Album Review: REM - Green (Deluxe Edition)

Strange days indeed, when one of 1989's contenders for 'biggest band in the world' could be signed for around $10m, top the charts and somehow still be called 'alternative'. But this was REM, who'd never really gone about things in accepted fashion. Green was actually their sixth album, yet through loyalty/naïvety/principles they'd only just left their original indie home of IRS Records to join the major Warner conglomerate.

Then – as if to be deliberately obtuse – Michael Stipe informed the band to “not write typical REM songs” for the new record. Coming off the back of their first true mainstream-breaking single, The One I Love – the just-about-blueprint of what people would expect of them – things got a bit scattergun in style and intent, but somehow worked. Comfortable with Scott Litt – producer through their whole '90s heyday – and the label surprisingly letting them retain creative control, risks came off.

Take Green's first single: Orange Crush – a dense, almost menacing song dealing with the Vietnam War and its aftermaths. Follow that with the almost bubblegum community singalong of Stand, which on closer inspection actually dealt with coping with change, very much as they themselves actually were. Elsewhere it got harder, like the tougher Turn You Inside-Out, and conversely more reflective and acoustic, with Peter Buck often playing his new toy – a European mandolin which would later become another REM trademark sound.

The extra disc here documents one of their live peaks, from the 11 months they spent touring the album and becoming a truly world-class attraction. After all that, they unsurprisingly gave themselves a year off to recover.