The Q review of Reveal
Paul Dunn
Just thought some of you may be interested to read this. It has been taken
from q4music.com
Rating is 5 stars.
Monkeys roam the White House and sheep fry in the British countryside, so
let us phrase our words carefully. The 12th REM album will not save the
world from malefaction and turpitude. It will not chase away spiders or make
Ann Widdecombe any easier to like. But the hugely encouraging sign is that
the band seem to have worked out why so many of their fans drifted away in
the late '90s, and have set about bringing them back. Indeed, Reveal is such
a thoughtful gesture of reconciliation that it virtually comes with ribbons
and a bow. Their timing is as faultless as their gift-wrapping. With the
airwaves currently as barren as a landscape stripped of cattle, now is the
time to re-tune to REM.
The picture that emerges throughout Reveal is one of magic rediscovered.
It's much closer in feel to 1992's Automatic For The People than any other
album they've made. And while it shares some of the characteristics of their
last album, '98's Up, this time these tend to inspire more of an emotional
response than a cerebral one. Most importantly - and despite Peter Buck's
assertions that REM should abandon the restrictions of guitar-rock in favour
of the avant-garde - they've written 12 wonderfully engaging songs that
contain clearly defined verses, choruses and middle-eights. In doing so,
they've proved that rock holds no restrictions for REM whatsoever.
This doesn't mean that Buck's futurism argument has been shouted down. The
first thing that strikes you about Reveal is its voluptuously modern sound,
in which great batteries of synthesizers and samples blend with man-made
instruments (played by REM, Scott McCaughey, Ken Stringfellow, Joey Waronker
and one or two others) to create a soothing bubble bath for the ears. REM
and Pat McCarthy's production has a scintillating smile that really lights
up the room, allowing Reveal to be played four or five times in a day, until
those songs that aren't so immediate manage to burst into full bloom.
Imagine, then, an Automatic For The People that cheers you up without
stinting on intelligence or mystery. An Automatic For The People that
chatters with exciting, psychedelic effects like Madonna's Beautiful
Stranger, or space-age Moog bubbles a la Air. Add a heaped spoonful of the
exquisite Beach Boys honey that sweetened At My Most Beautiful on Up, and
you can understand why this long-time REM fan hasn't taken Reveal out of the
CD player for the last two weeks.
It was a different story a fortnight ago. On first hearing, the opening
track, The Lifting, didn't seem very interesting at all. Once its succulent
Moon Safari-style intro had settled down into a rather orthodox, two-chord
REM number with a trademark e-bow guitar solo, the thought occurred that
maybe the creative juices had run dry. Was this really the best they could
do?
Twenty-four hours later came the realisation that The Lifting is the
strongest opener to an REM album since Begin The Begin on 1986's Lifes Rich
Pageant. When scrutinised closely on headphones, it turns out to be teeming
with speeded-up swooshes of technology on the periphery of the mix. It's a
mosaic of miniature engravings and subtle colours, all dancing around Joey
Waronker's drums and a Motown-referencing bassline. Moreover, although they
are not addressed to the listener per se, Michael Stipe's lyrics have the
effect of welcoming us into the album: "Good morning and how are you?/The
weather's fine, the sky is blue." It's an important point. You feel
strangely touched that Stipe remembered to say hello.
The next song, I've Been High, is sadder and quieter. The spindly,
neo-Ipcress File motif (possibly the work of a synth) catches the
pessimistic atmosphere of Portishead, while Stipe unzips his falsetto to
formulate a melody that sounds scared and alone. At which point Peter Buck
bites the bullet and instructs his guitar valet to fetch his trusty
12-string. All The Way To Reno (You're Gonna Be A Star) is one of several
classic guitar tunes on Reveal, and the best. Six-strings twang and chime. A
12-string jangles. A sitar rizzles herbally in the background. The greatest
guitar band of their generation, doing what they do best. You just cannot
knock it.
On an album that sees REM unafraid to linger on repeated refrains and
play-out choruses (much to everyone's benefit), only one track
miscalculates. After taking a long time to get cracking, the Celtic-tinged
folk-rocker She Just Wants To Be overstays its welcome by at least a minute.
But it's followed by two jewels: first, the deliciously longing Disappear, a
close relative of Automatic's Try Not To Breathe; and then Saturn Return.
Without a doubt, Saturn Return will be a highlight for most people. It's in
the musical neighbourhood of Nightswimming and Perfect Circle, but the
haunting piano line may also remind you of early Kate Bush. There are
desolate moans of guitar and, absurdly but brilliantly, there's a percussion
loop composed of clicks and whirrs, like Windy Miller's windmill in
Camberwick Green. Around this bizarre scenery moves Stipe, barely lit,
singing a spectral tune to make the head spin.
Deciphering Stipe's code is never easy. Few of the individuals in these
songs divulge much about their day-jobs, let alone their private lives. Some
of them are on the move - a businessman flies to a conference, a man goes to
Tel Aviv and a luckless entertainer is off to Reno, Nevada. The burnt-out
traveller in I've Been High sounds as if his adventures are over. In any
event, if these people are searching for inner calm or clarity of vision,
they won't find it in a plane ticket. As the globetrotting narrator of
Disappear comes to realise, "The only thing worth looking for is what you
find inside."
Since a few of the Beach Boys-inflected songs, such as Beat A Drum, Summer
Turns To High and Beachball, evoke a mood of purity and bliss, some of
Stipe's words appear to do the same. Three songs mention birds singing.
Dragonflies receive an affectionate namecheck on two tracks. Amid the
tropical heat of Summer Turns To High, someone watches in fascination as
fireflies "move like syrup through the evening".
But who is the man concussed by a bad fall in Beat A Drum? Why has the
anxious insomniac in Saturn Return been reduced to tears by mother? And what
has young Willie done to deserve death in Chorus & The Ring? After 54
minutes, Reveal sets us down gently with Beachball, a playful seafront
saunter, giddy on Tequila. An album that made a point of saying hello now
takes care to wave goodbye: "This life is sweet/You're dancing in the
street/Who knows who you might meet?/You'll do fine."
However, placing Beachball last in the sequence must have required steely
resolve, because the song that it follows, I'll Take The Rain, would have
been an incredible finale. An epic ballad sung by a brokenhearted lover, it
rises and falls for six long minutes, sobbing its winter's tale until you
can hardly breathe. When Beachball's parping brass section starts the
rhumba, it feels like a defilement.
But that brass section is not the only thing on Reveal that soon becomes
adorable. It's a landmark album for REM and the fans who stayed faithful, a
shot in the arm for music in 2001 and - unless they're too foolish to accept
it - a long-awaited treat for all the listeners who bailed out after
Monster. Let the infidelity cease. The love affair with REM is back on.
Reviewed by David Cavanagh
dippy
had to go buy another one. If anyone want the torn copy , drop me an email
and I'll post it out. (tear is only about one inch long but it is on the REM
page)
diane
"Paul Dunn" <Paul....@btinternet.com> wrote in message
news:9ccjsa$f8g$1...@neptunium.btinternet.com...
ratkins45
"Hang out the bunting, pop the champagne corks, the wedding's back on"
I just loved this review, it comes across so clearly how much he loves the
album. It's possibly a little over the top even, but I just can't wait!
R
(Pity about the missing apostrophe in the ad for Reveal earlier in the
mag!!!)
Ross Thomas
<Paul....@btinternet.com> writes
>
>
>Just thought some of you may be interested to read this. It has been taken
>from q4music.com
>
>Rating is 5 stars.
>
>Monkeys roam the White House and sheep fry in the British countryside, so
Snip!
>r music in 2001 and - unless they're too foolish to accept
>it - a long-awaited treat for all the listeners who bailed out after
>Monster. Let the infidelity cease. The love affair with REM is back on.
>
>
>Reviewed by David Cavanagh
>
I'm thinking he likes it huh?
--
Ross Thomas