Jan
27
2010
Electrolite L.A.
Author: SamThis song came out somewhere in a state of amnesia for me, and when I finally did hear it, it had been something even old fans already loved for a couple years. I’m like a lot of their original fans, I followed them from Murmur up to Life’s Rich Pageant, and even though Green got me through some hard moments, it was only a few moments. It may be that the angst I felt when I was 23 had already started to diminish by the time I turned 23 1/2, but there’s something about this group that wakes up an old feeling somewhere. A couple of songs later, and I’m nursing some forgotten pain like a new toothache, and the world is suddenly very bright.
R.E.M. was something my girlfriend and I would listen to while having one of those long, life-changing talks where you discover there’s another interesting person in the world besides yourself. We’d talk about how we wanted to find our way to a cheap hotel in Los Angeles where we could hole up and practice our art. Maybe we could call Michael Stipe by then, maybe we’d be friends, and he’d want to work with us on a new project. We had ideas about an installation about poisoning in history, and he would be a kind of Mortimer Brewster figure with a shaved head and a lot of darkness.
Those things are still coming somewhere in the future, but for now, I had the chance to listen to Electrolite on my way to L.A. one summer night, and the result was kind of stunning. This was a new R.E.M. all right, with new ideas and new textures. The deep and often unintelligible critique of the American Dream was very solid in this, and it still had that weird way they have of making you want to cry a little bit while you’re eating. The most sensational time I had, however, was another trip, riding my friend’s motorcycle down Mullholland Drive, looking at the Hollywood Bowl, and this song came up on the car stereo next to me at a stoplight. It would have been so much more poetic had the driver been my old girlfriend, but much more like R.E.M. that it was a middle aged man in a Hawaiian shirt, who looked a lot like me.