Popdose Flashback ’91: R.E.M., “Out of Time”

Annie Zaleski March 7, 2011 15


It’s not often that a band releases two solid albums in the same week — twenty years apart. But such a gesture is just all in a day’s work for R.E.M. Tomorrow, the Athens, Georgia, rockers release the excellent Collapse Into Now, their fifteenth studio album, while this week in 1991, the band unveiled the lovely Out of Time.

Seldom has a title summarized a collection of songs so well. Out of Time is a genre- and era-free collection that’s arguably R.E.M.’s first truly adult album. (In fact, it took me years after I first heard it – thanks to my early ‘90s Columbia House membership — to fully appreciate its musical depth and lyrical nuance.) Once described by vocalist Michael Stipe as an attempt to “write an album of love songs,” Time is more a psychological dissection of love’s various forms – whether extant, extinct or somewhere in between.

More often than not, love is breaking apart (“Near Wild Heaven,” “Radio Song”), separated by distance (“Half a World Away”) or walking on eggshells (“Losing My Religion”). In “Belong,” fractured love leads to happiness and freedom; in “Near Wild Heaven,” the dissipation is bittersweet. In “Radio Song,” a once-loved tune leads to painful memories, while the tempestuous relationship described in “Me In Honey” becomes even more complicated due to pregnancy. Innocence is often the last thing touched upon — save for the perma-kindergarten waltz “Shiny Happy People” – although Time’s emotional undercurrents (homesickness, longing, loneliness, nostalgia, fear) are primal and easily understood.

Musically, the album remains singular in R.E.M.’s catalog, first and foremost because of its guest appearances. Hip-hop icon KRS-One adds swagger to “Radio Song” – an appearance that to this day polarizes the band’s fanbase. (I fall into the “unorthodox, but it works” camp.) B-52’s sprite Kate Pierson adds effervescent harmonies to “Shiny Happy People” and “Me In Honey” and subtler ones to “Country Feedback.” (Pierson also smiles and shimmies her way through the “People” video, which doubles as a hilarious window into just how much Peter Buck looks like he hates the song.)

But Time is also unique because it’s, well, so weird and accessible at the same time. The piano-blessed “Near Wild Heaven” has relatively simple harmonies, orchestral touches and chiming guitars; in fact, it’s very Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds. “Radio Song” has a jazzy organ and saxophone foundation that’s almost funky — or, well, as funky as R.E.M. ever gets — but the strings spinning around the chorus are carousel-dizzy. “Belong” is snapped-fingers slam-poetry alternating with gorgeous wordless harmonies, and “Low” presaged PJ Harvey’s brutal rawness, what with its ominous congas and distressed strings.

“Country Feedback” later became a live showcase for a stormy Buck guitar solo, but its studio version is a cowboys-wearing-spurs lope. “Texarkana” is twang-touched as well; it features a fat bassline, big-sky strings, pedal-steel curls and a yearning lead vocal from Mike Mills. The percussion-free “Half a World Away,” one of R.E.M.’s most criminally underrated songs, thrives on majestic mandolin and acoustic guitar. And, of course, there’s “Losing My Religion,” which peaked at No. 4 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart also on the strength of its mandolin. To this day it remains R.E.M.’s highest-charting song, and it won the band two Grammy Awards.

That Out of Time too was so wildly popular – it spent several weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard Top 200 album charts, between albums by Mariah Carey, Michael Bolton and Paula Abdul, and won the Best Alternative Music Album Grammy in 1992 — is even more impressive. It’s not pop. It’s not rock. It’s not folk. It’s not country. It’s not even orchestral-pop. It’s a lush amalgamation of all of these genres, and it doesn’t fit into any neat niche. Then again, the mainstream always caved to R.E.M., not vice versa – and in a year caught in the crosshairs of both musical revolution and dying trends, it’s somehow fitting that the scrappy college-rockers managed to connect with an album full of sophisticated, heartfelt sentiments.

  • http://www.discoskonfort.com/artists/drxl/ Anonymous

    Last time I checked the radio charts, “Losing my Religion” was still the second most played rock song in the country (i.e. Mexico), and among the twenty most played songs across al genres. Impressive for such a strange song, in a foreign language.

  • http://www.rftmusic.com Annie Zaleski

    Wow, that’s pretty awesome/crazy. Why do you think it has such staying power?

  • Snipnsnap

    R.E.M. was always hit or miss with me. But this song pretty much removed them from my interest list. “That’s me in the corner…”. Third person, existential tripe. “I think I thought I saw you try”. I think I thought I heard unnecessary redundancy. You can think or you could have though- no reason for both. Just isipid, lazy lyricism delivered with whiny, nasally vocals that the masses proclaimed profound poetry.

  • http://www.popdose.com DwDunphy

    Maybe it was the acoustic instrumentation?

  • Anonymous

    No one proclaimed it profound poetry. Really. No one did that. But the masses did proclaim it a kick-ass song!

    And if you’re going to try to sound erudite, work on your spelling and grammar. And comprehension.

  • http://www.discoskonfort.com/artists/drxl/ Anonymous

    I think Annie nailed it by calling it “era-less”. Most other huge hits from the nineties sound very ‘nineties’ in so far as they are linked to styles closely connected to our perception of the nineties, i.e. grunge, nü-metal, etc. College rock was never a style. I think that is also the reason why The Pixies are also now more popular than ever. They do not sound of-a-particular-era at all.

    I also think it might have a lot to do with timing. It was the last huge rock hit before the rise of Spanish-spoken rock on Mexican radio. As the nineties progressed, listeners divided between hose who preferred it in English, and those who liked it better in Spanish.

  • Jyo

    “Shiny Happy People” may be a lot of things, but it’s not a waltz.

  • Anonymous

    I gave my copy of Out of Time its first thorough spin in the better part of a decade on the way to work today, a move inspired by this piece. I’ve gotten as far as “Belong” and it still shines, though my opinion of “Shiny Happy People” hasn’t wavered. Weakest single of their heyday. I never would have drawn a parallel between “Near Wild Heaven” and Pet Sounds (my favorite album bar none) but I will concede that the overlapping vocals at the end echo the similar effect in “God Only Knows”. As I write this, I’m revisiting Accelerate, and it’s sounding rather one-dimensional after an earful of “Low” and “Endgame”.

    For what it’s worth, the “once-loved tune [that] leads to painful memories” could be “Losing My Religion” for this commentator. I got some vivid relationship flashbacks in the car.

  • http://www.rftmusic.com Annie Zaleski

    The middle of the song/bridge is indeed a waltz.

  • http://www.rftmusic.com Annie Zaleski

    In the light of editing day, I might say that “Near Wild Heaven” is REM covering Pet Sounds; I see a lot of vocal parallels, but married to REM’s more traditional jangle. The production is also so nuanced and lush; it also reminded me of some Beach Boys stuff in that way. So I wasn’t precise enough, I don’t think.

    Ha, I dig SHP. I can’t tell you why, but I do! Sometimes I like non-cynical things.

    Thanks for listening and reading.

  • Jeremygthorne

    Its kind’ve sad really because I feel like kids these days are so focused on singles and not albums, that all anyone really knows of REM is Losing My Religion. Its a good album, but I dont see or hear kids mentioning the album as a whole, if at all.

    And I LOVE shiny happy people…

  • Anonymous

    If you saw my singles collection, you’d know I can be as cynicism-free as all get out. It just didn’t take here. “Shiny Happy Monsters” was cool, though.

  • BKDO

    Great article. Definitely one of my favorite r.e.m. LP’s and always an audio reminder of life at 20 (!). This album (ok, technically this cassette) was playing in the background of many fun–and also many painful–moments. They all flood back at once when I spin this one.

  • http://www.rftmusic.com Annie Zaleski

    we should have posted that video. :) i think it’s “happy furry monsters” or something…

  • mlk

    Excellent use of the word ‘erudite’.