Lazy Saturday, leaning together, headpiece filled with straw.

(Editor’s note: I’m feeling strangely nostalgic this Lazy Saturday, more prone to looking back than forward.  We’ve been hitting you with bands that you ought to pay attention to over the last few weeks in this forum (Young Buffalo, Heliotropes, AIDS Wolf and so on), but this week I just want to revel in the music of my youth.  Self-serving?  Probably.  As I’ve said before, however, if it’s not your bag, get your own damn blog.  In other news, that dude up top is wearing the silliest hat I have ever seen in my life.  You buy a hat like that, I bet you get a free bowl of soup.)

I’ll go to the mat on this particular argument: the eight-year, five album span from R.E.M. that begins with 1988’s Green and concludes with 1996’s Automatic for the People is one of the most spectacular stretches of recorded material ever.  Take a mental tour of the songs that weren’t singles in that stretch: “World Leader Pretend,” probably my favorite rock song that’s overtly pretentious and inflated, “Sweetness Follows,” which they goddamn well better play at my funeral, “Low,” with its slinky, nefarious groove, the frenetic madness of “Leave” and so on.  After you do that, think about the singles.  Sweet merciful crap.  It’s a murder’s row of songs that are in the canon, songs that require zero explanation or justification:  “Stand,” “Pop Song 89,” “Losing My Religion, ” “Near Wild Heaven” (Maybe that one does require some discussion.  Take that song out of context, away from the Earth-shattering hugeness of “Losing My Religion” and it’s absolutely stunning.  It’s the music version of George Clooney and Anthony Edwards on E.R.  (I talked to Mrs. Citizen for this one.)  Clooney was so physically attractive that you could forget how sneaky hot Goose was.  Same thing happened to Edwards in Top Gun.  Dude couldn’t catch a break.  Leaving the homo-erotic sidebar, it’s impossible to ignore how good “Near Wild Heaven” is when you listen to it on its own.  Try it.), “Drive,” “Nightswimming,” E-Bow the Letter” (Patti Smith!), “How the West was Won and Where it Got Us” and so on.   (That list even leaves out some of the more commercial hits, like “Stand” and “Man on the Moon” and “Everybody Hurts,” so…)   Even the comparatively shitty record they put out in that period (Monster) has some deeply listenable songs on it (”Strange Currencies” and “Bang and Blame,” at the very least, hold up.  I’ll shit on that Courtney Love song as much as anybody, but it’s not like the whole record is an abomination.  Just saying.)  All told, I’ll take the Pepsi challenge against any other five-album stretch from a major recording artist.  Think on it for a second, taking in traditionally lauded “modern-rock” artists.  For the sake of argument here, let’s cap the discussion with records released between 1978 (no need to bring The Beatles and shit into the conversation) and 2005 (not really enough time on the turntable to say if Yellow House and Veckatimest are Off the Wall and Thriller, right?)  Radiohead?  Maybe as good a five record stretch (The Bends – Hail to the Thief), but Amnesiac, as much as I love it, is admittedly kind of a b-side thing and Hail to the Thief is probably the Monster of the bunch, but with maybe a couple more songs that hold up.  U2?  Could have worked if The Unforgettable Fire wasn’t the worst record ever made.  (”Pride (In the Name of Love),” while maybe admirable for its paean to a hero, is absolutely reprehensible as a song.  They’re from Ireland!  Seriously!)  The Smiths?  Only put out four records.  Bruce Springsteen?  If Bruce is the Boss, then I fucking quit.  Chew on it for a minute and then try and dispute the claim that, for people my age, R.E.M. had the greatest string of five records that we might ever see.  (Five isn’t anarbitrary number, by the way.  The Clash only put out five records (although it was a shit ton of songs) and I’ll take their catalog over anybody’s.  They’re out of this particular conversation, however, cause they might as well be The Beatles.  We’ll hash that out another day.)

Why this diatribe on R.E.M.?  When I got home from work today (after a couple of brews at the Lincoln Park Pub), I had an advance copy of the upcoming live R.E.M. record in my electronic mail.  I feel like Jim Brown.  It’s not getting any better for me as a blogger and, as such, I am considering retirement.  I’ve listened to all 39 tracks from Live at Olympia (out October 27) and it is an absolute delight.  Earlier R.E.M. live records were, arguably, masturbatory and disposable, but this one is the truth.  “Driver 8″ and “New Test Leper” alone will be worth whatever they charge for this thing.  We’ll have a full review as the release date approaches, but you just need to know this: it is good.  (Also, as an added bonus, Diamond Jim openly and actively dislikes R.E.M., so it’s nice to throw a couple hundred words in his grill.)

The two albums that resonate the most with me from the period are Automatic for the People and New Adventures in Hi-Fi. The latter came out during my first semester at Bowling Green and I listened to it more times than could be counted.  The former is one of the greatest albums ever.  Hands down.  I didn’t want Warner Bothers to sue me, so I’m not posting any tracks from either record, but Stereogum put together a killer covers compilation a few years back for Automatic for the People’s 15th anniversary and we’ve got a couple of cuts from two Citizen Dick favorites from that.  (The whole thing is available here.)  Also, just for shits and tickles, is the epochal video for “Drive.”

Dr. Dog – Find the River – R.E.M. Cover

Blitzen Trapper – Star Me Kitten – R.E.M. Cover

I know that we’ve already posted a slew of Mission of Burma tracks.  I don’t care.  You’re getting one more, mainly because Mission of Burma will be playing TONIGHT on the campus of Case Western Reserve University for free. I’ll be the dude freaking out when they launch into this one.  Say hi if you feel like it.

Mission of Burma – The Ballad of Johnny Burma – Live, 2008