31 years ain't bad going is it? Thank you R.E.M.

Well the internet has been a-buzz following R.E.M.'s announcement this past Wednesday that they are retiring the band. I'm just going to be another voice in a sea of thank yous and praise, I know, but I had to say something on the matter.

I'm relatively philosophical on the matter. Their best years are behind them and they get relatively little commercial and critical attention these days. They don't have anything more to prove and bowing out now means they can retire with dignity, before another sub-par (but not without merit) effort like "Around The Sun" creeps out.
As per usual lead singer Michael Stipe put it best. "A wise man once said 'the skill in attending a party is knowing when it's time to leave.' We built something extraordinary together. We did this thing. And now we're going to walk away from it"

For me they're the best American act of the past thirty years, and the fathers (dare I say grandfathers?) of modern US alternative rock full stop. Many acts are indebted to them not just musically but personally - Radiohead's Thom Yorke was the recipient of some sage advice from Stipe about dealing with the limelight, while other like Pearl Jam (Eddie Vedder was himself one of those college kids in 80s America that would sit and obsessively listen to R.E.M.'s records to figure out what Stipe was saying in the songs) followed their lead with regard to humanitarianism and political activism.

I only really seriously got into the band at the start of 2008. I heard they were due to make a comeback album, so I got myself two of their best of's: "In Time", a compilation of stuff from the Warner years, and "And I Feel Fine...", which collected tracks from their earlier work when signed to IRS. These are both excellent starting points for newcomers, although with the band having come to the end of their record deal with Warner, they're now compiling a new career retrospective (which will hopefully span both the IRS and Warner eras, otherwise it will be pointless).
The band have been a constant part of my life ever since. I now own all 15 of their studio albums plus IRS-era rarities anthology "Dead Letter Office".  I think the reason I hadn't got into the band a lot sooner was that I thought their biggest songs - "Everybody Hurts", "Losing My Religion", "The Great Beyond" etc - had become a big enough part of my subconsciousness that I didn't need to download/get CDs of their music. Boy I was wrong. I'd barely even scratched the surface.

For me, if I had to pick their five most seminal albums they'd be:

"Murmur"(1983)

Their debut LP, it was named Album of the Year in Rolling Stone magazine in a year where it had the likes of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and U2's "War" to compete with. They invented the term "all killer and no filler" for albums like this. Peter Buck's Byrdsesque guitar riffs and Michael Stipe's distinct vocal style gave the band a certain mystique that made them utterly compelling. Check out "Radio Free Europe", "Shaking Through" and "Pilgrimage".

"Reckoning"(1984) 

Second album, built on the strengths of the first, so shares the same appeal. The choruses are probably bigger here though. Among it's highlights are "Pretty Persuasion", "Little America" and "So. Central Rain"

"Lifes Rich Pagaent"(1986) 

A common misconception about the band was that they lost their aura and weren't as good when you could tell what Michael Stipe was singing. That's a blatant lie, and this album proves it. Everything here is as clear as a whistle. Stipe's lyrics are out in the open for everyone to hear: whereas before the way he sang things was more important, here the words he's singing begin to take precedence (see "Cuyahoga"). Other highlights include "I Believe" and the sublime "Fall On Me"

"Automatic For The People"(1992) 

Their most resonant record for sure, full of tender moments and wistful singalongs. If you have ears you've most likely heard "Man On The Moon" and "Everybody Hurts" at some point, so instead listen closely to "Nightswimming", live favourite "Drive" and "Find The River" which is for me their best ballad and gets criminally overlooked because of "Everybody Hurts".

"New Adventures In Hi-Fi"(1996)

The last record they'd make as a truly world-class band on the top of their game. While I don't subscribe to the theory that "everything after Bill Berry quit was shit" (drummer Berry left the band in 1997), the band had a lot of adjusting to do after Bill left and it affected their output. Still, this was a great high-point for Bill to bow out on. A huge, sprawling record, incorporating many unconventional instruments. Check out and "New Test Leper", "Bittersweet Me" and "Electrolite".

But you know what? Even if you stuck to just those five albums, there's LOADS you'd still miss out on.
"Country Feedback", the entire "Chronic Town" EP (including my absolute favourite "rarity" of theirs, "Gardening At Night"), "It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)", "Maps And Legends"... the list goes on.

I'd also thoroughly recommend live album (of sorts)  "Live At The Olympia".

So if you don't really know much of the band's material, there's a lot of stuff to get your teeth into there.

Anyway, thank you for everything R.E.M. it's been a blast.

The Man In Black (Not Will Smith or Tommy-Lee Jones)

So when I went online today (12th September) I found out that it's eight years to the day that Johnny Cash died (well, as of writing, it's getting late). Which made me think "what a great excuse to mention how much I love his music."

The stand out time of his career for me was definitely his time working with Rick Rubin at American Recordings. As I'm writing this I'm listening to "Unearthed", a compilation of outtakes and unused material from his time there, which you can listen to here. All of which is pure gold, and encapsulates everything that was great about his stint at American: brilliant songs (either material Rubin requested from other writers specifically for Cash, classic country songs that endure the test of time, or re-interpretations of songs Johnny had recorded previously) made with all the best musicians and sang with gusto, maturity and passion by Cash. My favourites include versions of "If I Give My Soul", "Heart Of Gold" (with John Frusciante
on guitar) and "Redemption Song" (the latter featuring none other than Joe Strummer!).

I'm sure lots of you are aware of his infamous version of Nine Inch Nails' Hurt. That song is taken from "American IV: The Man Comes Around", and it could well be the album most people know him for. The songs he recorded for that album were perhaps the most populist and familiar to people - amongst them were versions of Dame Vera Lynn's "We'll Meet Again", Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus" and The Beatles' "In My Life". This was the first album of his I came across, and is probably one of my favourite album's ever. It wasn't long before I looked into the other albums in the series.

A bit of background: in the early 90s, Cash's career seemed on it's last legs. He left Mercury Records in 1991, after a four year stint that left him so unhappy, he took to sabotaging his own reputation with stuff like this so that his contract wouldn't be renewed. But come 1994, Rick Rubin, who at the time was most known for co-founding Def Jam records and producing for the Beastie Boys and Red Hot Chilli Peppers, was offering Cash a deal on his newly founded American Recordings label. While he was a little concerned that Rubin would have him work with his artists for the sake of giving him a new edge or air of cool, Rick actually had other ideas that actually tied in with Johnny's.

Cash had often times flirted with the idea of an album of "midnight sessions": a set of songs he'd perform by himself, his guitar his only accompaniment, that would thus give his music a very intimate feel - as if he were singing to you in your living room. It turned out Rubin had the same sort of idea for Johnny as well.
Thus came the first album of a very fruitful relationship: "American Recordings". Some might find it a bit of a slow burner, but the intimate nature of the production really comes through, giving the songs a great sense of clarity. Highlights include "Delia's Gone", "Bird On A Wire" (originally by Lenard Cohen) and this version of Loudon Wainwright's "The Man Who Couldn't Cry".

The album was a critical and commercial success, and the Rubin-Cash partnership would continue to flourish.
Next came "Unchained" in 1996, and it's one of my favourite albums in the series. The intimate environment of the first album was gone and in it's place a rambunctious Cash sang balls to the wall aggressive country classics and popular alternative songs of the time like Beck's "Rowboat" and Soundgarden's "Rusty Cage". Backed by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and also featuring members of the Chilli Peppers and Fleetwood Mac, it was probably the last time we'd see The Man In Black in full swing, before his health issues began to get the better of him. There were still gentler moments, like "Memories Are Made Of This", but hearing Cash rip through the likes of "Mean Eyed Cat", "Country Boy" (both songs he wrote in his days at Sun Records) and the incredible "I've Been Everywhere" (listen to that, then take in to account he was knocking on 64 at the time. Amazing right?) is truly remarkable.

But such vigour would soon desert Johnny. While touring "Unchained",  Cash fell ill. In 1997 he was diagnosed with Shy-Drager syndrome and in 1998 he caught pneumonia.
This would not deter him, however. The year 2000 saw the release of "American III: Solitary Man". This album was perhaps the turning point of the "American" series, where the albums were no longer Cash merely singing songs he admired and could make his own. The music took a new tone of quiet defiance in the face of death. You could see a thematic change in the songs on the records, perhaps most obvious in this instance in versions of Tom Petty's "I Won't Back Down", Nick Cave's "The Mercy Seat" and Cash's own "I'm Leaving Now".

This would really culminate in Johnny writing what I consider the best song he's ever written, the title track of "American IV", "The Man Comes Around". "American IV" would be released in 2002. Commercially it was the most successful of the series at that point, being the first album of Johnny's to go gold - that wasn't a compilation - in thirty years.

The success of the album would, however, soon be followed by tragedy. On May 15th 2003, his wife June Carter Cash, the love of his life, lost her own battle with ill health and passed away. Before she passed, she told Johnny to keep on working. Despite his continuing poor health and being wheelchair-bound, Johnny heeded the word of his wife, and continued to record with Rubin.

While he would not live to see it, two more albums would be released resulting from the work he did in the final months of his life: "American V: A Hundred Highways", released 2006, and 2010's "American VI: Ain't No Grave". The latter is a bit thin on the ground as far as material goes, but still has gems like "For The Good Times" (originally by Kris Kristofferson) and the title track, which is goosebump-inducing and was the subject of an incredibly dedicated fan project.

But the former is simply sublime, definitely another one of my favourite albums ever and one I've constantly found solace in. Simply put it is the most heartbreaking record I've ever heard. It also helped me appreciate gospel music and how empowering it could be.

Once again it sees Johnny dealing with the fact that his time on Earth would be short lived. The opener, "Help Me" sees Johnny "with a humble heart on bended knee" begging the Lord for one last lease on life. The track that immediately follows, "God's Gonna Cut You Down", appears to indicate the answer he'd expected. Closing track "I'm Free From The Chain Gang Now" feels less about the song's actual subject (an innocent man wrongly sent to jail finally having done his time) and more about Johnny being relieved of the burden of living when it was too hard to bear.
But the album also finds him attempting to handle the grief of losing his beloved wife June. While at times he seems philosophical ("Love's Been Good To Me") and in the comfort that they'll be together again soon ("Four Strong Winds"), more often than not he sounds completely devastated. The most obvious example is "Rose Of My Heart": to be frank, the man sounds close to tears singing it, and when caught in the right moment it might bring you to tears too. Hearing him on that song, it's hard to imagine this is the same man that sang of shooting men in Reno just to watch them die.

But the song on this album that cuts through me the most is easily "If You Could Read My Mind", originally a hit for Gordon Lightfoot. Johnny is obviously extremely frail when singing this but I find this actually helps this song to resonate even more with me. Quite often in my life I'll feel regretful over mistakes I've made and get anxious about whether I've done any lasting damage and if I'll ever get back to the way things used to be. I find this song very therapeutic when dealing with those times. Every time I hear those opening chords I get chills.

I feel incredibly lucky to have had Johnny's music, especially from this part of his career, in my life, and his legacy will last long after his death.

JOHNNY CASH 1932-2003

Starter For Ten

Good God I'm blogging. After three years of having this account I'm blogging. I don't know what's got into me. Busy week coming up too, moving in to the new flat, reports and seminars to write etc.

So this isn't the only bit of teh internetz I've been reacquainting myself with. I've wound up checking out Skype again, as it might be the most practical way to keep in touch with absent friends. I'm still not impressed.
I remember when I sent contact requests to lots of people when I first synced my Facebook to it and didn't get that many people sharing their details with me. I think I get why now: I got my friend to request my details the other day and when I logged in to my account, I couldn't for the life of me find where I "accept" him. Luckily I seem to have accepted him automatically, lord knows how.
I'm not a technophobe or anything, but why can't it be as simple as Facebook friend requests?

Anyway, other thoughts from my head today are:

• Over the weekend I made Yorkshire pudding for Yorkshire people, and they liked it. This makes me happy.
• Doing some Googling for my research internship, I discovered someone had made a Facebook fan page for transverse isotropy. I find that incredibly sad.
• Whilst on the subject of Maths, I've greatly been enjoying Alex In Numberland by Alex Bellos on my commute to work. I'd recommend it even to non-mathematicians, lots of ace stuff about puzzles and maths place in society etc.

Right, I think that's all for now. Maybe I'll write something really constructive eventually, like how I love _insert band name here_ or something.

Cheerio