R.E.M.
Monster

IO REM CONTR.

The "Sex Hangover" is something that, sooner or later, hits everyone. It happens to me, to my building's concierge, and surely to you as well, my beloved chronic fappers! But it's not serious, don't worry... some overcome it by different means, like indulging in porn tapes, for instance, or subscribing to weekly issues of MI-SEX, while others "somatize" it all by writing books, painting, cooking, composing poetry, or making music. This is the case for this world-famous band which, after the global success of the diptych OUT OF TIME - AUTOMATIC FOR THE PEOPLE, published MONSTER in 1994, a sort of concept album with "sex & its derivatives" as the common denominator, drastically switching directions and, in effect, changing the band's musical style. But things don't always arise "spontaneously," randomly, and sincerely as the fans of every creed and flag ALWAYS AND IN EVERY CASE believe...

1994, in fact, for those who remember, was the "year of grunge"; everyone talked about it and the covers of the most famous weeklies (musical and not) were all about the new heroes of the movement (Cobain leading the charge). And what might our lads have thought? "Let's do a nice grunge album too, damn it... are you telling me we can't do it?! Come on, yeah... a sea of banging guitars, four simple chords, 'no-future' lyrics, and goodnight to the bucket!" Could it have gone that way, or am I being my usual far too cynical?!
And so this album, with the group's previous works from Athens, basically HAS NOTHING TO DO (apart from Stipe's distinctive voice which has little or nothing to do with grunge? it's like Samuele Bersani singing Heavy Metal!): heavily distorted guitars, strong and aggressive drums, throbbing and obsessive bass lines, in short, an atypical and out-of-classification "episode" in the band's production. A classic rock-blues riff from Peter Buck's guitar opens with "What's the frequency, Kenneth?" (a heavy and engaging track, unsurprisingly one of the most played by R. E. M. to open their subsequent live shows). With "Crush with eyeliner," there's a notable participation by Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth on guitar, effectively a "Decibel Tsunami" that overpowers everything and everyone, even Stipe's own voice that shouts to no avail since it's hard to understand what the heck he means, but I imagine this effect is meticulously crafted; with "King of comedy," sexual references begin to become evident which we will find throughout the album (Stipe himself stated in an interview with a young journalist: "Monster is an album where the main subject is sex and its obsessive perversions? What are you up to tonight?"). "I don't sleep, I dream" is one of the most "sex-maniacal" tracks on the album (and perhaps in their entire discography); particularly memorable is the falsetto chorus by Stipe that whines "... did you come to ease my headache? Are you good at blowjobs? Am I good in bed? Who's better?). Whether it's a "genuine need" or a scheme to appeal to the asexual teenage worshipers of the band, we do not know, and if it's a secret, rest assured, they will take it to the grave!
"Star 69" (69... no kidding, we're in oratory joke territory...) quite bland precedes "Strange currencies" and "Tongue," the only two songs that somewhat vaguely resemble their old style: the first a mushy love song, the second a slow prurient ballad (Stipe sings again in falsetto, and the lyric is still full of sexual references - "... anyone can f***... call me, here I am... the last desperate lay, will I ever learn?..."). Certainly, the fact that he hadn't yet done explicit "outing" explains this need to "reveal himself" or focus so intensely on themes that evidently destabilized him quite a bit. The album resumes with the dominant guitar of "Bang and blame," a piece where the gallant Mike Mills gives it his all with his hypnotic and "very brutal" bass; "I took your name" and "Circus envy" are really the most "nauseating" pieces of this album that will mark the history of rock as much as Tricarico's "Il drago verdolino" marked pop history: monotonous and dull songs both in structure and in their sexophobic and obsessively "jerking" lyrics.
"Let me in" is one of the few songs that somehow elevates itself from the pile, but not certainly for the musical part as much as for the "felt" participation of verses dedicated by Stipe to the disappearance of Kurt Cobain (Was it true sentiment, or...? we have understood each other by now, right?). "... I had thought of trying to stop you, but instead?" says Michael and there's no doubt about it... To close the album is "You," a song that once again makes us understand how much virtual and non-sex circulates in the sick minds of these artist-men-musicians and how strong this obsession is, especially in the bisexual condition of the leader (author of all the lyrics) who poured all his polemical, desecrating and perhaps slightly frustrated verve into this personal "emotional diary."

An album that is not easy to listen to anymore, 12 years later, and reminiscent of certain ventures into the world of the most paranoid and monochord Neil Young (for instance, that real piece of rock "Greendale!") and especially one that does not make you yearn for the past (and future!) production of the group.
Sex, sex, and more sex, is that what our folks want to tell us? And then what? What's the essence?! As usual: there's none. It's all well and good, whatever you like, but "expressing oneself about sex" is not a valid excuse to publish an album as fairly boring and monolithic as this, which may ALSO be commendable in its intentions but then, in the end, leaves you with that sour taste typical of badly performed 5-minute quickies or those botched hand-tasks done for God-knows-what-reason.

Si u ledar. Your, Lesto.