The album REM wrote in retaliation to U2: “Our version of rock music”
There are often bands whose names crop up repeatedly when discussing the sound of a particular era. Nirvana’s name is synonymous with 1990s grunge, while Hendrix epitomises a psychedelic movement of the late 1960s. Somewhere between the cracks of contemporary discussion are R.E.M., whose ever-changing pursuit of sound deserves more credit than it’s given.
In the late 1980s, they soundtracked a world of counter-culture in the US before stamping their authority on the airwaves with ‘Shiny Happy People’ and ‘Losing My Religion’ from their ’91 album Out of Time. This record saw their alternative disposition rehomed into a sunnier climate and thus shot them to mainstream stardom.
But like all bands who experience a commercially successful album, REM was staring into the doorway of a pigeonhole. A commercially viable product lay in waiting, permitting them to follow the record up with a happier, shinier part two. Their ‘92 follow-up Automatic For The People rose their star further for Stipe’s introspective take on the passage of time and what was left was a band facing a crossroads.
What followed was a slamming on the handbrake and a hard right turn, as their ‘94 album Monster saw REM plug in and turn it up. The tenderness of ‘Everybody Hurts’ and the profoundness of ‘Losing My Religion’ limited Stipe in the eyes of many fans to a delicate but edgeless artist. Determined to break free from the confines of stereotype, they embarked on a grungier journey in this record, which Stipe describes in an interview with The Guardian as a very conscious choice.
“It was our version of rock music,” Stipe says. “U2 had come out with Achtung Baby, where they had allowed themselves to become theatrical; there was an element of that. Grunge had happened, and there was something very freeing in that as well. So we went for something completely different, something more circus-like and over the top. It was glam rock, basically. It was going back to T Rex and Mott the Hoople and pulling it forward into where grunge was, post-Achtung Baby. Those are movements and records that really impacted me, and made me think: Who are we within all this? The landscape has shifted, and where do we stand?”
In the record’s b-side, ‘Strange Currencies’, REM return to what sounds like their most recognisable. But while U2, Nirvana and The Pixies seemed to be charging forward in this new soundscape the band were exploring, this particular track came from an unlikely inspiration:
“The middle eight of that is completely taken from INXS and from Michael [Hutchence]. He was such an amazing rock star. I’m really a little embarrassed by the term rock star. When I met Andy Warhol, he called me a pop star. I said: ‘No I’m the singer in a band.’ He said: ‘No, you’re a pop star.’ ‘No, I’m not.’ OK, well, he won. As it turned out, I’m a pretty good pop star. I’m not a very good rock star – I don’t have the voice for it. I think it’s an odd thing to reach for, to be a rock star.”
The way in which Stipe downplays his own stardom is perhaps what limited his artistic ability to fully wear the darkness of a grungier REM It’s true that music’s most fascinating artists are the chameleons who transcend through genres and sounds, but equally, there’s something to be said for the sort of unwavering artistic authenticity that allowed REM to carve their own lane.
