brent johnson reflects upon the news that one of America’s best bands has broken up after 30 years …
In the ’80s, they helped invent modern alternative rock. In the ’90s, they went from cult icons to MTV stars. In the 21st century, they became Rock & Roll Hall Of Famers.
But about an hour ago, one of the most important and influential American rock bands sent out this message via their website and Facebook:
“To our Fans and Friends: As R.E.M., and as lifelong friends and co-conspirators, we have decided to call it a day as a band. We walk away with a great sense of gratitude, of finality, and of astonishment at all we have accomplished. To anyone who ever felt touched by our music, our deepest thanks for listening.”
Of course, R.E.M. leaves us three decades of music — an accomplishment most bands never sniff. And of course, their work has tailed over the last decade with lackluster albums. But still, it’s sad.
For someone my age — 28 — R.E.M. has been an easy band to overlook. I wasn’t around in the early 1980s when they helped make the college town of Athens, Ga., one of the hippest places on the map. I was too young to buy their classic I.R.S. Records singles that populated college radio at a time when hair metal and George Michael ruled the charts. And because I’d heard enough of their hits over the years on radio and MTV, I could know them and appreciate them without giving them a deeper look.
But that changed when my brother gave me a copy of their 1983 debut album, Murmur, for Christmas this past year. Few records manage to sound both of their time and timeless. The Beatles had a knack for that, too.
I realized that for all their cursory success, R.E.M. is really a band you need to dig into. Their history and their catalogue are immensely interesting. How frontman Michael Stipe sang barely audible lyrics in the early days, shying his face from the camera — and refusing to print his words on record sleeves. How they managed to score a Top 10 single, 1987’s ‘The One I Love,’ on an indie record label. How they nabbed their biggest hit with a song driven by a mandolin riff (1991’s ‘Losing My Religion’).
How in many ways, they’re The Smiths of America. They have a mysterious frontman, dextrous guitarist with a penchant for jangly riffs (Peter Buck), an incredibly melodic bassist (Mike Mills), an underrated drummer (Bill Berry) — and tons and tons of great songs. Here is one of the prettiest:
Fare thee well, R.E.M. I look forward to getting to know you more — even if the music has stopped.
