by Jason Policastro
The original iteration of Reckoning emerged from the studio in 1984, and was the band’s attempt to capture its trademark nervous, earnest energy on a record. They were largely successful, and the album was embraced by critics and the band’s fans. The album sprints by if you aren’t careful – there’s no fat here, the compositions are tightly wound and the whole thing feels like an economical live performance.
The new deluxe version captures the polished fearlessness that characterizes the band at its best. Drummer Bill Berry seamlessly propels along, Peter Buck picks his way through intricate arrangements, and Mike Mills mans a solid bass while providing an effective backing vocal for Michael Stipe, who is alternatively cowering and confident, but always captivating on this record. It also becomes apparent how R.E.M.’s rhythm section defined the band’s sound during this time – this band churned a bit harder than its later incarnations – which is perhaps some of the new wave danceability that had yet to wear off.
The record opens with the brighter songs on its track listing - “Harborcoat” is a snapshot of the band at this moment in their creative history – economical drumming, pleasantly echoing strumming, Stipe and Mills working together with competing vocals sung overtop one another.
“7 Chinese Bros” is a satisfying tune that allows Stipe to pull his signature maneuver – hiding in shakingly murmured verses before breaking out into an airy chorus that allows him to push his voice into more comfortable territory
“So. Central Rain” is a plaintive recollection of regret, starting off brightly before veering into a dark finish with Stipe’s nasal howl providing the pulse as darker notes take over where brighter tones had been. “Pretty Persuasion” spills open with Buck’s ringing Rickenbacker dancing in circles before plunging into the harmonized verse, Stipe and Mills holding each other up. Buck is masterful on this song.
“Time After Time” opens with an almost tribal seductiveness, allowing Stipe to effectively draw your ear into the building power of Buck’s picking. The song rises and falls well, and the repeating chorus isn’t permitted to become monotonous. “Second Guessing” is just plain fantastic vintage R.E.M. at its best, and in my opinion the disc’s highlight. Mills’ backing vocals compliment Stipe wonderfully as his bouncing bass line carries the tune.
“Letter Never Sent” is a vocally carried tune with the guitars taking a backseat to the carefully crafted interplay between Stipe and Mills in the foreground. Definitely a memorable REM tune.
“Camera” slows things down considerably, and is perhaps the only time on Reckoning when the band takes a moment to linger. The song is a reflection on a suicide, and Stipe’s voice holds up to the front-and-center exposure it is given here. He trembles, but on this one it works. “(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville” is a bit of an anomaly featuring a twangy verse sung by Stipe with a trademark vocally arching R.E.M. chorus, this time sung in harmony. The song is an illustration of the band’s willingness to explore and push boundaries on this sophomore album. Echoing accents by Buck’s Rickenbacker are offset by upbeat piano notes that give the song a vague country saloon feel. Closing out the record is “Little America”, and it gets to the point quickly with a rapidly sprinting drum line. The track moves quickly and a bit loosely, at one moment near the halfway even permitting a bit of feedback to resonate before being yanked back into line. Not much else on this album feels out of place.
The accompanying live disc chronicles the July 7, 1984 performance at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago, and makes a wonderful companion to the studio album. It offers the listener the opportunity to hear these songs in the format they were created and perfected, not to mention an audio time capsule to a hard-to-believe 25 years ago. Stipe’s voice wavers at moments, but this isn’t big news to the initiate – he has the sound of a frontman who hasn’t quite grown into the role. His in-between-song chatter is minimal, but what’s there is charmingly immature, and the crowd is responsive. The band’s musicianship is sharp, and Berry’s drumming is stellar.
The Reckoning reissue is a look at one of the most important bands of the past quarter-century at a moment of gathering momentum, wrangling with its folk rock roots, a driving backbeat, and the experimental leanings of its enigmatic front man all at the same time.