Sweetness Follows
Is R.E.M. the greatest American band of all time?
It’s a question we ask ourselves almost daily at the R2C office. Originality, consistency, longevity, impact, and output, they are incredibly strong contenders. Yet they slip almost undetected through the lines of daily musical conversation. Even cultural conversations. Their activism was constant. Michael Stipe was an openly queer frontman back in the 80s. They built upon the indie models of the punk hardcore scenes and grew their audience on their own terms while making the music they wanted to. They took The Minutmen and Husker Du on tour. Have deep roots in launching the college radio movement. They operated with a sincerity and passion that almost feels novel nowadays and certainly does not exist outside of the scenes they fostered. Their sound shifts seamlessly between the moods of the four seasons. An energy both rural and urban; meta and micro, crowded and alone.
No one (besides me) is ever standing in the aisles of a supermarket at 8am in the morning as Losing My Religion plays over the sound system and marveling at the unlikeliness of that type of song being such a massive hit. It almost makes you think that deep down humans are probably craving real artistic engagement that speaks to the depths of their emotions and not just superficial distractions to keep them from noticing they’re constantly being cheated and are all going to die…almost.
So, I curated the ultimate REM playlist to fully make my point. Links are below on both Apple and Spotify (all killer, no filler) for your listening pleasure. Spans their career (Actually the last two albums are absent cause I never listened to them) and demonstrates the richness of their work. I put careful thought into the order and the flow of the mix and would encourage you to listen to it in that order before you try shuffling. I won’t bore you with endless commentary on every song but I would like to make the following notes:
1) Everybody Hurts is not on the playlist. This is not because it’s a bad song but because it’s so honest and direct that it packs a wallop. I had a hard time even getting through a listen of it this morning because it turns out, like a lot of us, I’m emotionally repressed. To write a song like that, back in the first half of the nineties when cynicism and sarcasm were the parlance was a different kind of courage. You have to have good artistic boundaries and the trust in your work to do it. It’s like the musical version of that scene in Good Will Hunting when Robin Williams’ character just keeps saying “It’s not your fault son,” as Matt Damon comes apart. I feel like hearing that song is a choice you should make when you want or need to and shouldn’t just sneak up on you in a playlist. Thus its exclusion. Also one of the most beautiful videos ever made and if you disagree I’ll just cuss you out cause I’m not good at effectively communicating my emotions. Prick.
2) Half A World Away. This is, in my opinion the most beautiful R.E.M. song and one of the most beautiful songs ever written. If this song comes on when you’re around me you cannot talk to me, look at me or ask anything of me. I’m not there at that moment even if I’m physically present. Every great summer sunset you’ve ever had in your life boiled down to a few perfect minutes.
3) Hope. In high school I drove a standard transmission Subaru Legacy. The tape deck was broken so I kept a boom box in the front seat. I have vivid memories of flying down the soft rolling roads that lead from the center of New Haven to the lakeside border of New York with this blasting. I like the Leonard Cohen style lyrical approach. It builds steadily with the pace, fear, optimism and desperation of the protagonist’s friend who’s battling a terminal illness; You want to go out Friday and you wan to go forever. When this album came out I wasn’t even listening to a ton of R.E.M. at the moment but because it was released on my birthday I felt like it was a sign and picked it up. It’s a mixed bag but this song and Daysleeper are still a weird reflective party.
4) In Sixth grade I had Automatic for the People and Out of Time on cassette. Both were BMG 10-tapes-for-a-nickel purchases of my brother’s passed down to me. I’d climb on to the school bus at some ungodly early hour on a cold winter morning, walk back to the end seats, slip down between the green vinyl barriers till I disappeared and listen to them on my Walkman. The song Drive especially meant a whole fucking lot to me then. Hey kids where are you? Nobody tells you what to do, is sweet poetry to a sixth grader.
5) Don’t Go Back To Rockville is a damn near perfect song. You’re actually not entitled to your opinion on this. It’s perfect.
6) Electrolite. You’re eyes are burning holes through me. I’m gasoline, I’m burning clean. If those words aren’t in your vows at our wedding, I don’t think it’s gonna work out.
7) Nightswimming. As someone who grew up in the country and spent many summer nights driving the dirt roads and swimming in warm dark waters with the best friends I could ever ask for, this song has an almost mystical effect. It’s like an incantation. No matter how many times I’ve heard it it absolutely breaks me. Even as a youngster listening to it I knew one day I’d be an oldster listening to it and remembering longing for the love and the vibrant joy of those nights. Those night moves.
8) It’s The End Of The World a song that only becomes more and more comforting and relevant as time goes on. I think the courage, the defiance and acceptance of it are the reason it still resonates so strongly. The break neck pace of the lyrics reflecting the speed and insanity of the modern world juxtaposed with Mike Mills chanting a mantra in the background: It’s time I had some time alone. I feel like I’ve felt like this song my entire life.
9) E-Bow The Letter. A criminally underrated R.E.M. song. Patti Smith providing this haunting, spectral overlay to a tune that feels like early, blue mornings in transit. Cold empty beaches. Christmas lights on cement. When they played it at the Tibetan Freedom Concert Thom Yorke filled in for the Patti part and every time I watch it I think I’m prepared for how great he crushes it but I never am.
10) Losing My Religion. Look, we all know it’s a great song and we’ve all heard it 1,000 times. So I put this live version on because I love the energy of the audience. I like that as soon as the mandolin kicks in you hear a whole stadium of people lose their shit. It reminds you of how good it is.
11) Rockville by J Church. It’s J Church covering one of the best R.E.M. songs ever. It has to be on here no further explanation needed. RIP Lance Hahn.
12) I ended with Be Mine because it’s one of their most beautiful love songs and it’s also pretty unknown and overlooked. I want you to reach the end and right when you’re feeling like any more R.E.M. will make you puke, they suck you back in.
This is the perfect playlist to put on and drive for 3 hours and 27 mins through your inner world, your memories and the literal land around you. R.E.M. is America’s best band, even if we’ll never admit it.
On Spotify: Link
On Apple Music: LINK
