R.E.M. Unplugged 1991 - 2001 (2014)
And so, having completed the run through all of the official albums, we now come to a little bit of ephemera, specifically the posthumously-released 1991 and 2001 MTV
Unplugged sessions. R.E.M. have always had a strongly acoustic side, and many singles have been littered with acoustic renditions of album tracks, so now its time to see if their reputation as a good acoustic band is well-deserved or not. Obviously this is covering two very distinct periods in the band’s history, one at the height of their popularity and critical success, and one… about the time
Reveal was released.
If I’m To Be A Camera: The 1991 album has a picture of the band from that era, the 2001 has one from that era. Both are grainy, poor images, trading in a VHS aesthetic than runs to having a tracking misalignment on the double release, and the name of the band in a big, ugly computer lettering that occupies more than half the cover. The back cover uses the same lettering to list out the tracks, and the interior is equally grainy and low-quality pictures of the band.
When You Tire Of One Side: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven and eight. Or to put it another way, the sides aren’t named.
Pre-existing Prejudices: As a student I had a dub of some of the 1991 sessions (which gives you an idea of how long ago it was since I was at university) which I listened to so often I wore the tape out. That was at Peak Prole’s-Love-Of -R.E.M. time, though I’ve rarely heard it since. For the 2001 session, no particular prejudices at all, beyond the fact that I’ve got it on vinyl. I’ve never seen either of these performances, so I’m definitely not biased by having actually viewed these. It’s all audio, baby!
Songs:
“Half A World Away”
So, off to a nice, cheery, upbeat start then. This is exactly what you’d expect of an acoustic version of this song, so Michael’s delivery an appropriately heart-felt vocal, Mike’s all over everything giving support, you know how it goes. This is a very disciplined first song, and if it’s designed to show off just how good R.E.M. can be live, it succeeds. Everyone sounds like they want to be there, and the audience make it clear this is the case. A dependable start.
“Disturbance At The Heron House”
Quiet little count in from Mike, then we’re off. Michael’s singing this much, much more gently that the album version, there’s much less venom here. Rather, he’s almost regretful in his delivery, which is terrific for the song. Peter’s picking on the lead little riff is rather wonderful on acoustic, and Bill (Bill’s there again! Hurrah!) is doing a nice little pattern on the bongos. The instrumental break is a bit ungainly, but the cut back to the leading riff is terrific. Mike steps in on backing vocals only at the “feeding time has come and gone” line, and it’s a fantastic moment.
“Radio Song”
Yes, “Radio Song”, despite the obvious absence of KRS-One. But the intro riff gets a little cheer from audience (and a slightly surprised “thanks!” from the band, which is sweet). We have a funky organ here, courtesy of Peter Holseapple, who’s fleshing out the band numbers a bit. The organ is providing backing, which is… well, I mean, it’s
there on the album version but it’s way lower in the mix. Michael does the two “the world is collapsing” lines fantastically live, and he doesn’t over-emphasize the word “sucks!” on the second verse, to the songs benefit. The instrumental break falls completely flat here (it’s only vamping on one chord, and there aren’t enough instruments to flesh it out). We are at least spared anyone from the band trying to do the rap “Not bad!” opines Michael at the end, which seems like a fair assessment.
“Low”
A song that’s basically acoustic in its album version anyway. This is delivered essentially identical to the album version (no Mike backing vocals though). It’s a terrific performance (Holsapple is on organ again, to great effect here), and gives a good idea of what a disciplined band R.E.M. are capable of being. The “you and me / we know about time” has a starling amount of drive and passion to it – Michael’s been underplaying everything else, so when he suddenly jumps in volume and forcefulness it’s quite a shock. Nothing revelatory here, but it’s a very strong performance indeed.
“Perfect Circle”
It’s not as good as the album version, but almost nothing in the history of recorded music is, so there’s that. The organ is just a touch parp-parp, not in terms of how its played, but just the sound of it. Mike’s doing full backing vocals – the start is ever so slightly shaky, but afterwards fuses with Michael’s voice delightfully. Peter’s got very little to do on the verses here, and Bill’s just marking time – this is the Mike and Michael show. Not the best track of the album, in honesty, despite the pedigree of the actual song.
“Fall On Me”
“This may well be my favourite song in the R.E.M. catalogue,” Michael tells the audience before the song kicks off. Given this performance it’s not hard to see why – it’s a song perfectly suited to an acoustic rendition. Starts off quiet but then, most gloriously, we have the three-part harmonies from Bill, Mike and Michael fully intact, and it’s lovely beyond words. Mike does the “well I would keep it above” middle-eight and his voice is a great contrast to Michael’s. Michael jumps way up before the chorus lines. Absolutely sublime (I’ll admit I had a tear in my eye listening to it).
“Belong”
As much of an excuse to show off the vocal talents of the band, this is, as with “Low”, essentially the same as the album version. The pleasure here comes here the band delivering the album version so precisely in a live setting which, given the complex vocals, is no mean feat. Michael especially is really stretching his pipes here (no insult to anyone else though). “Belong” isn’t
Out Of Time’s strongest moment, and it’s the same here – this is very good, and a terrific rendition, but it’s more of a technical exercise than anything else.
“Love Is All Around”
Cover version of The Troggs’s classic that was so completely and utterly butchered by Wet Wet Wet. This is sung by Mike, not Michael, and it’s just utterly charming beyond all reason. This song could be so corny (the Wet Wet Wet version certainly was), but Mike’s sweet sincerity makes the whole thing come alive. Michael’s on backing vocals here, doing “ba-ba-da-ba-ba”’s like there’s no tomorrow. He jumps an octave on the final verse and chorus all the way to the song’s end, a terrific moment, but this is all about Mike and he’s magnificent. Cannot recommend highly enough – a highlight not just of MTV but of the band full stop.
“It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”
It’s not hard to understand why the band wanted to do this, but it’s not a song which lends itself particularly well to an acoustic setting. Bill’s tapping away on a tambourine rather than bongos this time out (he’s on backing vocals too). Michael struggles a bit to get the lyrics out, which given the breath control you must need for this isn’t exactly a surprise, but it does mean the vocal staggers a bit. The best part of the song is the chorus, with the three singing members of the band putting some real heart into it and a nicely casual vibe. Nobody in the audience joins in with “Leonard Bernstein!” (what’s wrong with these people?) but a few do reply on the “right? Right!” Not a fail, but not an unqualified success either.
“Losing My Religion”
“This song is about you,” Michael tells the audience before we reach that song. “Losing My Religion” acoustic used to be the most ubiquitous of all R.E.M. tracks in the first half of the 90’s, but it obviously paid off because this delivered flawlessly. Michael’s on fine voice, and Peter’s doing a great job on the mandolin, as one would expect. Bill’s back on bongos (fine). Best moment is the “that was just a dream” kicking back into the chorus. Solid, but there’s not a huge amount to say about it.
“Pop Song 89”
Sloppy introduction with Peter’s riff way too quiet, but things come together by the chorus, with Mike and Michael on fine voice for “should we talk about the weather”. Peter’s sound issue is sorted by the start of the second verse (his riff gets a cheer from the audience, who can now actually hear it). Michael’s not rock-solid on the lyric, getting a few lines in the wrong order, but it doesn’t derail anything. The ending “duh-duh-duh-
duh!” and Mike sliding down the bass string is great, and it really sounds like the band enjoyed playing a more relaxed song.
“Endgame”
Uh-huh, the lyric-free end-of-side-one track from
Out Of Time. That’s an… interesting choice. Musically it’s extremely competent, and Michael does very well on the vocal, but someone’s decided that what this song lacked is… whistling. Whoever it was, they were wrong. The whistling is straightforwardly bad, though quite funny.
“Fretless”
Non album B-side of Out Of Time vintage. It’s easy to understand why this got left off the album, it might have made things a bit same-y, but as a B-side it’s one of the strongest (indeed it may actually be the strongest) the band ever released. This is an absolutely
terrific song, and Michael’s putting a huge amount of passion in to the vocal here. Lovely harmonies with Mike on the chorus. Peter’s got a nice picked riff going on, Bill’s contributing on backing vocals (on the “don’t talk to me about being alone” lines), and Mike’s got a huge yawning bass line. An absolute highlight of the album.
There’s a bit of inter-band chat as they drag out a “chestnut”, and Michael hopes he can remember the words, before…
“Swan Sawn H”
…puts in an appearance. It’s exactly the same as the album version, which is acoustic anyway. It’s lovely to hear the song, and the band clearly take great pleasure from performing it, but yeah, it’s the album version. Strong performances all round, and Peter Holsapple is doing good support work on the organ again. Good.
“Rotary 11”
Another B-side, this one completely vocal-free. Peter’s got a funky little riff going on, and Mike’s doing a bouncy bass line. Like “Rotary 10” (from
Dead Letter Office) this sounds like it should be part of the soundtrack to a late-60’s spy caper. It’s fine, a bit silly, and very endearing, if hardly essential.
“Get Up”
Michael introduces the song as a “call to action”. Like a lot of the
Green material, this is noticeably sloppier than the
Out Of Time songs, but entertainingly so. Mike’s doing his best on backing vocals, but nobody quite shines here. The instrumental break is
hilarious though, with Bill counting out “one-two-three-four” and Peter hammering a single chord relentlessly. Not bad, but far from spectacular, the best moment is the closing “aaaaah!” from Mike and Michael. The crowd obviously enjoy it though, to the band’s clear surprise.
“World Leader Pretend”
So of course as soon as I type “
Green material sloppy” we get this, a note-perfect version of “World Leader Pretend” with an accordion added to the mix. Mike’s backing vocals here are flawless, and Michael’s lead is just as good. It’s an impressive arrangement of an already deeply impressive song. The almost reverential “this is my world / and I am the world leader pretend” is genuinely moving, before the song steps back up again. Michael does these intimate kind of vocals so well – this is absolutely his song, and it’s another real highlight. As the final song of the set, it’s a perfect conclusion.
We now skip ten years into the future, travelling all the way to 2001 and…
“All The Way To Reno (You’re Gonna Be A Star)”
From the off it’s obviously a slightly more fleshed out band (there’s two musicians on stage here, rather than the original session’s one, plus Joey Waronker stepping in for Bill). This is a solid rendition of a decent song, and Michael’s sounding on good form here. There’s a bit of harmony work going on but nothing too amazing. The closing “you’re gonna be a star, you are!” is the best moment.
Michael gives us a bit of introductory patter, during which he says “the name of this band is R.E.M.” (let’s assume he knows this is a Talking Heads reference), then it’s time for…
“Electrolite”
Peter’s on banjo! Mike’s on piano! This is a relaxed, easy-going version of the song that everyone seems to greatly enjoy playing. The arrangement is basically the same as the album version, but it’s just nice to hear this get played live by people obviously taking pleasure in knocking it out. No backing vocals from Mike, but we get a lovely, galloping instrumental break, and a great sense of timing from the musical part of the band. Michael nails the last note of “I’m outta here” on the final line, which he doesn’t always do live, so props there.
“At My Most Beautiful”
More great piano work from Mike, and we’ve got more of a proper drum kit going on here (rather than just bongos or tambourine, though the latter does also put in an appearance). Michael manages to sound sweet, and the harmonies here are simply brilliant – this is all about the live vocals. A really terrific version of a song that can’t have been easy to re-tool for this kind of set-up. Rather than the cello conclusion we get a final instrumental run-through of the chorus, which works well.
“Daysleeper”
Peter’s chance to shine, as he knocks out the little picked riff with complete effortlessness. At least as good as the album version, Michael has a fabulous vocal delivery going on here, but the stripped-down, cleaner arrangement for the acoustic set-up really lets the song’s strengths shine through (and the album version is already pretty damned great). But here the melody carries a real resonance, the background organ adds proper texture and emotion (it’s not just filling out space in the stereo picture), and the builds at “I work at night!” are just amazingly well put together. The closing “my bed is pulling me” sounds positively triumphant, as well it might, for this is a real achievement. It also finishes on a major, rather than minor, which feels like a better choice that what we got on the album.
“So Central Rain”
“A beautiful song from a great long time ago,” is how Michael introduces this song, and he’s not wrong. This only has the original band members on it, Mike on piano, Peter on acoustic guitar and Michael’s hugely vulnerable vocal performance. That’s all this song needs, though – a guitar, a voice and a piano, and a perfect example of less is more. We don’t even get Mike’s backing vocals here, but there’s no sense of anything lacking here. We get a fairly long ending after the final chorus, as the musical two-thirds of the band provide more and more drive, and Michael gives some wordless vocals. Quite, quite perfect.
“Losing My Religion”
See 1991 for details. Same song, same arrangement, same conclusion.
“Country Feedback”
Let’s be clear about one thing – the album version is about as close to perfection as you could hope for. This is, somehow, better. The rediscovery of “Country Feedback” by the band after years and years of it being ignored is a rather wonderful thing to have witnessed, and this completely vindicates its inclusion here. A heartbroken delivery from Michael is one of his very best (the weariness of “it wears me out” is one of many highlights), he really gives a stunning vocal performance here. This is incredibly atmospheric, and all credit to everyone involved. The piano at the start the first “crazy what you could have” is lovely underscoring and shows how much thought has gone in to this arrangement. But then Michael
really takes off, hitting every single note from the album version, the explosion of passion, which then falls back to an extemporized vocal section that rambles on in a very Stipe-esque way, and quotes “Like A Rolling Stone” (“When you’ve got nothing / you’ve got nothing to lose”). But before that we get some amazing picking from Peter that shows off just what a skilled guitarist he can be, even as he’s fairly unshowy. Genius.
“Cuyahoga”
After the emotional depths of “Country Feedback”, a palette-cleanser. This feels more functional that the last number – nothing’s out of step here, but it’s a straightforward arrangement (some nice washing on the cymbals during the verses though). Unsurprisingly the chorus is the high point here, with the singing member of the band sweeping up to “Cuyahoga!”, though it’s now followed by the lines “has gone”, which lends a rather fatalistic note to the song, rather than its previous, rather more declarative, emphasis. This is good, but there’s just a slight sense that it could be better.
“Imitation Of Life”
Not markedly different from the album version, though like “Daysleeper” the stripped-down arrangement does give the melody more space to breathe, which is to the songs benefit. “Imitation Of Life” was one of
Reveal’s few highlights, and while you’d be hard-pressed to make the same claim here, it’s still nice to have this version, freed from the poor production of that album to simply be enjoyed as a solid slice of traditional R.E.M. Highlight here is the “This sugar cane that tasted good” part, where we get just a tambourine tap, single strummed chords, then gradually the instrumentation fills into on the way to the chorus. Not bad.
“Find The River”
Automatic’s lone contribution to proceedings. It’s a brave choice – surely “Man On The Moon” or “Everybody Hurts” would be more obvious picks. Yet by going for this the band again show perfect judgement, because this is magnificent. Michael’s yearning lead vocal sounds wonderful here, and Mike’s as-ever perfect backing vocals are doing something here they haven’t done in any other song on this set, so he’s really getting a good workout. Of course, this is a song that’s ideal for this kind of set-up, and thus it proves to be – it’s a lovely live number and the band take it for all its worth.
“The One I Love”
There’s no shortage of live versions of “The One I Love”, and this is one of the best. One of the strengths of this song is that it’s just as powerful as a regretful acoustic number as it is a searingly vicious electric one. Here we’ve just got the piano, acoustic guitar and Michael’s sigh of a lead vocal (with Mike dropping “coming down on me”’s for the chorus) – none of the additional musicians get a look-in, and for this that’s the right call. This is a fragile, delicate rendition and very, very highly recommended. Michael doesn’t reach for the high notes of the chorus’s “fire!’, but instead plays them lower and more melancholic, also the right choice. Fan. Tastic.
“Disappear”
It’s a good try, and of the
Reveal material it’s an obvious pick for an acoustic performance, but this version can’t redeem the song, because in the end the song just isn’t strong enough. Still, Peter turns in some good guitar work (Mike’s piano is a bit more scattershot), but it’s the vocal here that’s telling. On every other song Michael’s found some kind of emotional centre to the songs and communicated that through his performance – but here he just sings it. Because there’s nothing here to get much of an anchor on there’s nothing he can really add via the performance, so we get a competent vocal but absolutely nothing more.
“Beat A Drum”
A fairly charming version of a fairly charming song. No revelations here, this is just the same as the album version, and there’s no attempt to find anything new in the song. That’s OK, because this can ride along on its obvious appeal, and the sweep up to “this is all I want / it’s all I need” with Mike’s very understated backing vocals works well. The instrumental break is fleshed out with a bit of piano work that doesn’t
quite seem to know where it’s going, but the song recovers just fine, and the final verse and chorus come to rest as they should. Not a highlight by any stretch of the imagination but very enjoyable nonetheless.
“I’ve Been High”
Better than the album version, and the album version is both the best thing on
Reveal and straight-up brilliant. This is just a background organ, guitar and Michael’s beautiful little vocal performance that shows off just what a terrific voice he has. This is Michael’s moment to shine, and he delivers everything and more. The last three songs appear to be trying to mount a
Reveal restoration project, but this is the best example of that, a genuinely revelatory take on an already fantastic song. This alone makes the 2001 volume worth buying.
“I’ll Take The Rain”
Great, more
Reveal. At least in choosing the songs from that album the band have by and large chosen the right one. This version isn’t better than the album version, but it’s a decent stab. The choruses, when things should really push up, feel curiously underwhelming (this appears to be because of the instrumentation not building appropriately, rather than because of Michael’s delivery), as does the rather directionless instrumental break. This ought to be a fairly easy one to do acoustically, but it’s not really turning out that way. The verses, which are simple and heartfelt, work best here, and to be fair the final chorus finally seems to find what was missing from the others, but it’s a bit late by that point, and Michael’s vocals feel oddly exhausted (is in, he sounds tired, not that he’s delivering a tired performance). Strangely disappointing, especially following on the heels of “I’ve Been High”.
“Sad Professor”
And yet after things have apparently run out of steam, we get this very odd selection from Up, just to prove me wrong. Michael’s suddenly back on voice, and his big vocal jump on “I started I jumped up” is a real achievement live. Stripped of the huge electric guitar from the album version this all rests on Michael’s delivery to produce the same power, and he manages it with huge skill. This is actually a fantastic acoustic song, and there’s a lot of thought gone into the arrangement (the bass drum thumps during the second verse, for example). It’s a curious choice to close out the album, but it’s a hugely successful, leaving us with a blindingly good vocal performance, Mike’s excellent piano work, and Peter doing sterling support work on acoustic. Yes, a really, really well-chosen conclusion, even if exactly nobody would have guessed this is how they would have rounded the set off.
In Conclusion:
Reviewing an R.E.M. album like this is necessarily different from a run-of-the-mill studio release. For one, we’re dealing with what is essentially two releases, covering 1991 and 2001, and for two this is all about reinterpreting existing songs, rather than creating anything new. The most pleasing thing about this release, though, is that it doesn’t feel like a way of getting R.E.M. fanboys to shell out more cash after the band have split up, but rather feels like an important document of two very different times in the life of the band. The fact that there’s a whole bunch of songs released here which were recorded for the original MTV shows but never broadcast helps to re-enforce this – this isn’t simply throwing on an extra “bonus track” to get fans to buy something they already own or have heard before, but instead feels like a real attempt to give a complete portrait of the band during those two times.
1991 first, and a band who have flown higher than they could ever have possibly imagined, while still having some way to go. The 1991 performances here are – and I keep coming back to this word, but it’s true – charming. This is a band who are relaxed and at ease with themselves, who have worked their backsides off and are now seeing the fruits of their labour. There’s an emphasis on the
Out Of Time material, which makes sense – it’s a lot easier to play “Losing My Religion” live than, say, “Oddfellows Local 151”, and the band are, at least, still shoring up their position –
Out Of Time was a massive breakthrough for them, but at this point there’s no way to know if it was a one-of fluke or something that’s going to run and run. The choice of material from
Out Of Time isn’t as straightforward as it could be, and quirky choices like “Endgame” or the non-album B-side “Fretless” do show a band willing to take a bit of a chance with their set-list. Only two of the four singles from the album are present and correct (“Radio Song”, “Losing My Religion”, leaving “Shiny Happy People” and “Near Wild Heaven” to one side), but nevertheless a lot of the album is played. Equally interesting here is what’s not played, not just from
Out Of Time, but from the past. There’s only one song from
Murmur (the not-that-perfect “Perfect Circle”), nothing from
Reckoning,
Fables or
Chronic Town, and only one track from
Lifes Rich Pagaent. In other words, the emphasis is very much on the
now rather than the
then. That makes sense for a band facing their first big breakthrough, and the wealth of songs from
Green and
Out Of Time definitely give the band the chance to show off both the versatility of the material and how good they’re capable of delivering it live.
Skip forward to 2001 and it’s a different story. At the start of the new millennium the band are much more on the back foot, having lost their drummer, released two albums which have, at best, been received with muted praise (
Up was well-regarded but sold very badly,
Reveal is.. you know.
Reveal), and their position in the musical pecking order is far from secure. As with the 1991 sessions, there’s a tendency to focus on their most recent release (again, that makes perfect sense), and
Reveal is responsible for delivering six of the fifteen tracks here. However this feels defensive in a way that the
Out Of Time tracks didn’t in 1991, especially since four of the six songs are sequenced next to each other, as if trying to convince the listener that they’re worth taking the time for. This is of limited success – “Beat A Drum” and “I’ve Been High” shine, but “Disappear” and “I’ll Take The Rain” don’t, and if you’re not invested in
Reveal then having to sit through a big, unbroken block from that album feels like a slog. The band, too, are strikingly more professional here than in 1991, but as a result of that a little of the charm has gone. This sounds like a band who
need to prove themselves rather than the 1991 incarnation which sounds like a band who
want to prove themselves. It’s a small difference, maybe, but it has a huge effect. I don’t want to be too down on the 2001 material though, because when it’s good (“Country Feedback”, “I’ve Been High”), it’s as good as the band have ever been. It’s true that the latter set of songs doesn’t have a knock-out of “Love Is All Around” quality, but it’s a steady, consistent set of songs that’s always a pleasure to listen to.
Spare a thought, too, for the other two live albums. For a band who spent a long time being resistant to the idea of putting out a live album at all, they sure changed their tune towards the end of their career, and the two other live albums (the surely-they-could-have-thought-of-something-to-call-it
R.E.M. Live, and
Live At The Olympia) offer a fair document of the band playing live. Of those two sets,
Live At The Olympia is by far the best –
R.E.M. Live feels rather flat and predictable, but
Live At The Olympia finds the band in fine form, warming up for
Accelerate and delivering a hugely varied dive into their career that finds quirky choices (“Romance”, anyone?) rubbing shoulders with old classics (“So Central Rain”), and old standards (“Carnival Of Sorts (Boxcars)”, “Wolves, Lower”) facing off against then-still-to-be-released tracks (anything from
Accelerate). There’s even time for a couple of tracks never released anywhere else (“Staring Down The Barrel Of The Middle Distance” – OK – and “On The Fly” – a bit better. There’s a real sense that the band actually love playing live on
Live At The Olympia that contrasts strongly with the competent-but-workmanlike feel of R.E.M. Live. If one was to rank the live albums they’d go
At The Olympia, Unplugged, Live.
To close out on
Unplugged, though, if there’s a reason to listen (and there are many, many reasons to listen), then it’s for Michael Stipe and his outright incredible voice. I don’t think Stipe gets nearly enough credit for his voice – he’s often contrasted against Thom Yorke and found to be wanting in that comparison, but that’s incredibly unfair. For all that Yorke has a stunning voice, Stipe’s is very different in tone and delivery, and
Unplugged is the perfect venue for that to be heard. Sometimes it’s in the little moments where he obviously just takes great pleasure from singing, and sometimes it’s when he goes for the big emotional highs or the tiny, fragile breaths that add so much life and dimension to his words. If Stipe were just a lyricist he’d still be an excellent writer, but in combination with his very unusual, deeply emotional investment and things come alive in a way that comes along very rarely indeed.
Unplugged isn’t perfect, it’s true, but for the (relatively unimportant) missteps this set is worth listening to just to hear Michael sing with love, and passion, and joy. This will be my last R.E.M. album review (a conclusion to all this will follow soon), but that’s where I really want to leave it – focussing on the man at the centre. That’s not in any way to underestimate or be dismissive of the other three band-members – R.E.M. is a genuinely collaborative band in a way few really are – but here, at the end of my journey through their back catalogue, it’s Michael’s voice that pulls me back again and again to the heart of my favourite band.
And it always will.
Best Song: 1991: “Love Is All Around”, of course. 2001: Well, it’s either “I’ve Been High” or “Country Feedback”. Let’s say “I’ve Been High”, though in truth they are both magnificent achievements.
Worst Song: 1991: The odd inclusion of “Endgame’. 2001: “Disappear” – if only it would.