1984 album in review: The Replacements--Let It Be
Though Slim didn't join the Replacements (aka the 'Mats) until 1987, this seems the perfect time to write about the band's 1984 album Let It Be, and thus continue with this little series on 1984 long players.
Let's rewind to that magical year of 1986, the year I have rhapsodized about so often in this blog. I don't remember exactly how this happened, but sometime in autumn '86, Ron P.--an older guy who lived on my dorm floor--let me borrow his vinyl copy of Let It Be. I assume this has to do with the R.E.M. factor. Ron may have thought that Let It Be was similar enough to R.E.M. that I'd like it, and maybe it also had to do with R.E.M.'s Peter Buck being guest guitarist on the opening track, "I Will Dare." (All roads lead back to R.E.M.).
Allow me to digress for a moment and say a retrospective "thank you" to all the people I met in college, and even post-college, who turned me on to new music. All those fellow music geeks who said, "hey, if you like them, you might like this." In the days before Spotify algorithms or YouTube suggestions, this is how we broadened our musical horizons.
Allow me to digress a bit further. Looking back through the murky mists of time, I'm not sure what Replacements record I heard first. I must have had somebody--probably Ron--tell me that the Replacements were good, and that made me go search for their records. I do know for a fact that Stink was the first Replacements album I owned. I bought it at Flat, Black, and Circular, and I imagine I bought it because it was the only 'Mats album they had at that point.
Now, back to the Replacements. They emerged from Minneapolis in the early '80s as a kinda sorta punk band. These four misfits played punkish music, but their hearts didn't seem to be entirely in that genre. They loved KISS and the Faces too much, and deep down, principal songwriter Paul Westerberg was too much of a sensitive, deeply observant poet to maintain the "don't give a fuck" punk pose.
The Replacements' first three records (Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash; Stink, and Hootenanny) are careening, sloppy "punk 'n' roll" records, punctuated by a few introspective Westerberg gems like "Johnny's Gonna Die," "Go," "Within Your Reach," and "Willpower."
Let It Be bridges the gap between their previous bratty, juvenile (yet fun) pop punk and introspective alt rock and balladry that Westerberg was slowly and gently incorporating in the band's repertoire.
The band had plenty of "don't give a fuck" attitude in just naming the album after one of rock's sacred cows. (You know, that other Let It Be by those four guys from Liverpool). I have always assumed that the cover photo of the 'Mats on porch roof of Bob and Tommy Stinson's house was a nod to the Beatles' Let It Be rooftop concert--but I could be dead wrong. (Go to the source of all human knowledge, Wikipedia, for more information. Better yet, read Bob Mehr's excellent bio of the Replacements, Trouble Boys).
It's now been 38 years since I first heard the Replacements' Let It Be, but I can still picture myself sitting on the floor of my dorm room (G-31, East Shaw) when the opening track "I Will Dare" casually sauntered out of the speakers of my dinky Emerson M-2500 stereo--the one I'd received for Christmas of 1983. (College quickly educated me in what state of the art, high-end stereo equipment looked like and how thoroughly inadequate my modest Emerson was). If my only experience with the band was Stink, then this song had to have come as a shock--but a pleasant shock.
I will take the same approach I had with Depeche Mode's Some Great Reward and go through Let It Be track-by-track.
I Will Dare
The folkiest, jangliest song the Replacements had ever recorded up to this point. Paul Westerberg plays a mandolin, for gosh sakes! Westerberg's characteristic witty wordplay is on display, as well. "Let's count the rings around my eyes," "Ain't lost yet, so I gotta be a winner."
This song seems to be about a "May-December" relationship and the potential danger it creates, unless I'm taking the lyrics too literally--which is entirely possible. In any case, it's one of the band's best ever songs and an outstanding opening track.
Favorite Thing
There is no subtlety to this song, it's just a breakneck rocker. The lyrics sound tossed off and possibly created on the spot when the song was recorded, but does contain the funny line, "Yeah, I know I look like hell/I smoke and I drink and I'm feeling swell." This could describe the entire band's condition between 1979 and 1991.
We're Comin' Out
There is some truly unhinged but exhilarating Bob Stinson guitar playing in this blast of rock 'n' roll fury. "One more chance to get it all wrong" is yet another line that is an apt description of the Replacements' self-destructive tendencies.
Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out
The third consecutive no-holds-barred rock song on the album. It's as if the band were making amends for the proto-Americana jangle of "I Will Dare." It may have been a peace offering from Paul Westerberg to band's resident rocker Bob Stinson, who complained that he couldn't come up with a suitable guitar solo for the laid back "I Will Dare."
This song is an amusing tale of a rich, sadistic doctor with questionable hygiene who wants to quickly rip out poor Tommy's tonsils so he doesn't miss his tee time at the golf club. The song is a throwback to the ridiculous, comical, snotty tunes the 'Mats recorded on their first three records. There's nothing wrong with "Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out," and it can be great fun in the right mood, but it's clearly a lesser track on the album.
Androgynous
This is a tough song to tackle. I'm not sure how it's perceived in 2024, but in the '80s it seemed progressive: a nonjudgemental look at "androgynous" men and women. I'm probably not the best judge of how relevant this song is today, but I believed then and still believe that it's remarkably sensitive and forward-thinking for 1984.
Musically, it has an intimate, dark, smokey lounge feel to it, similar to other Replacements songs such as "Swingin' Party," and "Nightclub Jitters." I can picture Westerberg playing it solo late at night in front of a small crowd of wine-swilling, cigarette smoking stragglers in a tiny club.
Black Diamond
For an "alternative"/"college rock" performer or band, KISS wasn't considered quite as cool in 1984 as they are now, which is why it was brave for the Replacements to essentially say "fuck you" to the haters and cover a KISS song. The Replacements perform a faithful version of this song, making it clear that the genuinely loved KISS.
Unsatisfied
One of the best songs on the album and a heart-on-its-sleeve protest song.
Seen Your Video
This is a relic of the MTV '80s and probably doesn't have the same power that it had back then. The Replacements hated making videos and went out of their way to make piss take "anti-videos" for their singles. The long instrumental intro is probably the best part of the song.
Gary's Got a Boner
A companion piece to "Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out," but not as good. The weakest track on the album.
Sixteen Blue
After two subpar filler tracks, the 'Mats are back with this sensitive and sympathetic portrait of a teenager and the awkwardness and insecurity that goes with that age. "Your age is the hardest age/Everything drags and drags."
Answering Machine
The album concludes the with raw, anguished howl of "Answering Machine." Paul Westerberg's voice has rarely sounded as emotionally naked as it does on this song. "How do you say I miss you to an answering machine?" (In the modern era of instant messaging and texts, the frustration of telephone answering machines is a relic of the past).
I'd like to say that I instantly became a Replacements fan after hearing Let It Be, but in truth it was a slow burn. By the end of the 1986-87 school year, I had bought Ron's vinyl copy of the album--and still have it to this day. (I hope Ron doesn't know how much the original Twin/Tone release of this album is going for on Discogs and eBay. He'd rue the day he sold it to me for about three dollars).
I slowly fell in love with the album, and at some point, in about 1987 I picked up their 1985 album Tim, which I liked just as much if not more than Let It Be. Overall, the songwriting is more mature on Tim and it lacks the tossed off silliness of songs like "Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out" or "Gary's Got a Boner."
Once again, it's not that I hate those songs--they can be fun to hear in the right mood--but I much prefer the Replacements/Westerberg songs that are more considered and thoughtful.
In 2024, the Replacements are among my all-time favorite bands. Their music has always been there for me and never fails to be comforting and inspirational in good times and bad.
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