ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Friday, September 20, 1996 TAG: 9609200030
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 7 EDITION: METRO
TYPE: RECORD REVIEW
SOURCE: DAVE FERMAN Fort Worth Star-Telegram
``New Adventures n Hi-Fi,'' the new R.E.M. compact disc, is one of those collections of songs that goes to work on you right away.
It gives, as John McPhee would put it, good weight.
Frankly, I didn't know if these guys had another great CD left in them, especially when considering the lightweight hard-rock moves of 1994's ``Monster,'' how grueling and problem-plagued the '95 tour was, and that plenty of bands that have sold far fewer CDs have rested on their laurels and put out shoddy product time and time again. After all, how many bands can you name that put out stellar music after 14 years?
``Adventures,'' however, stands up to the best music R.E.M. has ever made. Harnessing some of the glam-rock/'70s hard-rock crunch of ``Monster'' with the melodies, sad introspection and acoustic lushness of ``Out of Time'' and ``Automatic for the People,'' ``Adventures'' feels like a journey accomplished and finished.
We begin with ``How the West Was Won and Where It Got Us,'' an odd, spare tale of getting everything but still being dissatisfied, and end with ``Electrolite,'' in which Michael Stipe drives through the glitz of Los Angeles, muses aloud about Steve McQueen, James Dean and the end of the century, and signs off with ``I'm not scared/I'm out of here,'' a casual statement of purpose tossed off as the limo door closes.
In effect, R.E.M. has given us back the mystery: the shadowy, half-heard story lines and striking, bright images that have always allowed us to find our own way through its music. Once again, Stipe, with vocal help from Patti Smith on the inky ``E-bow The Letter,'' is slipping around corners by toying with language, donning different personae and drawing us in. Once again, he has fully integrated HOW he sings with WHAT he's singing about by making the commonplace sound new; he lets odd lines and phrases float to the surface, take hold for a moment and point the way through the grainy murk.
At one moment, he's obscure and quirky (''Binky the Doormat''); next, he's doing a simple love song that brims with sweetly hopeful singing (''Be Mine''). Now, he's sketching out an odd, sun-drenched story of escape (''Low Desert''); then, he's penning what may be a suicide note (''Undertow''). He's all over the place ... a little kid and a guy you might see with a battered suitcase in a bus station and a millionaire with a mansion on the hill, and it all adds up.
He and the rest of the band have gained in maturity and lost none of their humanity. With ``Adventures,'' they're telling us that they're a long way from finished, a long way from complacent and self-satisfied and fat and happy.
The evidence here is that they're still one of the best bands on the planet.
LENGTH: Medium: 55 linesby CNB