1984 album in review: R.E.M.-- Reckoning

In my latest sporadically published posts about 1984 albums, I tackle R.E.M.'s second album, Reckoning.

This is yet another album I discovered after the fact. It was that hallowed autumn of 1986 that I have mentioned at least a few times in this blog. I had already heard "Fall on Me" that summer and quickly went out and bought a cassette of Lifes Rich Pageant at the Camelot Music in Saginaw's Fashion Square Mall. A month or so later, I arrived at Michigan State and quickly learned that, compared to several other kids, I was an R.E.M. newbie. I was "tripled" in my dorm room at MSU, which means I had two  other roommates. (We were assured by the university that as we settled into the school year, the "triple" would revert to a "double." Of course, I couldn't help but worry who would be the odd man out). Anyway, one of my roommates was a guy named Tim F. Tim was cool. Tim was the first to arrive and already had posters of the movie Eraserhead and Brazil on the wall. He had posters of Husker Du and R.E.M. I had no fucking idea what Eraserhead, Brazil, or Husker Du were. I at least knew who R.E.M. were, but only having Lifes Rich Pageant made me feel like a complete dork. Oh great, I was an oddball at high school and now here I am, already an oddball in college. Hopelessly uncool.

If Tim thought I was uncool, he never said anything, but I did feel like I was being judged. Thankfully, our third roommate, John, was a smalltown guy like me and I felt that we were both in the same boat as far as our Hipster Quotient went. 

After a few weeks, our tripling quandary was solved. Tim had a friend (no doubt as cool or even cooler than him) on the other side of the residence hall who needed a roommate, and he moved out. John and I remained together and became fairly good friends and still remain in contact to this day.

Now back to R.E.M. It wasn't Tim who turned me on to the band's back catalog, since he was likely too busy hanging out with his girlfriend or just being a cool dude. It was a girl named Tonya on our "sister floor" who tipped me off to an album called Murmur. Tonya was hipper than me but didn't have an attitude about it. She was open and generous and for that, I will always be grateful. She let me borrow her cassette copy of Murmur, and after I heard that album, I knew I was in love with this band. I don't know exactly what order I bought R.E.M.'s back catalog, but by the end of November 1986, I probably had all of R.E.M.'s albums.

What can I say about an album I have listened to countless hundreds, maybe even thousands, of times since I first bought it? What can I really add to the many essays about and reviews of this album and this band? I started this blog post yesterday by quickly writing first impressions of the album as I played it in my kitchen. I have to say that after I read over those notes, I liked the stream-of-consciousness composition. It seemed fitting considering Michael Stipe's impressionistic lyrics. I hope this doesn't seem lazy of me, but other than a little bit of editing, I have left these impressions fairly close to how I first wrote them. So, here you go, here is Reckoning...

Let me start with the album sleeve. The folk art of Howard Finster. This was still the "weird Southern gothic" stage of R.E.M.'s career, and the art of Finster--who was beloved by the band--is fitting. It is murky and swirling and unlike most any other album sleeve one would see in the 1980s.

Now to the songs:

Harborcoat. What is a harborcoat? I see references to harbor jackets? I imagine it as looking like a pea coat. The song of course evokes images of a windy wet seaside. Though I have not looked at the lyrics. I don't really look too hard at REM lyric sheets from this era. How accurate are they anyway? "A handshake is worthy if it's all that you've got" is a good aphorism. That is something to live by. We should judge people on their character and not on their material possessions. I wonder if Michael came up with that himself or if it was overheard or read in a book?

And now on to 7 Chinese Bros. The smell of sweet short haired boy? Hmm. Wait, the lyric sheets I see on the web say this is "mellow sweet short haired boy." Have I been singing this line wrong for almost 40 years? I like my lyrics better. 

More 7 Chinese Bros. Who listening to this song doesn't think of the book The Five Chinese Brothers, a book I later discovered many--like me--were freaked out by when the boy is depicted swallowing the ocean and his face expands to a grotesque shape. Though, if I am not mistaken, only one of the Chinese brothers in the book could swallow the ocean and not all seven as seems to be the case in the song, but is my reading of these lyrics far too literal? Possibly.

"She will return." evokes longing. Who will return? Should I actually look at the lyrics this time?

So. Central Rain. One of my favorites, especially the "I'm sorry!" refrain. There do seem many instances of longing and regret on this album. Lost love, broken relationships. "This choice wasn't mine." Bill Berry's drumming adds intensity to the song. It was the video of this song, that I finally saw on the video compilation R.E.M. Succumbs, that made me love this song even more. The band behind screens except for Stipe who is wearing big headphones. Don Dixon said Stipe didn't want to lip sync. He is actually singing live and is incredible.

Pretty Persuasion. I always think of being at a frat party at Alpha Delta Phi and hearing this cranking loudly out of big speakers. (And no, I didn't make a habit of going to frat parties, if you want to know. Had a friend in the frat, who later left the frat, but I digress). This song is another favorite. Peter's big sweeping guitar riffs. I don't know how else to describe them. The song has a forward momentum.

Time After Time. Droning Velvet Underground-like guitar line from Peter is probably the most distinctive aspect of this song. Peter Buck has a guitar break with some Bill Berry (?) percussion that reminds me a bit of Aaron Copeland's "Fanfare for the Common Man."

Second Guessing, a nice little rocker. "Why you trying to second guess me? I am tired of second guessing." At least that is how I heard those lyrics. "Who will be your book this season?" There is some anger in this song. A confrontation. Disagreements. Discord between two people.

Letter Never Sent continues with the theme of regret. "Seven shows are on the air"--the way I have always heard it--is actually "Heaven is yours?" Are we sure about that? Who cares. These songs are mainly about vibes and the feelings they evoke. Maybe a snipped of lyric that grabs you is what is most important.

Then the emotional Camera. "Alone in a crowd" "If I'm to be your camera, then who will be your face" I have read this is about a friend of the band who died. I can't make heads or tails of the the lyrics, quite honestly. Big surprise, eh. But once again, loneliness and regret and longing are the emotions I get from this song. Stipe sings with such sadness and despondency. 

Another digression: "Mope rock", so many people I knew referred to R.E.M. as mope rock in the '80s. They didn't fit in with the Motley Crues, Def Leppards, Whitesnakes, Madonnas that were dominating the pop charts in the 1980s and listening habits of a good portion of my fellow collegians. It did sometimes question whether I was, in fact, a "sad person" listening to allegedly depressing music like R.E.M. But I would take them over the schlock mentioned in this paragraph. (In fairness, both Def Leppard and Madonna had their moments).

Don't Go Back to Rockville. Now, my moment of Zen with this song is hearing The Half Smokes cover it in a bar, IN ROCKVILLE, MARYLAND! That was at SuburbsFest '23. This is a song that was written entirely by Mike Mills. The theme of longing and regret continues in this, the most straightforward song on the album. This is Americana before there was a name for it.

The album concludes with Little America. A song that is ostensibly about a band on tour, specifically R.E.M. touring in the South. "Jefferson, I think we're lost." Jefferson being the band's manager, Jefferson Holt. The swirl of references is the musical/lyrical equivalent of looking out the window of a tour bus or van as the shopping strips, highways, street signs, farms, houses, and multiple businesses zip by one's eyes. Peter Buck's opening guitar riff is like a clarion call. It's anthemic, and the song careens like a rusty old van barreling down the highway from Greenville, South Carolina to Athens, Georgia with who knows how many stops along the way.