Generation Mixtape

More than a decade removed from deciding to call it a day, R.E.M. seems content to quietly fade into the annals of rock history. Why the band hasn’t enjoyed the same critical reappraisal bestowed upon so many of their peers is hardly a surprise. After all, from the get-go, R.E.M. showed little interest in ‘playing the game.’

How else do you explain the six-year sabbatical from touring at the height of their fame? Or the fact that they might be the only band in music history to call it quits and actually mean it? Sure, their music has had the odd reemergence (by way of an amazing T.V. show), but other than some obligatory anniversary reissues, R.E.M. exists only in the past tense. Still, there was a time when R.E.M. was the biggest band in the world. 

Full Disclosure: I’ve been a massive fan since the moment I saw the video for “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It” back when I was single-digit years-old. R.E.M. was the first ‘band’ I liked. And for as much I liked R.E.M. thirty-five years ago, my appreciation for their impeccable catalog has grown exponentially in the years since their premature departure.

Speaking of that catalog: there’s an impressive symmetry to R.E.M.’s body of work. The band’s fifteen albums can easily be divided into three distinct five-album runs–the nascent IRS years, the major label years, and the post-Berry years. Of course, like virtually every band in the history of music, R.E.M.’s output in terms of acclaim and album sales adheres to a solid bell curve.

So, with all of that in mind, I’m going to attempt the near-impossible task of ranking R.E.M.’s catalog. Of course, that means I need to get a few caveats off my chest before we begin the begin (oh, trust me, I’ve got more where that came from):

*Caveat #1: The following list covers R.E.M’s 15 studio albums. Skipping over the umpteen compilations and live releases was an easy call (otherwise we’d be here all day), but I’ll admit I’m still a bit torn when it comes to the debut Chronic Town E.P. While I’ve decided not to include it in my ranking, it is absolutely essential listening in my book.

**Caveat #2: It should go without saying, but I’m going to say it regardless: I’m a massive fan of R.E.M. Any and all criticisms are subjective and should be taken with a grain of salt.

***Caveat #3: I’d like to file anything that I’ve written below in the ever-so-subjective ‘prisoner of the moment’ category. If I were to repeat this process six months (or six hours) from now, my results would probably change.

****Caveat #4: This is a subjective exercise–I can (and will) find something to love about every R.E.M. album. No, you won’t find the first four IRS releases at the top of this list, but what’s the fun in simply falling in line with critical consensus?

Still reading? Great! Let’s get this show on the road!

In an increasingly polarized world, one of the last things that everyone (including the band) seems to agree upon is that R.E.M.’s weakest effort is Around The Sun. As a first-day buyer back in 2004, I can attest to the measured expectations surrounding the record’s release. Two albums deep into the post-Berry era, R.E.M.’s experimental sojourn had worn a little thin for their aging fan base. Speaking for myself, for as much as I love a good sonic deviation, I was ecstatic when I first heard the lead single, “Leaving New York,” if for no other reason than it sounded like the R.E.M. of old.

Unfortunately, save for a handful of keepers (“Electron Blue,” “Wanderlust”), Around The Sun is the definition of over-cooked. Between the toothless production, lack of Mike Mills vocals, and the bloated, mid-tempo-laden tracklisting, this is perhaps the only R.E.M. release that I’d dare to call boring. That’s not to say I never listen to Around The Sun–I routinely revisit this album in the hopes that it will finally click. It hasn’t happened yet, but I’ve come to appreciate Around The Sun as a necessary misstep and, ultimately, the impetus for a roaring return to form.

Highlights

“Leaving New York” is the only song anyone ever talks about, but even at their nadir, R.E.M. was capable of crafting some truly incredible moments–“Wanderlust” and “Aftermath” would fare just fine on an extended ‘essentials’ playlist.

Lowlights

I’m sure it sounded like a good idea in the studio, but the Q-Tip guest spot on “The Outsiders” just does not work. At all. I know, I know, but what about “Radio Song”? What can I say? KRS One at least has nostalgia on his side.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

Pairing a somber verse with one of the album’s best choruses, “Boy in the Well” is one of the few dynamic moments on this album–definitely my deep cut of choice.

Favorite Lyric and/or Moment

The track-mall gang went off, On the Tennessee goth, A lunar moth, you chrysalis and flail. The water is rising, you try to rappel, A rousing cheer for the boy in the well – “Boy in the Well”

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From here on out, this ranking became a bit more difficult as I genuinely enjoy the entire R.E.M. catalog. And given the band’s penchant for left-turns and reinvention, there’s an album for practically every mood, something that makes comparing and contrasting a bit tricky. That said, something has to come in next to last, and that something is 2001’s Reveal. 

Like many, I initially dismissed R.E.M.’s Beach Boys-inspired ode to summer, but I’ve come to appreciate the band’s twelfth release in recent years. The opening run from “The Lifting” through “Beat a Drum” is actually a pretty interesting collection of songs. Unfortunately, I’ve yet to connect with the ‘big’ single (“Imitation of Life”), and the album’s back half is a bit of a meandering, mid-tempo mess (how’s that for some alliteration???). 

Still, Reveal earns massive points for the band’s refusal to abandon the sonic experimentation that accompanied 1998’s Up. Given Up’s lukewarm reception, no one would have blamed Stipe & Co. for retreating to safer waters. However, in some ways, Reveal is a more focused, equally adventurous version of its predecessor. For that reason, its placement here says less about Reveal and more about the quality that follows.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

As the band’s first upbeat album opener in nearly a decade, “The Lifting” reassured fans that R.E.M. hadn’t completely abandoned the thought of being a rock band. “All The Way to Reno” and “Imitation of Life” were the ‘singles’ you might have actually heard–the former is fantastic (and could easily have found a way on New Adventures in Hi-Fi).

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

While they’re all fine songs, the fifteen-minute block of snoozers near the end of this album (“Summer Turns to High,” “Chorus And the Ring,” and “I’ll Take the Rain”) makes listening to Reveal in sequence a bit of a chore.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

The electronic embellishments haven’t aged all that well, but I freaking love the moody little gem that is “Saturn Return.”

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)

You found the ladder in the pattern of your wrist, You’ve seen and you’ve marked horizons – “Saturn Return”

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Early in my R.E.M. fandom (circa nineteen-eighty-Document), the word on the street (a.k.a. my big sister) was that the first two records were instant-classics while the third was, well, a bit weird. Decades later, ‘a bit weird’ still feels like an apt description for 1985’s Fables of the Reconstruction. Now, like many an R.E.M. fan, I’ve grown to treasure all five of the band’s IRS releases, but Fables is the clear odd man out. Of course, that was by design.

It makes complete sense when you add it all up–new producer (Joe Boyd) plus new city (London) equals a new sound. Sure, there are a couple of moments where the band channels their jangly origins (“Maps and Legends,” “Green Grow the Rushes”), but they almost sound bored with, well, being R.E.M. (a recurring theme). That, coupled with a murkier mix and a healthy dose of ominous vibes, makes Fables of the Reconstruction feel like a departure. Of course, the band being burned out from years of touring didn’t help things either.

That’s not to say Fables of the Reconstruction is an uninspired release; it’s just that the band sounds most into the stuff that sounds the least like what they’d been doing. Some of it works (like the quirky album-opening “Feeling Gravity’s Pull” and the show-stopping “Driver 8”). Still, there are a few moments where the band pushes the ‘weird’ envelope into harsh, almost dissonant waters (“Auctioneer (Another Engine)” comes to mind).

Fables of the Reconstruction fits the bill (well, at least half of the songs) whenever I’m in the mood for something a bit more challenging, but I’m hard-pressed to make a case for this being a top-tier R.E.M. release.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

I hate going with something so obvious, but “Driver 8” is simply (ahem) a monster of a song. It sums up virtually everything I love about R.E.M. in a three-minute package. “Life and How to Live It” and “Can’t Get There From Here” both deserve honorable mention–the former is quintessential, and the latter is just plain fun (something that’s in short supply on this album).

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

While the off-kilter, atonal vibe elevates “Auctioneer (Another Engine),” “Kohoutek” is one of the rare examples of an R.E.M. song where everyone (especially Stipe) just sounds off.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

It’s a bit counterintuitive to cite an album opener as a deep cut, but as an overlooked bout of genius, “Feeling Gravity’s Pull” absolutely fits the bill.

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)

That monster of a riff that just might be Peter Buck’s finest hour – “Driver 8”

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I distinctly remember the first time I listened to Accelerate back in the spring of 2008. The advance reviews at the time were calling it everything from a “move in the right direction” to one of the band’s “best albums.” Despite a bit of a lull in my R.E.M. fandom, my curiosity was piqued. Within minutes, I was back on board–the band sounded inspired, refreshed, and, most importantly, like they were having fun. This is the R.E.M. I remember!

At the time, Accelerate felt like a reaction to the previous trio of underwhelming, over-polished albums–probably because that’s precisely what it was. Songs like “Living Well Is The Best Revenge” and the title track found the band playing with a sense of abandon not heard since the Reagan administration. Add to that Jacknife Lee’s borderline abrasive production, and you have an album that stands in stark contrast to Up and Reveal.

Accelerate remained in heavy rotation for the remainder of that summer and inspired a full-on reinvestment in the R.E.M. back catalog. For that reason alone, the album holds a special place in my heart. Sure, the record’s shine has dulled in recent years, but for all of its flaws (such as the impenetrable, brick-walled mix), Accelerate remains proof positive that the band still had the goods when they decided to call it a day.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

The album-opening “Living Well Is The Best Revenge” is an obvious call but it’s songs like “Hollow Man” and the single “Supernatural Superserious” that make this record worth revisiting.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

On a record full of three-minute bangers, the pensive, five-minute-long “Sing for the Submarine” seems like a smart play on paper, but it sorta feels twice as long as it actually is.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

“Until the Day Is Done” is one of the band’s best late-era ballads. The song’s understated, acoustic-driven production provides the album with a much-needed breather and gives Stipe a showcase to deliver a vintage, politically-charged lyric that sounds like something he might’ve penned for Document.

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)
Well I’m not one to sit and spin, ‘Cause living well’s the best revenge – “Living Well Is the Best Revenge”

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R.E.M.’s final release found the band expanding upon the ‘return to rock’ template first established on 2008’s Accelerate. Compared to its admittedly monochromatic predecessor, Collapse Into Now is far more representative of the many shades of R.E.M. Be it punk-tinged barnburners (“Mine Smell Like Honey”), alt-folk workouts (“Oh My Heart”), or even a cameo from none other than Patti Smith (“Blue”), Collapse Into Now offers a (deliberate?) nod to almost every era of the band.

Like most of the post-Berry era releases, it took me years to warm up to this release. While Jacknife Lee’s brickwalled, borderline shrill production made perfect sense for the rabble-rousing Accelerate, I think it ultimately does a bit of a disservice to the acoustic-driven material here. And the band’s decision to forgo a tour and their ultimate retirement just a few months later pretty much sucked the remaining wind from my R.E.M. sails at the time of this release.

Fortunately, in the years that followed, I fell back into my fandom hard. So much so that I’m probably a bigger fan of the band (and this album) today than I was in 1991–and that’s saying something! And thanks to my initial dismissal, Collapse Into Now still sounds pretty fresh. It may not be a masterpiece, but it’s a more than admirable swan song.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

“Discoverer” does an adequate job channeling that “Finest Worksong” energy, but if anything has a chance of making a late-period R.E.M. playlist, it’s probably the singles (specifically “Überlin,” “Oh My Heart,” and “Mine Smell Like Honey”). That said, there’s a ton of interesting stuff on here that I’d highly encourage any fan to revisit.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

It pains me to say it, but “Blue” just does not work for me. I love the idea of a Patti Smith reunion on paper, but the song feels more like a rough sketch than the epic farewell fans deserved.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

The piano-led “Walk it Back” feels like something that would have shined on Up, but, in truth, the mid-tempo number could’ve easily worked on any of the band’s ‘90s releases. 

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)
I’m in a part of your dreams that you don’t even understand, It’s just like me to overstay my welcome, man – “All the Best”

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After six years of no touring (and a ton of chart-topping success), R.E.M. dusted off their cabinets and decided it was time to hit the road. And it was with that intention that the band hit the studio and recorded a batch of amped-up, stage-ready anthems. Monster was an impressive artistic left-turn for a band that had just sold twelve zillion folk-tinged albums–compared to songs like “Man on the Moon” and “Everybody Hurts,” “What’s The Frequency, Kenneth” practically jumped out of speakers.

With grunge dominating the charts, I’m sure the band’s ‘return to rock’ felt like bandwagon-jumping to some. In truth, 1994’s Monster is less an attempt to sound like Soundgarden and more an homage to ‘70s glam rock. Sure, the album may have sonically sounded of a piece with flannel-clad fray, but the band had no interest in simply adopting the soft-verse-scream-chorus template that seemed to be all the rage. For that reason, songs like “King of Comedy,” “I Don’t Sleep, I Dream,” and “Strange Currencies” still sound as out of place today as they did thirty years ago.

These days, Monster has its fair share of detractors, but I’d argue the album was misunderstood from the get-go. R.E.M. wanted to do something different. And after a decade of successfully wearing their heart on their collective sleeve, a collection of ruminations on the many shades of lust certainly fit the bill. If nothing else, Monster succeeded at introducing the band to a whole new generation of fans. Sure, there’s little here for the millions who came on board with Out of Time, but that wasn’t the point. R.E.M. wanted to ‘rock’ again, and so they did.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

It might’ve been a bit overplayed, but “What’s The Frequency, Kenneth” is a freaking gem that would work on just about any R.E.M. album. To that point, Bill Berry’s ‘reverse’ solo is easily one of his finest moments. Elsewhere, songs like “Star 69,” “Bang and Blame,” and “Crush With Eyeliner” rock as hard as anything R.E.M. recorded, but Stipe is the secret sauce on a lot of this material. Channeling a colorful cast of characters, it’s hard to believe that the mercurial singer was only a few years removed from “if you believe they put a man on the moon…”

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

As someone who spent a decade manning the counter at a local record store, I can fully attest to Monster’s legendary status as a perennial ‘budget-bin’ staple. And songs like plodding “I Took Your Name” and the downright noisy “Circus Envy” probably had a lot to do with it. Half of Monster was released to radio, but the other six tracks make for an admittedly challenging listen.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

We’re all just a time machine away from witnessing fifteen-year-old me listening to “You” on repeat, trying in vain to sing along to Stipe’s other-worldly falsetto. I’m not sure if “You” is the band’s ‘best’ closer, but it’s definitely my favorite, and easily the most haunting thing in their catalog.

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)

I walked the tension wire line, And I learned to disrespect the signs, And I want you like a Pisces rising,  – “You”

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This may be what many would consider a hot take, but it’s certainly not an intentional one. While it wasn’t necessarily what I was looking for from the band back when it was released, 1998’s Up has really grown on me over the years. Is it an overlong collection of subdued, electronica-tinged songs that stands in stark contrast to virtually everything else the band has done? Yes, which is precisely why I like it so much!

I’ll give R.E.M. a ton of credit; they could’ve easily replaced Berry with a hired gun and kept on chuggin’ along like it was 1995. Instead, the band opted to leave an empty seat at the table. Of all the post-Berry releases, the drummer’s absence is ‘felt’ most acutely on Up. Hardcore fans likely already knew that Berry was so much more than simply ‘the drummer,’ but R.E.M. seemed hell-bent on acknowledging their former mate’s massively underappreciated contributions by leaving space for where they likely would have appeared.

The result is what I’ve come to view as a refreshing departure for the band. Look, I’ll be the first to admit that R.E.M.’s first post-Berry release is far from flawless. But, it’s also not the dated mess that many seem content to dismiss it as. In fact, tracks like “Lotus” and “Daysleeper” probably work on any of the ‘90s releases. I’ll dive in a little further below, but if you’ve made it this far, I encourage you to give Up a fresh listen–you just might find a hidden gem (or three).

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

I know it’s a celebrated classic, but this album has so much more to offer than “Daysleeper.” Be it the brooding “Airportman,” the defiant strut of “Lotus,” or the  Beach Boys-esque “At My Most Beautiful,” the band (for better or worse) broke a ton of new ground here.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

When people dismiss Up as dated electro-pop, it’s because of songs like “Hope,” which (despite being a rare upbeat moment) is repetitive to the point that it begins to drag. There’s also a glut of mid-tempo cuts on the album’s back half (and a clunker of a closer) that contribute to the idea that Up is a chore to get through. Again, I’d contend that it’s a matter of adjusting expectations, but whatevs.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

R.E.M. isn’t necessarily known for crafting six-minute-long, multi-part epics, but “Diminished” is easily their best. The haunting ballad features an amazing lyric and vocal from Stipe and is the perfect example of why I love this album.

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)

I have never hurt anything, Is the justice wavering?, Does she know I sing that song?, Sing along – “Diminished”

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Many consider New Adventures in Hi-Fi the unsung gem from R.E.M.’s middle period. Largely written and recorded while on tour for 1994’s Monster, the album is a louder, more diverse version of its predecessor. Be it fuzz-drenched anthems (like “The Wake-Up Bomb” and “Bittersweet Me”) or road-worn strummers (like “New Test Leper”), New Adventures succeeds at capturing the sound of a band firing on all cylinders. It’s also one of their most challenging releases.

I mean, songs like “E-Bow the Letter” and “Electrolite” are easily among the band’s best work. But with fourteen tracks clocking in at over sixty-five minutes, this is hardly a perfect album. Still, as a sonic ode to a months-long tour during which three-quarters of the band wound up hospitalized, ‘flawless’ was probably never the point.

Notably, Bill Berry’s final project with the band, New Adventures in Hi-Fi marked the end of an era. R.E.M. was far from over, but their critical, commercial, and (arguably) artistic peak was suddenly behind them. I’m forever grateful that the band soldiered on, but there’s a part of me that’ll always wonder how R.E.M. would be remembered if this is where they’d decided to call it quits.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

Songs like “New Test Leper” and “Electrolite” endure as fan favorites (and rightfully so), while “Bittersweet Me” plays like a tighter/better version of “Bang and Blame.” “How The West Was Won and Where It Got Us” is one of the band’s best album openers (and when you consider the list, that’s saying something).

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

I’ve tried, and tried, and tried, but I simply cannot stand “Leave.” A car-alarm going off for seven minutes might not bug some people, but it gives this writer nothing but anxiety. Fortunately, there’s an alternate low-key version on the New Adventures re-release.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

Be it the driving piano, the vintage Peter Buck riff, or the genius Stipe lyric, “So Fast, So Numb” is the epitome of a sneaky good deep cut–if you can’t remember the last time you listened to New Adventures, songs like this are a reason to revisit R.E.M.’s tenth album.

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)

I’d sooner chew my leg off, Than be trapped in this, How easy you think of all of this as bittersweet me – “Bittersweet Me”

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R.E.M.’s best-selling album, Out of Time is the beginning of the band’s commercial peak. It is also the perfect bridge between the anthemic arena rock of its predecessor (Green) and the brooding focus of the band’s magnum opus, Automatic For The People. The band had long conquered the college-rock landscape, but everything changed in 1991. Thanks to the universal embracing of an unconventional single by radio (as well as round-the-clock play on MTV), R.E.M. finally crossed over into pop-culture consciousness.

As with its predecessor (Green), Out of Time suffers from an uneven tracklist. The pair of almost-instrumentals (“Endgame,” “Belong”) sandwiching “Shiny Happy People” essentially cancels out any sense of momentum established by an otherwise tremendous opening salvo. Still, Out of Time didn’t sell nearly twenty million albums by accident.

To that point, it’s nearly impossible to discuss R.E.M.’s ascent from enigmatic indie-rockers to stadium-filling pop stars without mentioning the brooding, minor-key anthem “Losing My Religion.” I’ve probably heard the song ten thousand times over the years, and I’ve yet to tire of it. Obviously, the album was more than merely a vehicle for a crossover hit, but let’s be honest–for millions (billions?) of non-fans, R.E.M. will forever be the answer to, Hey, who sang that Losin’ My Religion song?

For some, Out Of Time was the final nail in the coffin of their favorite indie-rock band. For others, it marked the first time they heard R.E.M. on the radio. But whether it was a new beginning or merely the beginning of the end, it’s hard to argue with the resonating impact of Out Of Time, a record that was, above all else, a critical turning point for R.E.M.

It’s also pretty astounding that R.E.M.s best-selling album doesn’t even crack this ranking’s top 5.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

Virtually everyone zeroes in on “Country Feedback,” and for good reason–the song is an absolute high-watermark for Stipe and the rest of the band. “Me In Honey” might be the R.E.M.’s best album-closer, thanks in large part to Kate Pierson’s fantastic performance.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

In addition to the almost-instrumentals, there are two Mike Mills tracks on here–lose one of each (I’d keep “Texarkana”) and chop two minutes off of “Low,” and Out of Time instantly flows way better.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

It’s difficult to find a ‘deep cut’ on an album with so much commercial success, but after years of dabbling with sparse, folk-rock excursions, “Half a World Away” finds the band nailing ‘it’ on all fronts. 

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)

It’s crazy what you could’ve had, I need this – “Country Feedback”

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During my record store days, I often recommended 1988’s Green as a point of entry for the casual (i.e., ‘90s) fan looking to sample what a pre-Monster R.E.M. was all about. My reasoning? Well, Green essentially served as a transitional bridge between the band’s IRS years and the massive folk-tinged success of the early ‘90s.

Sure, songs like “Orange Crush” and “Turn You Inside-Out” may have felt like heavy-handed nods to Document, but they still rocked. And Peter Buck’s love affair with the mandolin essentially begins here–you can draw a pretty straight line from “You Are the Everything” and “World Leader Pretend” to “Losing My Religion.” The world might’ve jumped on board with Out of Time, but I’d counter that Green provided the template for R.E.M.’s biggest albums.

My only real gripe with Green is that it’s a bit of an uneven listen–every burst of uptempo energy is answered with a subdued slice of folk. That said, I freaking love this record. For a so-called ‘sell-out’ album, Green is refreshingly dynamic, intriguing, and a bit weird. Sure, not every left-turn works, but the highs (like “Pop Song 89” and “I Remember California”) are up there with the band’s best work.

I can’t shake the feeling that Green should be higher on this list, but when a band has multiple masterpieces, what are you gonna do?

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

You’d be hard-pressed to find a stranger pair of number-one singles, but “Orange Crush” and “Stand” have stood the test of time for a reason (yes, I really like “Stand”). “Turn You Inside-Out” is another personal favorite that finds Stipe delivering one of his most confident vocals to date.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

I understand what he’s singing, why he’s singing it that way, and I fully acknowledge that it’s a profoundly captivating lyric and performance, but there’s something about Stipe’s delivery on “The Wrong Child” that I’ve never been able to get into.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

If it weren’t for the wonky overdubbed snare, I’d probably go with “World Leader Pretend.” Instead, I’m going to spotlight “I Remember California” if for no other reason than it’s one of the most haunting things R.E.M. ever recorded (always felt like it belonged in a David Lynch film).

This One Goes Out To… (Favorite Lyric and/or Moment)

Run a carbon-black test on my jaw, and you will find it’s all been said before – “Hairshirt”

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Toss-Up Territory

It’s one thing to drop a stellar debut–you have your whole life to write that first record–but the list of bands that manage to side-step that dreaded sophomore slump isn’t as long as you might think. And somewhere near the top of that list (probably between Fun House and Nevermind) is 1984’s Reckoning.

It’s not that Reckoning sounds a million miles away from Murmur–it doesn’t. In fact, with Mitch Easter and Don Dixon once again behind the board, the albums are sonically of a piece. The songwriting isn’t all that different, either. No, the biggest difference between R.E.M.’s first and second albums is, well, R.E.M. The band simply ‘upped their game’ on every front. The playing is tighter, the harmonies are tighter, and, hell, even Stipe’s vocals are tighter.

At just under thirty-nine minutes, the ten tracks that comprise Reckoning arguably represent one of R.E.M.’s most concise and focused musical statements. Still, the band explores an impressive amount of stylistic ground. Be it punk-tinged toe-tappers (“Little America”), countrified anthems (“(Don’t Go Back to) Rockville”), or even a pair of reflective ballads (“Time After Time,” “Camera”), R.E.M. decidedly answered any concerns regarding their ability to follow up that awe-inspiring debut.

Regarding this ranking, I’m still not sure if I have Reckoning in the right spot. Whenever I listen to the album (especially the A-side), I find myself thinking, yeah, this is their peak. But then, of course, there are half a dozen other R.E.M. records that inspire a similar reaction, so the carousel of indecision never really ends.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

“7 Chinese Brothers,” “Pretty Persuasion,” and “(Don’t Go Back to) Rockville” were live staples for a reason, but on a damn near flawless album, “So. Central Rain (I’m Sorry)” might just be the most important song of R.E.M.’s career.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

Sorry Stephen, but I really dig “Time After Time.” In fact, I’m not sure there’s a second of this album that I’d change, but I do wish the band had flipped “Little America” and “Camera” in the tracklisting (I like the symmetry of closing each side with a ballad), so I guess there’s that.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

An underrated gem, “Second Guessing” kicks off the back half of Reckoning with a bang and is one of the punkiest moments from the band’s early years.

Favorite Lyric and/or Moment

The biggest wagon is the empty wagon is the noisiest, The consul a horse, Jefferson I think we’re lost – “Little America”

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On the heels of the dark/weird/experimental Fables of the Reconstruction, Lifes Rich Pageant is often painted as a return to form. On the surface, R.E.M.’s fourth release certainly feels in line with what their fanbase had come to expect. However, I prefer to view Lifes Rich Pageant as the foundational template for the band’s imminent major-label success.

The most obvious change here is in the vocals department–fans could finally hear Stipe clearly in the mix. And what they heard was the sound of a singer coming into his own, brimming with confidence and some surprising range. The rest of the band is firing on all cylinders as well. Despite the reverb-drenched mix, fans could finally feel the impact of Mills and Berry. Meanwhile, Buck shines on the guitar-heavy first half while also giving a nod to the folk experimentation to come (on songs like “Swan Swan H).”

Of course, none of the above would matter if it weren’t for the songs. The opening run of “Begin the Begin” through “Cuyahoga” represents what might be the best opening salvo in the R.E.M. catalog. The record admittedly drops off a bit from there, but just barely. Depending on one’s perspective, Lifes Rich Pageant is the band’s last ‘great’ album or the beginning of their golden era–either way, it’s a gem of a record.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

“Fall On Me” is an obvious choice here, but the Mike Mills-sung “Superman” has received a fair amount of airplay over the years as well. “Begin the Begin” is one of the band’s best opening tracks and “Cuyahoga” will always be a personal favorite (the river is literally in my backyard).

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

“Superman” might be a fan favorite, but I borderline can’t stand the song and am happy it’s tacked on at the end of the album like the afterthought it probably was. Also, setting aside the awesome guitar solo, I’m still waiting for “The Flowers of Guatemala” to click.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

Take a fantastic lyric and pair it with a soaring vocal, and you have “What If We Give it Away,” one of the band’s best deep cuts. It’s pretty astounding that songs like this and “Fall On Me” are only a few years removed from the Stipe we heard mumbling (albeit, brilliantly) his way through Murmur.

Favorite Lyric and/or Moment

“There’s the progress we have found, A way to talk around the problem, Building towered foresight Isn’t anything at all ” – “Fall On Me”

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There’s a reason why R.E.M.’s ‘IRS’ years are so revered by fans and critics (who tend to be fans themselves) alike. The band entered the scene confident and fully-formed, and in the process delivered one seminal release after another. And while each of their first four releases are championed by many as certifiable classics, I consider album number five (1987’s Document) to be a cover-to-cover masterpiece. Not their first masterpiece, mind you, but their first polished masterpiece.

In many ways, Document marks the end of one era, and beginning of another–a transition, if you will. The band’s last album for IRS marks the beginning of a decade-long relationship working with Scott Litt. It’s also an album that finds R.E.M. refining the sonic hallmarks of their first four releases, crafting a focused batch of sounds both fresh and familiar. Stipe had finally come into his own, and his voice confidently soars above the crystal clear mix like never before. As for the rest of the band, R.E.M. sounded tight from day one, but Document marks the first time they sounded ‘big.’ 

The resulting record gave R.E.M. its first hint of crossover success and a top-ten single (“The One I Love”) to boot. The album also ‘rocks’ like little else in their catalog. Berry’s drums, in particular, take center stage, adding some tangible energy to even the album’s mid-tempo moments. What can I say? Everyone’s favorite ‘college’ band had finally graduated.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

Everyone knows “The One I Love” and “It’s The End Of the World as We Know It,” but for my money “Finest Worksong” is R.E.M.’s best opener.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

Make no mistake–there’s nothing on this record I’d consider removing. That said, the folk-tinged “King of Birds” feels like an early draft of something R.E.M. would perfect on future albums.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

The entire first half is chock full of classics, but “Fireplace” might be my favorite ‘deep-cut’ from this entire era of the band (that sax solo!).

Favorite Lyric and/or Moment

A simple prop to occupy my time, This one goes out to the one I love – “The One I Love”

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On virtually every ‘best of R.E.M.’ list floating around online, you’ll find the band’s debut floating somewhere near the top. The term ‘fully formed’ often gets tossed around when discussing seminal debuts, but in the case of Murmur, it’s more than warranted. The album is proof positive that the band’s legendary Byrds-by-way-of-CBGB formula was there in spades from the beginning.

Not unlike Pearl Jam’s Ten, there’s a large contingent of R.E.M.’s fan base that considers Murmur their peak. I won’t quite go that far (at least, not today), but I fully agree that Murmur is a historically great debut that deserves all the praise it receives. I’ll also give Stipe and Co. a ton of credit for sticking to their artistic guns–their flat-out refusal to allow IRS to interfere with the album’s sound (the label famously wanted it to sound more contemporary, i.e., ‘80s) paid massive dividends. Murmur is as fresh and immediate sounding as the day it was released, in part because of the album’s ‘live-off-the-floor,’ sans-synths production. 

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the songs. Be it that stunning album-opener (“Radio Free Europe”) or the sublime “Talk About the Passion,” R.E.M.’s penchant for timeless singles was there from day one. As someone who came on board with the band in the late ‘80s, Murmur isn’t necessarily the point from which I measure the rest of R.E.M.’s output. That said, like so much of the band’s catalog, my appreciation for this stunning debut only seems to grow with each passing year. I listen to Murmur more now than I did thirty years ago–talk about ‘staying power.’

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

Depending on which era you prefer, Murmur is either all ‘highlights’ or a stunning collection of ‘deep cuts.’ Of course, the right answer is both! In lieu of simply typing out the tracklisting, I’m gonna point out “Pilgrimage,” “Talk About the Passion,” and “Sitting Still” as must-listens.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

Hmmm–picking nits territory here we come. I suppose “West of the Fields” has always been a tough one for me to wrap my head around if for no other reason than the hi-hat and competing vocals in the chorus makes it sound like Stipe is singing ‘west of f-f-fields.’ 

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

I freaking love “Moral Kiosk” and “Catapult”–straight-up bangers! “We Walk,” however, is a brilliant change-of-pace left turn that never ceases to put a smile on my face.

Favorite Lyric and/or Moment

“Not everyone can carry the weight of the world” – “Talk About the Passion”

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Somewhere in between the IRS classics and those late-career head-scratchers, R.E.M. dropped an awe-inspiring masterpiece. 1992’s Automatic for the People was written and recorded during a period when R.E.M. had essentially sworn off touring. The album saw the band all but ditching their electric instruments and doubling down on the folk-tinged flourishes that had permeated their prior release, Out of Time. Given the massive success of “Losing My Religion,” you could hardly blame R.E.M. for opting to dive deeper into folk-rock. Automatic For The People, however, is anything but a retread.

For starters, the acoustic-driven instrumentation is elevated by a healthy dose of orchestral embellishments (courtesy of none other than John Paul Jones). The understated arrangements and lush production add an equally effective air of melancholia to the album. That all said, this is far from your standard singer-songwriter fare. Never before had the band so effectively employed atmosphere, a point underscored by the haunting album-opening “Drive” and the feedback-drenched “Sweetness Follows.” Meanwhile, tracks like the anthemic “Man on the Moon,” “Everybody Hurts,” and nostalgia-tinged “Nightswimming” are a testament to the potency of sincerity. 

Even when the album ‘feels’ upbeat, Stipe’s lyrics remain pensive. With tracks like “Try Not to Breathe” and “Find the River,” Stipe deftly tackles themes of loss and mortality with a surprisingly candid touch. To that point, Automatic For The People is Michael Stipe’s finest hour, and considering the man’s body of work, that’s saying something. The same could be said for the band as a whole–never before had the Berry/Mills rhythm section sounded so clear, and Peter Buck’s intricate guitar work shines throughout. 

The band had finally mastered the art of ‘less is more,’ resulting in a timeless, uncluttered mix where everyone has an opportunity to shine. There’s little here (save for “Ignoreland”) that will remind anyone of R.E.M.’s punk-laced heyday, but that wasn’t the point. Automatic For The People was the sound of a band taking a collective breath and stock of where they were. 

So regardless of whether you associate the band with their indie-minded ‘IRS’ years, the folk-infused chart success of the late ’80s, or the full-blown arena-rock status they achieved in the mid-90s, where there is arguably a version of R.E.M. for just about anyone, Automatic For The People was perhaps the only time when they would so clearly be for everyone.

I don’t think I could love an album more.

A Perfect Circle (Highlights)

They’d already conquered the college rock airwaves but tracks like “Man on the Moon” and “Everybody Hurts” fully cemented the band’s mainstream success. And I suspect R.E.M. might not have been so eager to take so many artistic risks (on the likes of Monster and New Adventures In Hi-Fi) had they not already seen the view from the top of the mountain.

Ignoreland (Lowlights)

Nope.

The Sweetness Follows (Best Deep Cut)

Even though it found its way onto a soundtrack (for Cameron Crowe’s brilliant, underrated Vanilla Sky), “Sweetness Follows” is a quintessential deep cut. It also moves me like virtually no other piece of music can. Hats off to Peter Buck for constructing an all-time guitar solo comprised entirely of feedback–now that’s a guitar hero moment.

Favorite Lyric and/or Moment

Nightswimming, remembering that night, September’s coming soon, I’m pining for the moon – “Nightswimming”

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A Final Note:

Well, there you go–that’s one man’s take on R.E.M.’s catalog. And, honestly, I don’t think I’ve had a more difficult time ranking a band’s albums. Given the range of opinions and dozens of rankings floating around, I probably shouldn’t be surprised. R.E.M. might be finished, but their music continues to resonate with those of us still listening. If you’ve made it this far, I hope this article inspired you to revisit R.E.M.