Last weekend, I was out for drinks with Craig Sherman, who likes to ask questions.
"If you could be anyone famous, who would you be?"
Strangely, the answer came to me quickly.
"Mike Mills of R.E.M."
Waay back in college, I had a next door neighbor from Georgia and a bunch of friends who were musicians. So naturally, we learned a few R.E.M. songs.
Even though it was a cover, we thought "Superman" (a hidden track on the cassette!) would be a great addition to our repertoire.
Kristine had the best voice, so of course she would sing the Michael Stipe part. And since I could barely do anything else to contribute (my bass playing skills were severely limited), I got to sing the Mike Mills part.
And here's what I discovered.
Despite the fact that Stipe get referred to as the "lead singer" and Mills as the "back-up singer," on "Superman" Mills sings just as much as Stipe does.
In fact, this is true on a ton of R.E.M. songs. He never comes off as the "lead singer" (except for the couple of songs he gets to sing lead on, from "Out Of Time"), but he's not a background guy by any stretch.
I became more attuned his contributions to the band.
A casual R.E.M. fan might suspect that R.E.M.'s melodic sensibility came from either the lead singer with amazing pipes, or the guitar player (Peter Buck) who seemed to produce endless combinations to guitar (and later, mandolin) figures to build songs around.
But multi-instrumentalist Mills, was the main contributor of songs you know and love, like "Don't Go Back To Rockville," "Nightswimming" and "At My Most Beautiful."
So Craig Sherman asked the question, and as I flipped through names in my head, I stopped on Mike Mills.
As I told Craig, and the rest of of gang at the table:
"He's this awesome musician, in one of the biggest bands in the world, but he never had to live out front. He's been super-successful, and never has to work again if he doesn't want to, so he's free to pursue whatever creative outlets he wants to. He'll probably eventually make a solo record, but he'll be able to do so without the crushing expectations that will be heaped upon a Michael Stipe solo record."
I'm sure my therapist would have a few interesting thoughts about my reasons for picking him.
Hear the song on Youtube.
Showing posts with label michael stipe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label michael stipe. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Friday, September 23, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
R.E.M. "Tongue"
"Are you guys getting wet out there?"
I was seeing R.E.M. on their tour supporting "Monster." It was their first tour in 6 years. Things had changed for R.E.M.
The last time they had been on tour, it was behind the album "Green," their 6th record, which, like each predecessor, got them a little more attention than the last record. They had graduated to playing arenas.
But albums seven and eight were real breakthroughs, major worldwide successes. So by the time record number nine, "Monster," was released, the band's decision to tour brought them to much larger venues, including outdoor amphitheaters.
This night, outside of Nashville, Tennessee, the weather wasn't so great. Rain had been on and off, and thunderstorms were threatening. But the rain had stopped when Michael Stipe asked the question:
"Are you guys getting wet out there?"
And it struck me as a sign of much change with R.E.M. when Stipe, is a slow, low voice, followed his question with:
"I'm a little moist myself."
With earlier albums touching on political subjects and more recent albums awash in tasteful strings, with their activism up-front-and-center and their prevailing attitude being unadulterated earnestness, R.E.M. up to that point, had never struck me as a "funny" band. Or a "sexy" band.
Fun? Yes. Energetic? Yes. Even cheerful? Sometimes. But not usually funny. And never playfully sexy.
But in a quick flash on the previous album (when Stipe throws an Andy Kaufman-as-Elvis-Presley impression into "Man On The Moon"), and moreso on "Monster," the band, and Stipe in particular, seemed to be having fun with the characters in the songs.
And the song that followed his "moist" quip seemed to be the culmination of a willingness to really be something different, be someone different.
He introduced the song by saying, "Sometimes I write songs for boys. Sometimes I write songs for girls. This one, is for the ladies."
Can you imagine a full-song falsetto, up-front and on top of the mix, on an early album like "Fables Of The Reconstruction" or "Murmur"? No way.
"Tongue" had it. It sounded great. It suited the band. It was a sign of change and of growth. It was a good moment.
See the video on Youtube.
From a documentary, with a bit of discussion about "Tongue"
See the video on Youtube.
I was seeing R.E.M. on their tour supporting "Monster." It was their first tour in 6 years. Things had changed for R.E.M.
The last time they had been on tour, it was behind the album "Green," their 6th record, which, like each predecessor, got them a little more attention than the last record. They had graduated to playing arenas.
But albums seven and eight were real breakthroughs, major worldwide successes. So by the time record number nine, "Monster," was released, the band's decision to tour brought them to much larger venues, including outdoor amphitheaters.
This night, outside of Nashville, Tennessee, the weather wasn't so great. Rain had been on and off, and thunderstorms were threatening. But the rain had stopped when Michael Stipe asked the question:
"Are you guys getting wet out there?"
And it struck me as a sign of much change with R.E.M. when Stipe, is a slow, low voice, followed his question with:
"I'm a little moist myself."
With earlier albums touching on political subjects and more recent albums awash in tasteful strings, with their activism up-front-and-center and their prevailing attitude being unadulterated earnestness, R.E.M. up to that point, had never struck me as a "funny" band. Or a "sexy" band.
Fun? Yes. Energetic? Yes. Even cheerful? Sometimes. But not usually funny. And never playfully sexy.
But in a quick flash on the previous album (when Stipe throws an Andy Kaufman-as-Elvis-Presley impression into "Man On The Moon"), and moreso on "Monster," the band, and Stipe in particular, seemed to be having fun with the characters in the songs.
And the song that followed his "moist" quip seemed to be the culmination of a willingness to really be something different, be someone different.
He introduced the song by saying, "Sometimes I write songs for boys. Sometimes I write songs for girls. This one, is for the ladies."
Can you imagine a full-song falsetto, up-front and on top of the mix, on an early album like "Fables Of The Reconstruction" or "Murmur"? No way.
"Tongue" had it. It sounded great. It suited the band. It was a sign of change and of growth. It was a good moment.
See the video on Youtube.
From a documentary, with a bit of discussion about "Tongue"
See the video on Youtube.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Indigo Girls with Michael Stipe “Kid Fears”
It was Spring 1990, and my college roommates and I had picked up tickets to The Worcester Centrum to see R.E.M. We were pretty dare excited, since a love of the band had played a large part in forging our friendship in the dorms of UMass Amherst.
So as not to miss a minute, we were sure to be on the scene very early and we caught the opening act, some band I’d never heard of.
It’s funny, 20 years later, to remember a time when I didn’t know who the Indigo Girls were. But at the time of this story, I was open ears, and ready to be impressed.
Not surprisingly, they won me over pretty quickly, but the most entertaining part of the night, was when, part-way through the start of a somewhat dark song, a figure emerged from the shadows to join the girls.
Michael Stipe’s soaring vocals joined a song I’d later learn was “Kid Fears.”
From the moment he opened his mouth, the crowd---who was there to see R.E.M., not this no-name opening band---went wild. Seeing Stipe an hour earlier than planned just sent them into spasms of fan-ecstacy.
Then another figure emerged from the shadows. An audible gasp rose from the crowd. Then waves of applause.
Mike Mills? Bill Berry? Peter Buck?
No, it turned out to be a roadie, carrying out an extra mic stand.
Sheepishly, he waved to the crowd, and with a big smile on his face, he faded back into the shadows.
So as not to miss a minute, we were sure to be on the scene very early and we caught the opening act, some band I’d never heard of.
It’s funny, 20 years later, to remember a time when I didn’t know who the Indigo Girls were. But at the time of this story, I was open ears, and ready to be impressed.
Not surprisingly, they won me over pretty quickly, but the most entertaining part of the night, was when, part-way through the start of a somewhat dark song, a figure emerged from the shadows to join the girls.
Michael Stipe’s soaring vocals joined a song I’d later learn was “Kid Fears.”
From the moment he opened his mouth, the crowd---who was there to see R.E.M., not this no-name opening band---went wild. Seeing Stipe an hour earlier than planned just sent them into spasms of fan-ecstacy.
Then another figure emerged from the shadows. An audible gasp rose from the crowd. Then waves of applause.
Mike Mills? Bill Berry? Peter Buck?
No, it turned out to be a roadie, carrying out an extra mic stand.
Sheepishly, he waved to the crowd, and with a big smile on his face, he faded back into the shadows.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Magnapop “Open The Door”
Hitting Random on the iTunes list . . .
In my pre-mvyradio days, I hosted a Modern Rock specialty show on a great little independent radio station in Virginia.
I’d end each December with a big Friday night show, counting down the top Alternative songs of the year. And in that countdown, I had a few sub-categories and awards, including handing out what I called “The Magnapop Award.”
Music History is rife with stories of great bands that made great records, that no one heard, due to Record Label injustices. Some of my favorite artists are famous because of records that didn’t get released, or got released but didn’t get supported by the label. Big Star, Bettye Lavette, Delbert McClinton and Wilco all have stories to tell.
But I started the award after hearing about Magnapop.
They had enjoyed breakthrough success in the Modern Rock world in the mid-nineties, with the release of “Hot Boxing.” They had recording/producing support from Michael Stipe, and Bob Mould. They were opening for The Lemonheads and R.E.M.
The acclaim for their next record, “Rubbing Doesn’t Help,” was hugely positive, when they had the rug pulled out. Shortly after the release of the record, their label, Priority Records went out of business. With no label behind the record, it didn’t get distributed to stores properly (in the pre-MP3 age, if it wasn’t in your local record store, you couldn’t buy it), and it didn’t get proper support at radio.
But the real kick in the ass was this: due to the kind of contract only a Record Label could write, the band was contractually prevented from using the name Magnapop for 7 years.
Yes, the Label couldn’t provide for them, but wouldn’t let them provide for themselves.
Magnapop is still out there, making dynamic music, but it’s hard not to feel like the wind was taken out of their sails (and sales) at a crucial moment.
So every year, I would give “The Magnapop Award” to a band that had been screwed by their label, and deserved better. Go back and check out “Rubbing Doesn’t Help”
See the video, here
In my pre-mvyradio days, I hosted a Modern Rock specialty show on a great little independent radio station in Virginia.
I’d end each December with a big Friday night show, counting down the top Alternative songs of the year. And in that countdown, I had a few sub-categories and awards, including handing out what I called “The Magnapop Award.”
Music History is rife with stories of great bands that made great records, that no one heard, due to Record Label injustices. Some of my favorite artists are famous because of records that didn’t get released, or got released but didn’t get supported by the label. Big Star, Bettye Lavette, Delbert McClinton and Wilco all have stories to tell.
But I started the award after hearing about Magnapop.
They had enjoyed breakthrough success in the Modern Rock world in the mid-nineties, with the release of “Hot Boxing.” They had recording/producing support from Michael Stipe, and Bob Mould. They were opening for The Lemonheads and R.E.M.
The acclaim for their next record, “Rubbing Doesn’t Help,” was hugely positive, when they had the rug pulled out. Shortly after the release of the record, their label, Priority Records went out of business. With no label behind the record, it didn’t get distributed to stores properly (in the pre-MP3 age, if it wasn’t in your local record store, you couldn’t buy it), and it didn’t get proper support at radio.
But the real kick in the ass was this: due to the kind of contract only a Record Label could write, the band was contractually prevented from using the name Magnapop for 7 years.
Yes, the Label couldn’t provide for them, but wouldn’t let them provide for themselves.
Magnapop is still out there, making dynamic music, but it’s hard not to feel like the wind was taken out of their sails (and sales) at a crucial moment.
So every year, I would give “The Magnapop Award” to a band that had been screwed by their label, and deserved better. Go back and check out “Rubbing Doesn’t Help”
See the video, here
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