R.E.M | MONSTER
For many 1992’s exquisite Automatic For The People remains the band’s high watermark in a long-spanning career. It’s mournful dirging was mature and stoic while remaining accessible to mass audiences. Initially it was supposed to be a straight forward rock album to follow-up the mandolin-ridden hit “Losing My Religion,” but the band found themselves too self-reflective after their success to break out the fuzz boxes. Eventually, Monster would become the rawk n rowl statement the band was finally ready to unleash.
In 1994 the band was bathing in massive critical and commercial success, which was creating a celebrity Monster out of the band itself, and especially lead singer Michael Stipe. The band bluntly aimed to demolish the mandolins and cellos of their past with loud amplifiers and distortion. All the meditation and self-healing was over.
Out of the gate lead single “What’s The Frequency, Kenneth” declared its answer to all the angst and grunge smouldering in the atmosphere at the time. It was a bright and anthemic (yet nonsensical) statement for the mid 90’s Alt generation who were high on the romanticization of lithium, suicide, and flannel. When MTV debuted the video the world saw a new version of Michael Stipe, very lean, more twitchy, wiry, and shaved bald.
The song’s bizarre title refers to an incident in New York City in 1986 where an assailant attacked journalist Dan Rather while repeating the phrase, “Kenneth, What’s The Frequency!?” He was paranoid that TV stations were beaming unwanted signals into his brain. Stipe’s lyrical interest in this is pure 90’s poetry in itself.
“Crush With Eyeliner” is a sexy glam stomper with purring low register vocals and Peter Bucks guitar sound begging for attention. At this point it’s clear the guitar will take centre stage on dressing the album with its most definitive characteristic. Monster is steeped in a mid range-focused distortion that sputters all over the album, at times even overemphasized through noticeably choppy tremolo effects. This abrasive boxy tone climaxes on “I Took Your Name” where Stipe’s vocals are mixed so low in comparison, it’s easy to picture him standing far off from Buck’s Vox Amp just to give his ears a rest.
“Star 69” brings punk-rock fun up to a pop boil letting the band loose on the album’s most breezy track. The lyrics are built on the touchtone tech of being able to pinpoint callers who hang up, a buzz-worthy tool at the time. This is counterbalanced by the reliable balladry of “Strange Currencies” which trades the rock and roll snarling for a morning-after comedown pill to deal with the still lingering hangover of “Everybody Hurts.” The song’s chorus is as pretty and beautiful as anything the band has ever done and allows for some deeper water, though just barely.
“Bang And Blame” and “I Don’t Sleep I Dream” fall into classic R.E.M territory, not life-changing but pleasantly at home to round out the album’s high points. And then there are the oddities which create the album’s debatably tragic inconsistency. On “Tongue” Stipe croons yearn fully forced in 70’s soul falsetto, which can by now feel out of place in the context of the album’s incessant overdrive.
“King Of Comedy” and “Circus Envy” are downright puzzling in production, writing, and mix decisions but somehow still add to the album’s unperfected charm.
Stipe has often stated one of his most personally-affecting songs is “Let Me In”, a heady letter to Kurt Cobain. The song is doused in a scratchy and astringent burst of fuzz, making it difficult to really enjoy what Stipe is trying to express. If you can get past the abrasive production though, there is a sweet reward underneath.
The memorable cover art of Monster fittingly features a blurred image of a bear’s head against a giant orange background. It is impossible to separate the album’s sound with the bright tangerine glow of the artwork. It captures the big dumb rock guitar sound contained within perfectly. Thus the artwork is a stand-in for the elemental nature of the album itself- simple, far from perfect, a bit blurry, but still likeable. Exactly what the band wanted to achieve at the time after all the heavy lifting that came before it.
Many critics and fans called Monster a misstep yet it proudly debuted at number one on both sides of The Atlanti becoming one of the most ubiquitous finds in used CD bin history. R.E.M’s follow-up New Adventures In Hi-Fi (a cross between old and new styles) would become one of their last great works before the future would bring inner conflict, health problems, and trouble with management. Eventually the band would cool off the from the luminous orange flames of a once great beast.
It’s all about the simple orange flavours in this Monster martini. It’s amped up just like the guitar in three ways using orange vodka, triple sec, and orange juice. A splash of amaretto gives the drink a bit of spice. The overall effect is familiar and uncomplicated, much like the album. The blueberry and cherry garnish splash the red and blue elements from the front cover.
