Self-motivated as R.E.M. was from the very outset of their career, it is hardly coincidental that the iconoclastic Georgians released their most creatively ambitious work only after leaving the independent IRS Records in 1988 for the major label conglomerate of the Warner Brothers label. There was no little chagrin in certain of their followers when the move occurred, so perhaps such courageous efforts as Out of Time and Automatic for the People were the quartet’s way of placating fears of any sell-out(s). Regardless, the group also found its greatest mainstream success with those two records and did so in large measure by jettisoning the earmarks of the so-called ‘jangle-pop’ associated with them in their early days circa 1983’s Murmur.
The 1996 album New Adventures in Hi-Fi clearly illustrates how far afield stylistically R.E.M had gone even since their initial mainstream breakthrough on 1987’s Document. And the twenty-fifth anniversary reissue packages of the title also reaffirm how prolific the foursome was at that time; certainly the bonus-filled 2-CD/1-Blu-ray Deluxe Edition isn’t intended to blur the focus, but a streamlined package of two compact discs clarifies the unit’s bravery as well as its imagination. Including the remastered album along with B-sides and rarities, plus a poster and four collectible postcards, as well as a booklet featuring new liner notes and archival photos, it is a package similar to previous milestone issues of their catalog, hearkening directly to collectible paraphernalia of those DIY days of yore.
Written and recorded in the midst of the group’s Monster tour, the set is a worthy commemoration of the group’s final turn recording with original drummer and founding member Bill Berry. A half dozen cuts from live performances, soundchecks and even the tour bus reappear on the second CD from its counterpart disc, thus furthering the sense of continuity R.E.M. was fostering with the novel approach to generating new material. Based most obviously on the titles, some more obviously than others ratify the overall concept of this album as ‘… a record about being on the road without singing about being on the road…,’. “So Fast So Numb” indeed. Yet nothing sounds hurried, but rather completely in the moment.
Credit where credit is due, to the band and longtime producer Scott Litt, the hour-plus as originally released and in newly-remastered, deeply resonant audio form here hasn’t lost much of that atmosphere. For instance, “How The West Was Won (And How It Got Us Here)” sounds like an protracted daydream in sound, its reverie wholly mesmerizing, until the abrupt beginning of the loud, jagged crunch guitarist Peter Buck uses for the aforementioned “Bomb” that immediately follows. “New Test Leper,” in all its vigorous acoustic guitar strumming comes across as a close (and equally enigmatic) cousin of “Losing My Religion,” as does “Bittersweet Me”(not unexpectedly based on its title).
As with the ‘finished’ versions on the fourteen cuts, the in-progress nature of the alternate takes radiate a palpable ‘on the run’ ambiance. It is virtually a mirror image of the ‘final’ album and fully comparable in detail right down to Mills’ counterpoint harmonies and a perfectly earnest and sincere reading of the Jimmy Webb/Glen Campbell chestnut of 1968 “Wichita Lineman:” if anyone’s looking for proof of Michael Stipe’s elevated stature as a vocalist, go no further—unless it’s to this wry (sarcastic?) take on the Troggs’ “Love Is All Around.”
All the experimentation of the earlier albums clearly had the effect of altering, then crystallizing the core components of R.E.M.’s music in a continuous and purposeful growth process. Tracks in this anniversary set such as “E Bow The Letter” document how fluently the band interweaves the various sonic into a cohesive whole. Nevertheless, it is a somewhat dizzying listening experience to absorb the interweaving of hard rock noise, down-to-earth pop, folk and country strains plus the unsettling dissonance on the Expanded Edition.
No doubt the circumstances of its creation were similar and perhaps even no less potentially off-putting. Kudos to R.E.M. For seeing the concept through to its initial execution and now this re-visitation. Yet in the context of this double-disc release, the two-minutes thirty-four second instrumental “Zither” only adds to a cinematic aura enhanced by the finality of “Electrolite:” the slight air of a nursery rhyme meshes with the rhythmic trot of a cowboy song via the quiet reverberation of acoustic piano and the pop of drums.
Besides the two physical sets of the 25th Anniversary New Adventures in Hi-Fi, a digital release is available as well as a limited-edition pressing on vinyl (available exclusively at the band’s official store along with custom merchandise, the mercenary/marketing angles of which may be the purist fans’ nightmare). In more straightforward and pragmatic terms, however, this milestone reimagining of the last studio effort by the original four-man lineup is an emphatic final punctuation on R.E.M.’s long-term personal statement of chemistry, one which to this day remains altogether rare in contemporary rock and roll.
