R.E.M. moved to London
to record this, their third album. The experience of trying to write songs and produce a record while living in an unfamiliar country was quite stressful after several years of rigorous road work. They pulled together, and prevailed with a killer album to show for it. In spite of
their surroundings, the album is pure Athens, Georgia. The songs range in tone
from quiet, ballad-like pieces to full tilt rock and roll. Fed by the
overwhelming sense of isolation,
Stipe’s contributions are dark and more complex than ever. His
allusive lyrics explore a variety of themes through cryptic
mumblings, howls, and stuttered explosions of verbosity. The band pulls
back at times, offering a lighter touch on tracks like “Wendell Gee,” a
dirge concerning a crooked Athens car dealer, or the border ballad “Green Grow the Rushes.” But the comparatively placid
songs are like a calm before the storm, and only
foretell of things to come. The angst surges ahead in rockers like
“Driver 8” and the abrasive “Life and How to Live It,” a paranoid and
dissonant song inspired by an equally paranoid Georgia hermit.
Sonically, the classic R.E.M. sound is present on every track: harmony
vocals and refrains, jangling guitars, snappy bass lines and urgent drum licks. The soundscape is enhanced
by instrumentation including banjo and strings. Overall, it’s
an essential R.E.M. album, more accomplished than the debut or follow up, but missing the polish of what came after.
I’m thankful for that: R.E.M sounds much better left rough around the
edges.
Without counting the
posthumously released odds and sods disc Nico (which is also excellent), Soup is the final
Blind Melon album. Of course, no one knew this was the end, so you get all the velocity of a young band still in its prime. It’s a tense affair, practically bursting at the seams with impassioned vocals and punchy instrumentation. It was
recorded at the band’s communal house in New Orleans, and the atmosphere comes through in the production. The sonics and songwriting
are a touch grittier than on the self-titled debut, and in some places more delicate, too. On the heavy rocking cuts like "New Life" and "Galaxie," the group retains their signature stop-and-go dynamic while making an earthier, more
organic sounding record with overtly darker lyrical themes. The album is surprisingly cohesive in spite of the sequencing, which plays out like an
emotional roller coaster ride. This works a charm, of course, an expert sequence having been wrought from the unavoidable happenstance of the material's content. Listening out loud is an adrenaline fueled romp not unlike watching a Dario Argento movie -- you're seemingly never allowed to sit at ease, even during calm moments when nothing scary is happening. Quiet spaces take on the haunted quality of troubled introspection, and more upbeat sections are often jarring and come on with a sudden tumult that startles you into alarm. What, that song about drug detox wasn’t
strong enough for you? Then here, enjoy an snappy tune about Ed Gein.
And such sentiments -- abandonment, murder, suicide, comfort, lies, insecurity -- they're all pages torn from Shannon Hoon’s conflicted psychology, bedded snugly
within a ripping good rock and roll record. “Mouthful of
Cavities” is a favorite, and features a vocal from Jena Kraus. Kraus also appears on the album's bonus track -- push play
for track 01, then hold down the skip button on your CD player until
you arrive at track 00.
