R.E.M., Up
(1998)

listen to the devils in my ear
tell me what, what I want to hear
you're so funny, you're so fine
you're so perfect, you're so mine,
that I never had an opportunity to hide
no I never had a chance

~ Suspicion

I feel great.
I lied to save your feelings.
truth convened,
my head smashed through the ceiling.
I lost an arm, no one harmed,
you diplomatically alarmed.
I sulked away to lick my thin skin.
I'm not over you.
I'm not over you.
I'm not over you.

~ I'm Not Over You

who cast the final stone?
who threw the crushing blow?
someone has to take the fall
why not me?  why not me.
had consequence chose differently
had fate its ugly head
my actions make me beautiful
and dignify the flesh

me.  I am free.  free.

~ Falls To Climb

R.E.M., Up
February 6, 1999

Up is R.E.M.'s first release since the departure of their drummer, Bill Berry.  I wasn't sure what to expect.  The last three albums -- Automatic for the People, Monster, and New Adventures in Hi Fi -- have been so different from each other in almost every way that I wasn't sure the new one would even sound like R.E.M.

But it does.

In fact, I think Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, and Mike Mills have created an album that plays like a synthesis of the new directions they've taken in the 1990s.  Up blends the aching sadness and beauty of Automatic for the People, the experimentation of Monster (although much more controlled this time), and the pure strangeness of New Adventures in Hi Fi to produce something new and exciting, and it sounds more like R.E.M. than ever -- and this time, it's R.E.M. all grown up.

Some of the highlights of this album are songs that seem personal in ways that R.E.M. shied away from in their early days.  Some, like "At My Most Beautiful" are love songs, while others -- "The Apologist," "Suspicion," and "Diminished" -- examine difficult emotions under a microscope.  The quiet pain of "I'm Not Over You" is one of the most powerful moments on the album, matched perhaps only by the driving beat and lyrics of "Hope."  Yet as always, R.E.M.'s wry humor shines through even the darkest lyrics.

In some songs we meet characters who seem to live behind the mask of society, whose lives may touch our own -- "Sad Professor," Airportman," and "Daysleeper."  These songs capture the unique quality of loneliness in a way most listeners will recognize and appreciate.  Yet these songs are balanced by others, like "You're In The Air" and "Walk Unafraid," that examine human connection.

Up also has its share of those surreal R.E.M. moments, most notably the song "Lotus," sexy and strange, which rivals "Be Mine" on New Adventures in Hi Fi for the most bizarre lyrics award.  The lyrics on this album also reveal a strange preoccupation with cats: "that cat can walk like a big bad man" ("Lotus"), "mean cats eat parakeets" and "mean cats chew on licorice" ("Parakeet").  I also have to mention here "Why Not Smile" and "At My Most Beautiful," which are obvious explorations of the musical style of the Beach Boys.   Despite my initial skepticism, these songs are both great.  It's also interesting to note that the BB-style vocal harmonies that feature so prominently in these two songs also creep into the arrangements for others on the album ("Diminished" and "Hope").

From the opening strains of "Airportman" to the end of "Falls To Climb," Up plays like a complete work rather than a random collection of songs.  Many of the songs   evoke a mood of mystery and yearning, yet the vocals and the instrumentals throughout the album sound confident and relaxed.  The critics who panned this album (and there were several) must have expected something different, perhaps more of a gap represented by the departure of Bill Berry.  The truth is, it's the strongest R.E.M. record since Automatic for the People, and it covers new ground as well as reworking their past themes and styles.