When I was
13 years old I got a CD player for Christmas.
I had two CDs: Divine Madness by Madness and Live Alive Quo by Status
Quo. Despite having always adored music,
it became quickly clear to me that I had a fairly poor collection. To quote Father Ted, “Dougal, what you have
is a record, to have a collection you need more than one record”. With this, I took my paper round money and
selected the free 5 CDs I could get by subscribing to the Britannia Music Club. The albums I can remember getting (can’t
remember all 5) were the Wayne’s World Soundtrack, Diva by Annie Lennox and
Automatic for the People by REM.
Looking
back at how random the choices were, I am eternally thankful to fate for
selecting the final album which is a masterpiece. I didn’t take to the album quickly, but the
band would become one of the most important in my music collection over the
coming years. In fact, I don’t think I
really listened to the album much until a friend at school mentioned that he
loved Everybody Hurts.
Gradually
the album became a fixed resident of my CD player. I used to always listen to my CDs on random,
and the player always selected track 10 first.
Track 10 on Automatic is Man on the Moon and a great introduction to
REM. Today I don’t really like it, perhaps
due to overexposure, but it was the starter drug that made me appreciate the
rest of the album.
Most
importantly for me, I met Marcus who would soon become one of my best and
closest friends who had fallen for REM quicker than I. His excitement made me listen to the album
more, and I soon listened to the album differently, understanding the
contrasting powers of Find the River and Monty Got a Raw Deal.
It will be
one of my biggest regrets that I didn’t join Marcus in purchasing tickets to
see them at the Milton Keynes Bowl (the tickets having been rescheduled for
Bill Berry’s aneurysm). Instead, I can
remember taping the concert as it was broadcast on Radio 1. It is one of the few tapes I still own.
The album
that inspired the tour, Monster, for me was an incredible awakening. The band admitted that the previous album
nearly broke the band, and that they were rarely in the same room for the
recording. When I heard Monster, I
immediately picked up on these flaws.
The D chord at the start of What’s The Frequency Kenneth, was so simple
and yet raw and dirty that I struggle to play an open D on an electric guitar
knowing that it will forever be inferior.
This is irritating as D is quite useful.
I think
what Marcus and I both liked about Monster was that other people didn’t like
it. They wanted the, admittedly
beautiful, sweeping strings of Automatic, but here was Monster which was
challenging and loud and different. We
loved it. It was this album that made me
discover the back catalogue and make me realise that REM were meant to be a
band who played things fast – Michael Stipe admitting that his style of singing
is designed to try and encourage the band to slow down. The one song where he goes with the flow, It’s
The End of the World (and I feel Fine), is a breathless vocal feat. I will forever remember Marcus reciting the
lyrics at breakneck speed when drunk (I dare you to challenge him).
I finally
got to see REM live at Glastonbury in 1999.
This is the subject of a whole different blog, Marcus and I didn’t get
drunk (I don’t think we even had a beer, it was too expensive), we didn’t stay
up late, we were there for the music … and primarily to see REM. I was blown away. The band’s sound was unlike anything else I
had heard, designed for the open air.
The change in pace between songs perfect. Here was, the frankly strange and socially awkward,
Michael Stipe emitting a charisma that was enchanting. There may have been c80,000 people in the
field, but I can only remember Marcus, me and REM.
So now the
band have broken up, and there is the age old debate of whether they should
have called time earlier. My view is
that they shouldn’t have and I wish that they had continued.
Their newer
albums weren’t as complete, they never would be, bands have their creative
peaks when younger and hungrier.
However, they still produced great songs (Imitation of Life, At Your
Most Beautiful, Leave, All the Way to Reno, Leaving New York just a selection)
and, importantly, were still phenomenal live.
Marcus and
I saw REM at Twickenham in 2008 after releasing an “ok’ish” album in Acclerate,
but live they were incredible and innovative and brave enough to play early
tracks that most in the audience didn’t recognise. Their use of lighting and cameras brought the
most out of the screens. Only U2 are
comparable for staging such a show. The
energy of their live performance relentless, the band seemed to get faster
throughout, taking a break only for poignant ballads which soured through the
sky.
Without
REM, my musical tastes may have never strayed from the mainstream albums that
Britannia used to recommend. But
instead, I embraced alternative music, and what’s more gained the belief that I
could understand it. Whereas U2 made me
discover musical roots, REM taught me appreciate new music.
There is
one main reason why I’ll miss REM; I will never get to stand shoulder to
shoulder with Marcus at one of their concerts.
There we would be getting overexcited by random early REM songs,
shouting the lyrics out word perfect whilst laughing at the weird looks we get
from people around us waiting for something they recognise from Heart FM. There are other bands and Marcus is still
healthy, but I am sad that I won’t get to do this again. If Michael, Mike, Peter (and hopefully even
Bill) have a heart they will put on a show just so that Marcus and I can relive
this again. I’m sure it was the “right
time” etc, but it is another sign of my youth coming to an end.
I know they
may not be everyone’s favourite band, and I’m certainly not unconditional in my
love of their songs. But, they
introduced me to the concept of challenging music and one that united two
friends. I’m eternally grateful to the
band, but could they come and say goodbye properly? Please?
