R.E.M. When the Light is Mine: The Best of the IRS Years 82-87

Capitol Records has just released a DVD of all of R.E.M.’s IRS-era videos, which is pretty awesome, and they’ve added some great archival bonus video to make it well worth the purchase. Here’s a video-by-video breakdown of the DVD, in order:

“Wolves, Lower” (Youtube) This video had to either be a favor from a guy with a tape-to-tape editing system, or a University of Georgia video class project. Either way, it’s a pretty good first go, though the backlight might be too bright on the performance clips. The ultra-slo-mo footage of Stipe dancing in a circle I could watch for at least fifteen more minutes, and the superimposition montage over the guitar freak-out section is nice. The first example of Bill Berry in a white, buttoned-to-the-neck-shirt.

“Radio-Free Europe” (Youtube) Okay this one, very garden-y (folk artist Howard Finster’s house, actually–see comments), has always reminded me of the clip for either “Paperback Writer” or “Rain” (or both?) that the Beatles sent to Ed Sullivan because they couldn’t be there in person. It’s got all the signs of the arty amateur video project, too—guys walking around aimlessly in a really pretty and sorta creepy environment. Could Mike Mills’ bass line be any greater, especially during the verses? Again, Berry with buttoned-up white shirt.

“Talk About the Passion” (mp3) One of their greatest songs, one of their worst videos (made four years later). With the stark, black and white imagery and footage of tenement buildings and homeless people, the clip could only have been released during the Reagan era. It casts a different light on the song’s lyrics, though, which is fine, but I’d rather just listen to this one on headphones.

“Radio-Free Europe” and “Talk About the Passion” (live on The Tube, 11.18.1983)
So I’ve never heard of this show before, but the audience paid to stand in front of the stage could not be lamer. They’re not dancing—they’re barely moving—and they keep looking at the camera as if it has come into their bedroom while they’re doing homework. But the band marches on (and yes, they’re actually playing, not syncing), especially Pete Buck (the “rock star” of the group), who prances erratically around the stage during “Radio” like a fey-er Pete Townshend. It’s a great version of the song—tons of energy and a near-complete ignorance of the audience. As for “Passion”, it’s still better heard through headphones.

“South Central Rain” Their prettiest video to this point, for their prettiest song. It’s shot on pretty 35mm instead of video, and Stipe’s hair is long and pretty. There’s not much here in terms of content, which is fine, because the song takes precedence. The next time you hear this song, consider it in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, which I do. It’s a new song then.

“Left of Reckoning” A headache-inducing collage of 16mm footage of the band goofing around. You can seriously 16x through this one—it’s like 20 minutes.

“Pretty Persuasion” (live on The Old Grey Whistle Test, 11.20.1984) Also available on the Whistle compilation DVD (buy) (which is awesome by the way). The sound mix is off on this clip, but maybe just on my speakers. Stipe’s got long, long hair, and Berry’s wearing a beret. Again, Mills’ bassline rules the school, and Stipe blows some harmonica, son.

“Can’t Get There From Here” Far and away their dumbest and funnest video. What else can one do with a song this ebullient and goofy, but make a greenscreen video with spliced-in home video footage? (see also: Pavement) I don’t know what the R.E.M. fan consensus is on the song, but I’ve always loved it–especially the chorus, where it’s “I’ve been there, I know the way” under “Can’t get there from here,” like what you’d get if you pull off the road in the rural South and ask directions from two old men sitting in front of a gas station.

“Driver 8” (Youtube) Starts off with Stipe trying to sound as good ol’ boy as he possibly can, over some film footage of trains and stuff. Then, oh! that Pete Buck guitar phrase is one of the most solemn, gorgeous things from the 80s. Video—meh. Trains and stuff with occasional Stipe.

“Life and How to Live It” (mp3) Sometimes, this is my favorite R.E.M. song. I’m usually opposed to the blurry, stop-motion concert footage trope, but it somehow manages to work here, underneath one of the band’s most high-energy, danceable songs.  And that bridge…ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

“Feeling Gravity’s Pull” Another one of my all-time faves, and the song that gives the DVD its title. Unfortunately, same spiel as the previous video. Man, the things I could do with this song. Fun fact: the line “it’s a Man Ray kind of sky, let me show you what I can do with it” is one of Stipe’s best lyrical moments.

“Can’t Get There From Here” (live on The Tube, 10.25.1985) The crowd’s a little more lively, but not much. But we do get to see an early example of Stipe-Dance, which is a marvelous thing. Hands operating independent of anything, arms bent at the elbow, head shaking, feet sort of moving. Buck is in full Keith Richards mode here, and Stipe is fabulous with pink eyebrows and gelled-up, blonde hair.

“Fall on Me” (Youtube) When I was a kid, this video blew my mind. And the contrast of the lime-green letterboxing and the orange letters over constantly moving black and white footage of urban decay is still striking. The fact that the video is essentially a lyric sheet for the song is nicely subversive, too. This was the first time I’d ever heard of R.E.M., and don’t think I didn’t notice Mike Mills’ contrapuntal voice in the background, either. It’s a wonder.

“Swan Swan H” I’ve always been on the fence with this song—I have very mixed memories associated with Life’s Rich Pageant, and I’m not a big fan of waltzes. But the video is just marvelous. The band makes a stage in a church undergoing massive renovations, and re-records the song for the video, which is always nice. And it’s prime, prime, prime mid-late 80s R.E.M. fashion, too—Mills has his glasses now, Buck has the long hair, Stipe’s going with the hats and blazers, and Berry’s still rocking the Victorian shirts that cover the neck. It’s the best visual translation one could hope for with this song. They’re all growed up and on the cusp of being HUGE.

“The One I Love” (Youtube) I realize because of this DVD that the performance clips in this song are pretty much the same as they were in “Wolves, Lower,” only more technically realized. Again, it’s a gorgeous video, and their artiest yet, with the shot of the guy with his head in the woman’s lap, same woman walking through the forest at night, and the firecrackers on the ground superimposed over the washbasin. And I still get goosebumps when the guy mouths the word “Fire!” It’s Southern Gothic Surrealist psychedelia, and it’s easily one of the greatest videos of the 1980s. This is the one that also always confused the VJs on MTV at the time. It was awesome enough to get mainstream rotation, but still weird enough to leave Adam Curry speechless.

“It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” (Youtube) Don’t tell me you didn’t keep trying that one-hand handstand with a skateboard, no matter how stupid you feel about it. Because you know you did. It’s obvious the song owes its structure to “Subterranean Homesick Blues” (and earlier, Chuck Berry’s “Too Much Monkey Business”), and the video works well as an update, with a single figure (the skater kid) rummaging through a house full of junk, trying to make sense of it and turn it into performance. The thing, you know, that’s easier to do with a bunch of cue cards and Allen Ginsberg. And the dog face closeup during “Leonard Bernstein” still makes me smile.

“Finest Worksong” One of Buck’s most electrifying guitar moments, and a fitting tribute to both Socialist ideology and Futurist imagery (standing with hammer over shoulder). The setting looks like the leftovers from “End of the World,” with the dude here just smashing up whatever the band didn’t want to take to Goodwill. It’s also, with the smashing and the fire and the what-not, a fitting ending to the first phase of the band’s career.

“The Cutting Edge” (October 1983 and June 1984) Apparently, this was a local show from Athens (?), and they did an extended feature on R.E.M. right as the band was becoming cult heroes. Seriously, this is the thing that should make you buy this DVD, or Netflix it at least. Maybe it’s just the former video-geek side of me, but there’s so much more history and sentimentality contained in these 45 (yes, 45!) minutes than in the whole of all of the videos on the DVD. The guy in the Pylon t-shirt that starts the clip ends his segment by predicting that the band would become the biggest thing in the world. He was just kidding then, I’m assuming, right? The show is standard package format—interviews, b-roll and performance footage—and the interviews, especially the ones with Peter Buck, are priceless. Buck comes across as a cocky indie geek—name-dropping as many of his idols as he can squeeze in (he did work at Wuxtry Records, remember)—Sky Saxon from the Seeds, Neil Young, the “brave” new Black Flag record, and then a comparison to Hank Williams to boot. Which leads to the part when the entire band starts dropping names of current bands (the dBs, Let’s Active, Husker Du, Wire Train, Fleshtones, Love Tractor, etc.). It dispelled a lot of the mythology I’d built around the band, revealing them as music geeks like anyone else. Mills also talks about the spontaneity of the recording sessions, and the stellar, very blue-cast (and extensive) performance footage supports this—they just whip out these songs, sometimes starting them over, usually talking to the videographers as they’re going. And Buck, during this session, which is included in full, demonstrates why he’s just one of the greatest and most underappreciated guitarists of his generation. And they play “Don’t Go Back to Rockville.”

Buy When the Light is Mine here.

Filed under: music video  R.E.M.