R.E.M.

This is easily the band's most powerful, cohesive album from its indie days. R.E.M.'s first few records demonstrated they had their own sound; this one proved they could ride that sound anywhere they felt like. Peter Buck's unforgettable guitar licks drive Michael Stipe's otherworldly voice deeper into that mystery he always sounds seconds away from revealing, then Mike Mills distracts you with an unexpected harmony and everything starts all over again, only better. Every track's such a stunner that listening straight through will leave you breathless.

For their fourth album, R.E.M., who previously bought their sonic murk in bulk, hired John
Cougar Mellencamp's producer. "It's a great-sounding record, but I really hated [producer]
Don Gehman at the time," lead singer Michael Stipe said years later about being pushed to
be less willfully obscure. "It was like throwing a baby into ice-cold water and leaving it
there." If Lucite-clear sound wasn't kind to some of Stipe's lyrics -- "I believe in c... More >

Musically, this talented minor band's fastest-breaking album represents no significant departure from the past, though just how many recapitulations of their lyricism one needs is clearly beginning to trouble those who took it too seriously in the first place. The players still make them and the singer-lyricist still refuses to define them, and while his projection has improved, it's hardly crystalline and wouldn't tell you anything you didn't know if it was. I mean, this is music for mushheads, and that it retains an undeniable if rather abstract charm only proves that there's a little mushhead in all of us. I give album four the nod over number three for its compelling snare sound and dynamic cover version. And insist that any normal person can make do with number one, when all this was a tad more spontaneous. (Grade - B+)