Singer-songwriter with The Go-Boys.

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Popical Island #2

(Popical Island)

Part of the charm of the second compilation from Dublin-based collective Popical Island is that they represent a throwback to a time when people queued up for records on the day of release, mixtapes were a welcome gift from fellow musos and Seattle, Washington, was the unlikely capital of rock music. In the wake of the synth- pop revival that has revitalized everything that was good – and bad – about the ’80s, Popical Island # 2 throws a knowing glance towards the ’90s; a time when a new alternative rock album that would define the decade seemed to come along at least once a year.

Diversity and range, within the pop form, is key to Popical Island’s latest release. While all the artists seem to share common ground, their leanings become more evident after repeated listens. Michael Knight’s quirky piano song, ‘Hang On, I Need To Count the Stops’ is clearly from the Ben Folds songbook, the chiming 12 strings that adorn Goodly Thousands’ ‘Kiss Me Upside Down’ recall I.R.S. era R.E.M., while ‘Candle’ by Squarehead should keep fans of The Shins happy. Three-minute pop nuggets aside, there are also left turns, such as Tieranniesaur’s ‘Here Be Monsters’, which is possibly the only track that isn’t defined by fuzzy guitars but by a tight, stomping drums and bass with sparse keys and vocals. In contrast again, Grand Pocket Orchestra and Johnny Fun & The Hesitations’ contributions owe their sound and feel to the many records that defined the Montreal music scene of recent years.

While many of the contributions here aren’t breaking any new ground, have little to say and, at times, are a too indebted their influences, there’s plenty here to enjoy and the mere nostalgia trip, alone, is worth the price of admission.

Originally published by State.ie

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Arctic Monkeys – Suck It and See It

(Domino)

Having recovered from the lukewarm critical reception and the public indifference that greeted 2009’s Humbug, Arctic Monkeys have returned with an album that is, more than anything, an attempt to put them back in the public’s consciousness: an album full of big choruses, major keys and conventional pop formulae. Where Humbug was full of ideas but thin on tunes, this latest effort is quite the opposite. The fusion of its predecessor’s abstract lyrics and stoner-rock with the retro stylings of Alex Turner’s The Last Shadow Puppets forms the makeup of Suck It And See.

Disappointing at times, here, is that a band that had such a strong identity – a group that had been parodied and imitated when they first arrived with 2006’s instant classic Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not – are revealing their influences far too easily. At times, the group is imitating other artists with what are, essentially, pastiches. The melody of opener ‘She’s Thunderstorms’ bears more of a resemblance to Richard Hawley, while the predictable and well-trodden G-D-C progression of ‘Black Treacle’ recalls the Byrds-esque pop of Teenage Fanclub. Add to this track three, ‘Brick By Brick’, an unremarkable throwaway homage to The Vines, and you sense that this is already a false start. The chorus of ‘The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala’ offers a shot in the arm and will, no doubt, be a staple of future live sets.

There is, however, flatness in the middle of the record. At times, you can’t help but feel that they’ve lost the bite, spike and edge that not only defined the best moments of Favourite Worst Nightmare but which made them so attractive in the first place. ‘Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve moved Your Chair’, ‘Library Pictures’ and ‘All My Own Stunts’ are a trio of flat, distortion-led tracks that find the band reverting to their already exhausted Queens of the Stone Age influence. Turner’s litany of intended witticisms on ‘Don’t Sit Down…’ (“Run with scissors through a chip pan fire fight”) never really connect. They aren’t funny and fall wide of the mark, much like the “Give me an eeny meeny miny moe/or an ipp dipp dogshit rock n’roll” lines of ‘Library Pictures’. On ‘Love is A Laser Quest’, Turner’s voice isn’t strong enough to carry a song with such a slow tempo.

It’s a given that Turner could no longer go on singing about fights at taxi ranks or Saturday nights out in modern Britain, but somewhere during his transition in his writing style, he seems to have lost the unique talents he once had for rhyme, sharp concrete images, wit and outward-looking lyrics. While the opening words of ‘Piledriver Waltz’ seem impressive (“I etched the face of a stopwatch on the back of a raindrop”), the pseudo-poetic, pseudo-psychedelic wordplay too readily recalls John Lennon’s opening lyrics to ‘Across the Universe’ and the song itself feels like a collage of classic ballads.

The highlights on Suck It and See are those songs lead by guitarist Jamie Cook, who seems more inspired than Turner when he’s playing the higher strings. Fired up, no doubt, by the great, Northern English guitar players, he shines with the Johnny Marr-type chime that ends and defines the Pixies-influenced ‘Reckless Serenade’, which is among the most memorable songs here. Also particularly memorable and infectious are the guitar parts that drive album closer ‘That’s Where You’re Wrong’. It would be easy to dismiss the song as sounding like Echo & The Bunnymen covering LCD Soundsystem’s ‘All My Friends’ – which it does – but it works so incredibly well and ends the album on such an intriguing note that it’s hard not to admire what they can do with just two chords.

In all, there are some very well-crafted pop songs here that may win back those fans who no longer felt involved after their era-defining debut album. It’s certainly their best since Favourite Worst Nightmare, and a step in the right direction but quality control lets them down too often. Where they go next is anyone’s guess, but if Turner, lyrically, gains the inspiration and focus that Cook has here and if the band, collectively, regain their edge, there’s no doubt that album number five could be their best yet.

Originally published by State.ie

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During the encore of Suede’s opening night at The Olympia, Coming Up’s ‘Trash’ and ‘Beautiful Ones’ elicited a reaction from the crowd that is normally only reserved for the iconic singles taken from their mercurial debut. IfSuede was the sound of the band getting the ball rolling on Britpop and Dog Man Star was their attempt to disassociate themselves from that particular mid-’90s movement, then 1996’sComing Up was the sound of Suede wanting a piece of the action.

Often dismissed as Suede’s ‘pop’ album, it found Suede focusing on their knack for writing glam-influenced pop songs with outward-looking lyrics that commented on high and low society. A 10-track, 40-minute album of pop songs, its fusion of Hunky Dory– era Bowie and The Slider-era T. Rex spawned five top 10 singles and remains their biggest seller. With that in mind, it’s clear that Coming Up is, for the band, more fun to play. It lacks the long, maudlin tracks such as ‘She’s Not Dead’ and ‘Daddy’s Speeding’, from their first and second albums respectively, that slow down the flow and momentum of a gig. The crowd, too, feel more involved in the proceedings; there is more fist-in-the-air jubilation than the chin-stroking introspection of both the Suede and Dog Man Star gigs.

Apparently, keyboard player Neil Codling and guitarist Richard Oakes, both of whom made their recording debuts with Suede on Coming Up, seem more involved in the proceedings and more connected to their material than that of the first two records. They have a personal connection to these songs that isn’t there when they are playing songs from the earlier albums. The slower songs – ‘By the Sea’, ‘Picnic by the Motorway’, ‘The Chemistry Between Us’ – somehow manage not to kill the momentum generated by the opening half. In fact, ‘Saturday Night’, the slow tempo closer, finds Anderson venturing into the crowd for one last hurrah.

A superb encore ensures that this is the most energised, adrenaline-fuelled night of the three. Consisting of the slow, cold, Bowie/Eno- influenced ‘Europe Is Our Playground’ (B-side to ‘Trash’), the band quickly snap out of the moody atmospherics of that song and rip swiftly into a string of up-tempo glam-rockers. ‘New Generation’, ‘Can’t Get Enough’ (taken from 1999’sHead Music), ‘So Young’, ‘Metal Mickey’ and ‘So Young’ all hit the right notes. By the end Anderson has reminded the audience of his brilliance as a frontman; his hips are shaking and swaying, his voice singing in a clear, confident falsetto and with urgency like never before. For band and audience alike, it feels like the end of a long journey. As the crowd pour out onto Dame Street, the main talking point is of fevered rumours of a new album and tour, next year. If true, Suede have raised the bar up a notch that they will be hard-pressed to surpass.

Originally published by State.ie

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Those unfamiliar with Bill Callahan’s extensive songbook may think he’s enslaved to the influence of Leonard Cohen: a sobering solo performer, wearing a white suit, playing a nylon-stringed guitar and singing in a deep, rich baritone. However, his fusion of minor key folk and country and his lyrics, which lean on everything from Zen Buddhist teachings to metaphysical imagery, are all shot through with his uniquely wry and gentle humor.

Opening with ‘The Wind And The Dove’, the intense silence is palpable. Flanked by Neal Morgan on drums and Matt Kinsey on guitar, the arrangements are subtle and unobtrusive and Kinsey’s playing captures the character of the rich arrangements of the original studio version of the song. Following with ‘Riding For The Feeling’ and ‘Baby’s Breath’, the tempo of the songs feel too similar, though ‘Drover’, an album highlight from this year’s Apocalypse, shifts the tempo up a gear and allows the three musicians to loosen up and improvise, giving the song a Scott Walker-esque scope. This is swiftly followed by ‘America’, an ironic, State Of The Nation address, full of Callahan’s tongue-in-cheek humor and possibly one of the few of his songs with a danceable beat. Kinsey lets loose on the guitar and Morgan plays his drum kit as if it were a set of bongos, with Callahan gently whispering “America” repeatedly. A highlight of the night and no doubt a staple of future set lists.

Songs from Callahan’s previous incarnation, Smog, are played to the delight of many. Highlights from Smog’s 2005 masterpiece, A River Ain’t Too Much To Love, go down a treat, particularly ‘Say Valley Maker’ – the haunting backing vocals even eliciting harmonies from the audience. Most surprising, however, is how comfortable Callahan is on stage. The quiet, introverted performer of old, who would never acknowledge his audience, is but a memory. Tonight, Callahan offers sincere thanks after each round of applause and initiates banter with members of the audience. And while Callahan’s latest offering may not cross over beyond his cult of devoted fans, he’s developing as a songwriter and as a performer at a more rapid pace than many of his contemporaries.

Originally published on State.ie

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Villagers have returned home to Dublin after a high profile support slot with Elbow on their latest tour that wraps up tonight, the only Irish date of the tour. A devoted few get in early to catch Villagers. However, in a venue the size of the O2, their set – drawn mostly from slow-burning debut Becoming A Jackal – doesn’t quite connect and one can’t help but feel that this band and these songs belong in a more intimate venue. For a support band, they lack the hooks, choruses and charisma to make an impression on those undecided/apathetic punters who might be here, purely, to see Elbow. The title track elicits the loudest cheer of Villagers’ set, but this wasn’t Villagers’ finest hour.

Walking on stage to a lavish red curtain back-drop, Elbow’s sound of big drums, chunky bass lines, strings and Guy Garvey’s tenor voice, effortlessly fill every corner of the venue. Elbow hit a groove in a set that begins promisingly by opening with ‘The Birds’, ‘The Bones of You’ and ‘Lippy Kids’. As a live band, Elbow has grown leaps and bounds since their May 2001 gig in Temple Bar Music Centre in support of Mercury Prize nominated debut Asleep In The Back. Garvey makes for an unlikely stadium-rock front man. The runway stage into the audience, along with his witty banter in between songs, is a successful attempt at bringing the audience in closer, making the experience more intimate in contrast to the band’s sound. At one point, the remaining band members join Garvey on the runway stage for an acoustic intro to ‘Weather to Fly’ and shortly leave to finish the song with full, electric arrangements. In a way, it’s the most telling song of the night; a song Garvey wrote about the band, its performance here tonight is a visual representation of the how the band have mutated from British music’s best kept secret to where they are now.

The set list, however, finds Elbow on cruise control. They don’t delve too far back into their back catalogue. Instead, they play it safe with a 17 song set that is drawn mainly from Build A Rocket Boys! and The Seldom Seen Kid, with just three tracks from 2005’s Leaders Of The Free World. Their first two efforts – 2001’s Asleep In The Back and 2003’s Cast Of Thousands – weren’t written for the arenas that their most recent records were and therein lies the element of risk: can these early songs work in an arena? It’s a relief, then, when ‘Grounds for Divorce’ arrives during the set; it changes a mood and tempo that has become quite even paced and quite sedate when Elbow should be firing on all cylinders.

Finishing, quite predictably, on ‘One Day Like This’, arms are in the air, and Elbow is home dry. Given that this is their first tour of the arenas, they already seem like old hands in what is a well-co-ordinated show. Here’s hoping that when they hit the festivals in the summer that they’re able to shift gears more convincingly and give a wider representation of their enviable discography.

Originally published by State.ie

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Glen Hansard is looking back. During this month alone, the 40-year old creative force behind The Frames and Swell Season has revisited two critical periods of his remarkable career: the 20th Anniversary of The Commitments and ten years since the release of The Frames’ masterpiece, For the Birds. Given the dedication and loyalty of the band’s fan base, it’s safe to assume that many here tonight were at the Olympia a decade ago, when the band played the Dame Street venue on the day of the album’s release. Although the audience has brought their memories from the intervening ten years to Vicar St, further context is given in the form of an impassioned- if overzealous- preamble by a friend of the band as he discusses how the record traveled from Ventry to Chicago to Dublin and beyond. When he opines how much the album means to him, everyone immediately gets him.

As the opening arpeggiated chord and lilting piano lines of majestic album opener ‘In the Deep Shade’ break the silence, we are, as with every listen, placed under its spell. While songs, like live staple ‘Lay Me Down’, are performed faithfully and proficiently, some songs, in particular ‘Headlong’ and ‘What Happens When the Heart Just Stops’ allow the band to spin off course, engage at the moment, and find their way back into the song’s signature hook. Apparently energized by having guitarist/producer Dave Odlum back in the fold for the night’s performance, Hansard & Co. deliver a great ‘Santa Maria’ and finish with an equally defiant and hypnotic ‘Mighty Sword’. It’s the most convincing and definitive live performance of these songs and, by proxy, an ultimate Frames performance.

Following the closing notes of ‘Mighty Sword’, the band exit and Hansard invites novelist Roddy Doyle to read ‘Blood,’ a short story taken from his forthcoming collection Bullfighting. Doyle’s hilarious, modern day gothic story offers humor and respite for an audience still in awe from the opening half of the evening. Predictably, the band saunter back on stage and deliver a set comprising of Fitzcarraldo / Dance the Devil… era material. As with many of The Frames’ Dublin gigs, it’s after this that the night takes a ‘Last Waltz’ kind of turn. Hansard invites Damien Rice on stage and in a bewildering performance, Rice performs a new song, not dissimilar in tempo to ‘The Blower’s Daughter’. Fellow Commitment star Bronagh Gallagher then plays Aretha Franklin’s ‘Do Right Woman, Do Right Man’. Following this, support act Interference are invited back for a rendition of ‘Gold’. Penned by front man Fergus O’Farrell and featured in Jon Carney’s Once, it reminds one of O’Farrell’s considerable talents as a vocalist.

In a bizarre turn of events, a barefooted Liam O’Maonlai takes to the stage and dilutes the second half of the show. Looking like Gene Franklin – Will Ferrell’s ‘More Cowbell’ character – on his way home from a party at Charlie Sheen’s gaff, O’Maonlai is clearly unaware that everyone at Vicar St is here to celebrate ten years of For the Birds. His pseudo-spiritual, Irish language weird-folk song is embarrassing, boring and takes away from the night. What swiftly follows is a cringe worthy, 20-minute jam. O’Maonlai is determined to take over proceedings and heckles of “piss off, O’Maonlai” don’t, unfortunately, deter him. It’s not until he rounds off his evening with a cover of Dylan’s ‘Forever Young’, that O’Maonlai mercifully exits the stage and allows Hansard to reclaim control.

Introducing “one last special guest”, Hansard, flanked by the remaining members of Mic Christopher’s The Mary Janes, performs a triumphant rendition of Christopher’s classic, ‘Heyday’, which now feels like an attempt to rescue the show. One can’t help but feel that the night should have ended after the band’s ‘best of’ encore. Hansard’s generosity towards other performers is gracious. However, when over-bearing performers mar the proceedings by attempting to steal the show, something is lost. That the night lasted three hours is of little consolation; had it ended sooner, it would have been the stuff of undisputed legend – now it’s a night remembered only for how it went from the sublime to the ridiculous.

Originally published on State.ie

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As Irish rugby fans spill out from the pubs and onto the streets after Ireland’s victory over England in Aviva Stadium, a fortunate few make their way down to The O2 amid chants of “Olé! Olé! Olé! Olé!” to catch the cast of The Commitments, live in concert. Celebrating 20 years since Alan Parker’s iconic adaptation of Roddy Doyle’s equally iconic novel, the timing couldn’t be better; a country riddled (again) by an economic recession and a soul and R&B revival in full swing.

As soon as Robert Arkins finishes his rendition of ‘Treat Her Right’, he implores the audience to “Put yer working class hands together for the hardest working band in the world…”. The show well and truly begins when Andrew Strong follows up the excellent introduction with the late, great Wilson Pickett’s ‘In the Midnight Hour’ and Otis Redding’s ‘Mr. Pitiful’, both of which are among the most recognisable songs from the original soundtrack.

Angeline Ball and Brona Gallagher take centre stage for ‘Chain of Fools’ and ‘Do Right Woman, Do Right Man’, respectively. Given that Andrew Strong and Glen Hansard are the only full-time professional singers on stage, it’s a tough ask for two actors to scale the heights of songs originally performed by Aretha Franklin though they succeed admirably. Persuaded by the original cast of the Alan Parker movie to sing a tune, Glen Hansard obliges with a cover of “a Dublin soul song”, namely Phil Lynott’s ‘Old Town’. Complete with finger clicks from the audience, it’s a stunning rendition of a song we all know and it convincingly localises The Commitments more than any other song on the set list.

Played late in the set, the highlights of the night were always going to be ‘Mustang Sally’ and ‘Try a Little Tenderness’, the former containing an audacious guitar solo from Andrew Strong (who knew that he also played the guitar?) on Hansard’s guitar and the latter which lifts the roof off the O2. In theory, the night should end here; there’s nowhere left to go after such a peak. Unfortunate, then, that an encore of Little Milton’s classic ‘Grits Ain’t Groceries’ and Spencer Davis’ ‘Gimme Some Lovin’’ falls flat and seems almost unremarkable following on from the set’s peak, although such a lacklustre encore isn’t enough to mar the evening.

A mixed crowd – made up largely of those who saw the film on original release, 20 years ago, and a younger generation who are fans of Amy Winehouse and Plan B – filter out from the O2 after 2 hours of swinging and swaying. The night ends, as it began, with chants of “Olé! Olé! Olé! Olé!”. For one night only, Dublin got her soul back.

Originally published on State.ie

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The Strokes – Angles

(Rough Trade)

Ten years on from Is This It and indie kids the world over are still sporting skinny ties, blazers, drainpipe jeans and beat-up Converse. Aside from influencing the stock of High Street fashion retailers, the garage rock of Is This It produced a wave of new bands, with even established acts like R.E.M. and U2 crediting The Strokes for the back-to-basics approach they both took on subsequent releases. Odd then, that the band that heralded the garage rock revival of the 2000s and epitomized CBGB’s rock should have lost their way as much as they did. Faced with the unenviable task of following up Is This It, Room On Fire was full of familiar tunes by a band in cruise control, while First Impressions Of Earth was too long, overblown and lacking in character. Subsequent solo projects by all of the band members made little or no impression on the indie rock fraternity. All of which The Strokes are keenly aware.

There’s a confessional feel to Angles – on the album opener ‘Machu Picchu’ Casablancas sings “I’m just trying to find a mountain I can climb” – and The Strokes 2011 aren’t without humor. The album’s flagship single, ‘Under the Cover of Darkness’, is a tongue-in-cheek number and smacks of something of an in-joke for the band. The classic sound is lifted right out of Is This It – Casablancas vocal melody of the line “I won’t just be a puppet on a string” is an exact copy of “Well I’ve been in town for just about fifteen minutes now” from 2001 single ‘Last Nite’. In a mirror of that lyric, he lambasts Strokes wannabes and in turn the band’s slow development: “I’ve been out around this town/everybody’s been singing the same song for ten years”. As if to drive the point home the song even finishes in the same abrupt manner in whichIs This It’s ‘Take it or Leave it’ and ‘Hard to Explain’. A pastiche of Is This It, it may be, but it is also an opportunity that The Strokes take to confront their “definitive” sound to move on.

The main key to The Strokes’ development is how they’ve changed the way they operate in a band. Angles is reliable record – 10 tracks clocking in at just under 35 minutes. For the most part, the band produced the record themselves, and it’s also the first album with songwriting contributions from all five members. And within this tight and full frame, they blend their strain of garage rock with synth pop:  ‘You’re So Right,’ ‘Taken for a Fool’ and ‘Gratisfaction’ all recall Room on Fire’s more intriguing moments.

Meanwhile, the eighties 80s synthpop of ‘Games’ wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Casablancas’ 2009 solo debut, Phrazes for the Young.  ‘Games’ is the most radical departure from The Strokes’ roots will undoubtedly divide fans between those who love it and those who hate it; those who accept it as a Strokes song and those who don’t.

It could be this experimentation with synthesized rhythms that has challenged the band to write songs in a way unexpected by The Strokes and it is impressive how quickly they translated much of the infectious hooks that make up their signature guitar songs to synths. ‘Two Kinds of Happiness’ and ‘Machu Picchu’ are both particularly successful in blending synthpop influenced verses with simple, garage rock choruses. These songs are, by proxy, the very heart, and soul of Angles but by far the most enigmatic track here is album closer ‘Life is Simple in the Moonlight’, which points to where The Strokes might go next. Cut from the initial, fraught sessions with producer Joe Chiccarelli (U2, The White Stripes, The Shins), guitarist Nick Valensi trades the Thin Lizzy / Gun N’ Roses licks of ‘Gratisfaction’ and ‘Metabolism’ for a relaxed and fluid style of playing akin to Badfinger and Steely Dan.

As the album closes, Casablancas screams “Don’t try to stop us…get out of our way”. With a comeback of this magnitude and a bold step in the right direction after two missteps, who could stop The Strokes?

Originally published by State.ie

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J Mascis – Several Shades of Why

(Sub Pop)

On the far side of J Mascis’ fuzzy guitar sounds, which defined not only Dinosaur Jr.’s music but, in turn, marked him out as an alt. Rock legend lies a softer, breezier side. On Several Shades of Why, his debut solo album proper, he engages with his folk-rock influences like never before, which range from After the Gold Rush-era Neil Young and Crosby, Stills and Nash, to Nick Drake. No doubt aware of the deluge of folk / Americana albums in recent years, he has crafted this album with instruments and arrangements that are alien to Dinosaur Jr.’s records and might be more suitable on a Mercury Rev album (Saw, anyone?). Mascis has apparently taken a leaf out of country music-inspired those American alt. rock songwriters.

Opener ‘Listen to Me’, with its simple progression and whispering vocals, feels like an Evan Dando track, while ‘Is it Done’ could easily have been written and recorded by Lucinda Williams. The intricate finger picking and harrowing strings of the albums title track find Mascis at most earnest, and he echoes the feel of the song in ‘Very Nervous and Love’. Album highlight, ‘Not Enough’, a campfire folk-pop song complete with backing vocals from current tour mate Kurt Vile, is the sound of the summer.

The record takes a strange twist towards the end and the penultimate and closing tracks, ‘Can I’ and ‘What Happened’, respectively, find Mascis keeping the line of the record while layering the songs with distorted guitars and taking the album to a dark place. And while the album’s roots influences and pop sensibility may not be for Dinosaur Jr. purists, those with a library-full of the best folk / Americana records of the last ten years have another addition that ever-expanding genre.

Originally published on State.ie

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R.E.M. – Collapse Into Now

(Warner)

“If a storm doesn’t kill me, the government will”, sang Michael Stipe on ‘Houston’, from 2008’s excellent return to form, Accelerate. A weary and worn out liberal after two terms of the Bush administration, Stipe hadn’t been as angry, disillusioned and politically engaged on Accelerate since 1987’s Document and 1988’s Green, both of which tore into the Reagan administration.

Fitting, then, that Stipe should now sing “A storm didn’t kill me, the government changed” on ‘Oh My Heart’, taken from R.E.M.’s second consecutive record with Jacknife Lee. Stipe, here, defines himself and R.E.M. as rock’s survivors, but also its chroniclers of social and political change in America. They are, clearly, more at peace with America and, more importantly, with themselves than ever before. Whereas Accelerate saw them return to the spiky, three-minute punk-influenced pop songs that so defined Murmur and Reckoning, Collapse Into Now finds the band tapping into their tradition yet somehow making it feel fresh, vital and new.

The hallmarks are all here; the bridge and chorus from ‘Discoverer’ could easily be ideas that didn’t make the cut on Document, yet Buck’s Eastern-influenced guitar phrase, which bookends the record, is memorable and unlike anything he’s played before. ‘All the Best’ feels like a distant relative of ‘The Wake Up Bomb’ from New Adventures in Hi- Fi while ‘Überlin’ is a serious re-write of ‘Daysleeper’ from 1998’s Up. ‘Everyday is Yours to Win’ finds Stipe in Urban / 21st Century / Existential mode, as per recent records, all of which folds as strong a first side of a record as the band have produced in their 31 years of recording.

The second side opens with ‘Mine Smell Like Honey’, the most joyous, pop-sounding R.E.M. song imaginable. It’s given a very balanced and nuanced mix by Jacknife Lee, making it sound familiar yet wholly new and exciting. The chorus readily recalls ‘Bad Day’ and ‘It’s the End…’ and is more R.E.M. than R.E.M. itself. By contrast, ‘Walk it Back’ is a slow-tempo, piano-led tune, leading the listener to imagine what 2004’s career nadir, Around the Sun, might have sounded like had the band had the heart and energy to finish and mix it with care.

It’s then back to the stomping mode with ‘Alligator_Aviator_Autopilot_Antimatter’ with backing vocals courtesy of Patti Smith and Peter Buck. It’s the combination of Stipe’s playful lyrics, urgent delivery and Buck’s riff-heavy yet jangly guitar that makes this, and the R.E.M. sound, what it is. Meanwhile ‘Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brando and I’ finds Stipe engaging with Pop Culture as vividly as he did on 1994’s Monster, but with the slow burning, roots feel that so definedAutomatic for the People. ‘Blue’, meanwhile, sees the band ending the record in a natural form. In an ocean of reverb, distortion and acoustic guitar, Stipe’s rhapsodic delivery, coupled with his post-modern, epistolic lyrics, eases through a distorted mic and, backed by his heroine, Patti Smith, finds him signing off with ‘20th Century, collapse into now’.

What makes Collapse Into Now such a triumph is its authors’ engagement with their sound, their mythology and their knack for being able to make it feel like a record by an up and coming band. The form of the album is one of a band that have realised that there are many dimensions to their sound and songs. Thankfully, for the first time in a long time, R.E.M. are happy to be themselves.

Originally published on State.ie