images of the ground and the cold move on into “King of Birds.” Here though there is a more reserved sound, despite the marching drum beat. The most obvious sonic change is that of the dulcimer (though strange string sounds could be found on Lifes Rich Pageant) and it interacts with the drums (along with Buck’s moody guitar playing) to give the perfect atmosphere to this song that appears to be from the point of a King – of the birds perhaps? – looking for their own solace and eventually only being able to find the ground. It’s a strange song that might not even work without Stipe’s nasal ethereals keeping it all together, a sign of later experiments to come.
After all the signs and perils of the cold, R.E.M. ends with a song that considers the central metaphor of a firehouse in “Oddfellows Local 151”. The Firehouse might therefore be seen a sign of refuge, but as Stipe sings and the band plays we quickly don’t think that is the reality. With all gathering of pearls (pearl clutching?) and preaching upon walls, it appears to be instead the last vestiges of hope before a world goes up in flames. The music assists with that cynical attitude, particularly the dark and almost atonal riff that Buck provides that might be one of his most underappreciated.
After the pop optimism of Lifes Rich Pageant, it’s kind of shocking how Document ends up being so grim and pessimistic. But then again maybe its not; we all know how much R.E.M loves it contrasts, and that happens from record to record, and here from side to side. The first side suggests the fresh and direct messages and storytelling the band would take, while the second half is an enigmatic parable of an otherworldly state that is still in some level the earth we live in. Much like the R.E.M of Murmur. Hell, of Chronic Town even. It therefore marks this as a perfect end to the I.R.S era of the band, along with showing the signs of Document as a transitional record. You would be right. For now we’ve done with the letters and the documents. Now let us get a green card. Puns!..
R.E.M Album Ranking
- Lifes Rich Pageant
- Murmur
- Document
- Reckoning
- Fables of the Reconstruction
- Dead Letter Office/Chronic Town
P.S: Unlike many of my rankings on this series, the quality is so similar that I won’t be shocked at all if the orders of these have all changed by the end of next week.