Three years after Up, R.E.M. released their second album as a trio, 2001’s Reveal. After the sonic experimentation of Up, Reveal was more in the vein of a “normal” R.E.M. album, sharing a style and tone closest to their work on Automatic For the People.
For me, this is one of the trickiest albums in the band’s catalog. While I enjoy most of the songs quite a bit, the album itself has never quite gelled. I don’t know if it’s the lack of Bill Berry, but Reveal has always seemed off in some way.
In 1997, a year after the release of New Adventures in Hi-Fi, R.E.M. founding member Bill Berry, their drummer, chose to leave the band to live a quiet life on his farm. His departure followed a scare a couple of years earlier in which he collapsed onstage with a brain aneurysm. No doubt that sort of thing causes you to reevaluate your life in short order.
Beyond playing the drums and a host of other instruments, Berry was an active songwriter for R.E.M. (the full band is credited with writing all of their songs, though Berry’s name has specifically been attached to such classics as ‘Man On the Moon,’ ‘Driver 8’ and ‘Can’t Get There From Here’).
And his musical contributions aside, I don’t think it can be overemphasized how much the absence of a family member means to the family he leaves behind.
I’ve talked about a couple of albums being R.E.M.’s most overrated, and now I arrive at an album I consider one of their most underrated.
1996’s New Adventures in Hi-Fi is a sprawling effort largely recorded during sound checks and rehearsals for their Monster tour, giving it a casual, ramshackle feel. It blends the rocking sound of Monster with the more acoustic flavors of the band’s earlier work.
I call the album underrated not because it was critically panned (on the contrary, it received strong reviews) or a dud on the charts (it sold reasonably well, though not at the levels of their previous three albums) but because in discussions of R.E.M.’s best work, I rarely see New Adventures in Hi-Fi mentioned. And I believe it absolutely belongs in that mix.
1981’s Shot of Love is another of those notorious albums which have been called Dylan’s worst by fans and critics alike (and I’m guessing a ranking of Dylan album covers would see this one near the bottom of the list as well).
It’s another album I don’t own, so I can’t side with the detractors or the equally passionate fans of Shot of Love. But I will say that a trip through the album via 45-second sound samples left me a lot more intrigued than depressed. Sure, the album seems to lack focus (it introduces secular subject matter into the mix, despite being his third Christian album in a row) but it sounds pretty damn good.
1980 saw the release of Saved, the born-again-iest of Dylan’s born-again Christian albums.
Full disclosure here: my prejudice against both gospel music and organized religion makes me distrust and even dislike albums like this without even hearing a bar. The very thought of it creeps me out.
But I have a greater calling here, one that has me exploring all of the Dylan albums I’ve avoided through the years, and I have to admit this is one of the more interesting detours.
Meet Me In Montauk 