R.E.M. "Electrolite"

"I'm Outta Here."

I thought it would have been such a fitting end.

That line is the last lyric on the last song on what could have been R.E.M.'s last record, "The New Adventures In Hi Fi."

Bill Berry, the band's drummer, had decided to leave the band, and R.E.M. was the type of group, the type of people, where, if one guy left, the whole band was over.

I mean, they made some pretty interesting, classy decisions in their career.

You know, every R.E.M. song's writing credit, is credited to all band members? Most bands have the person who wrote the lyrics, get the songwriting credit (and therefore, that part of the royalties). But R.E.M. wanted to acknowledge the equal contribution of all members.

When their longtime manager from the early days, left/was dismissed from the band, the band simply issued a statement saying they would not discuss the details. And never have.

And when Berry decided to leave the group, they called a press conference and all four members sat on camera for an interview to discuss Berry leaving the band, and to say that they would honor his wish that the group continue.

Think about that. Can you think of another band that had a member abruptly leave, and held an amicable press conference to calmly discuss it? Instead of sniping through the press (hello Van Halen, Rolling Stones, ad finitum).

And (well, so far anyway), this week's break-up announcement was devoid of the drama and/or opportunistic hype that a lesser band would have taken advantage of.

They could have announced this coming break-up ahead of a "Farewell Tour," to boost sales.

But they didn't.

The released a simple statement, with comments from each member, saying thanks to the fans. And calling it quits for the right reasons---they had said everything they needed to say as a group.

Classy.

My greatest reason for appreciating how this band has conducted itself all these years, is a personal one.

Sometime I'll tell you the tangled story of the hostile corporate takeover of the first radio station I worked for. But let me jump to the R.E.M. part.

We were trying to block this corporation from taking over our little, family-owned, independent radio station, by petitioning the FCC to stop the sale.

The local community had been rallied, but we wanted to have some weighty voices from other camps. My job was to contact artists, and ask them to write a letter to the FCC on our behalf.

I wrote to 50 American artists, not necessarily expecting anything.

But one group got back in touch with me.

I got a call from an assistant to R.E.M.'s manager, Bertis Downs, who asked a few questions, and then said, "What do you need us to do?" and "When do you need us to do it?"

I asked if they could draft a letter, asking the FCC to help the community keep our radio station. I gave her a few of the salient points the letter should hit.

And that was it. To paraphrase Arlo Guthrie, "somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a study in black and white" of R.E.M.'s attention, commitment and honorableness.

I'm happy we have their many years of music. I'm grateful that it was made by people who have lived up to the reverence being shown to them.


See the video on Youtube.