Broadcast Me a Joyful Noise

September 15, 2003

Everyone has a First Favorite Band, and for me, it was R.E.M. I would like to say that I’ve been listening to them since Murmur and proclaim my superiority as a long time fan, but my pants would catch fire. The truth is I was in kindergarten when their first record came out, and it wasn’t until “Losing My Religion” that I, along with the entirety of the planet, finally caught on.

More than a decade later, R.E.M. has seen its popularity wane as it tries to carry on without drummer Bill Berry, who left just before the recording of Up. I remain a card carrying member of the R.E.M. fanclub (quite literally, in fact), but I must admit that I approach each new R.E.M. project with a certain sense of trepidation. Releasing a greatest hits compilation and an accompanying tour isn’t the surest way to engender confidence either. Regardless, I bought my slightly overpriced tickets for R.E.M. and Wilco at the Hollywood Bowl and hoped for the best.

I shouldn’t have worried.

The evening started off with Wilco, a band that I never quite “got.” When I listen to their records I hear the tremendous songwriting skills, but I’ve never quite fallen in love like everyone else. I saw them perform at All Tomorrow’s Parties and their show had a staid, rehearsed perfection that turned me off. Taking the stage with little fanfare, Wilco began with a punchy version of “I’m the Man Who Loves You” before settling into a string of ballads, including “Reservations” and a lovely version “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.” The band seemed to have more life than the last time I saw them, and they kept the space-rock noise to a minimum. “Jesus Etc” was helped along by a string quintet, and the 45 minute set closed when Peter Buck and Scott McCaughey joined in to play the Woodie Guthrie/Billy Bragg/Wilco penned “California Stars.”

I’d like to take this opportunity to admonish the wine and cheese crowd at the Hollywood Bowl for having the gall to actually have dinner and matching dinner conversation during Wilco’s performance. Because I got my tickets through the R.E.M. fan club, I had excellent box seats in the very front of the Bowl, mixed in with fellow fan club members and the bourgeoisie. It’s customary to picnic and have dinner in the boxes before the show, but simple manners teach you to be finished by the time performers hit the stage. There were more than a few boxes still eating and drinking and talking during Wilco’s set. If I can hear you speak over the PA system, you’re speaking too loud. Shut up and eat your salad.

R.E.M. took the stage to a roar, and the entire front section stood up from starting gun. By packing the front with fan club members, the band guaranteed themselves a good audience within reach, and avoided the common problem with lackadaisical Los Angeles crowds.

Since this is a “Best of” tour, R.E.M.’s had a pretty wide variety in their setlists. At last count, they’d played 65 different songs on tour, with only a handful being played each and every night. They went to the oldies early, opening with “Begin the Begin” from Lifes Rich Pageant before hitting the more recent “So Fast, So Numb” from New Adventures in Hi-Fi.

The band looked downright peppy, bouncing around with abandon, none more so than Michael Stipe. Long gone is the shy mumbler of the early days and the melodramtic poses of the Green and Monster tours. Instead, Stipe seems mostly himself, comfortable in his own skin at last. While he still has a set of rehearsed moves, his awkward physicality keeps it from looking choreographed and his self-deprecating stage banter is more anecdotal and conversational than ever. Instead of a ringmaster or master showman, he acts more like the concerned host of a party of 15,000 friends. The band itself is more muscular than ever, augmented by Ken Stringfellow (Posies, Big Star), Scott McCaughey (Young Fresh Fellows, Minus 5) and the thunderous drums of Bill Rieflin (Ministry, Nine Inch Nails).

There were three new songs played, the best of which was “Bad Day,” their latest single. Originally a demo cut from Lifes Rich Pageant, it feels appreciably different from modern R.E.M. It’s got a ragged quality to it, with run-on lyrics that mark it as the direct ancestor to “It’s the End of the World As We Know It,” and a couple of amateurish harmonica solos that show just how willing Stipe is to embarass himself in the name of entertainment. It’s always been one of my favorite R.E.M. rarities and I’m glad to see it get a spit and polish and a big time release.

The first big surprise of the setlist came towards the middle, when Mike Mills and Michael Stipe switched microphones. There are only a handful of songs where Mills sings lead, and when Stipe dedicated the number to June Carter Cash, it was sure to be R.E.M.’s faux country hit “Don’t Go Back to Rockville.” The performance contained the incredibly rare instance of Peter Buck singing backup vocals. I couldn’t hear him though, and chances are he was merely lip-syncing. Note: this was before the death of the Man in Black himself. Mike Mills also solemnly dedicated a song to Warren Zevon, with whom Mills, Buck and Bill Berry had recorded Zevon’s Sentimental Hygiene and Hindu Love Gods. The elegant grace of “Find the River” fit the moment well, and I think Zevon would have liked it very much.

The main set closed with the single most bizarre concert moment I’ve ever witnessed. The band played “Man On The Moon” as scheduled until Andy Kaufman’s insult loungesingercomic alter-ego Tony Clifton popped up on stage and started singing along to the chorus. Clifton and Stipe exchanged verses until the bridge, where you could see them jawing at each other. Shortly afterwards, Stipe turned around only to have Clifton splash him with an entire Super Big Gulp, drenching him. Clifton continued singing and having a mini-water fight with the band until Peter Buck unstrapped his Rickenbacker and started swinging it at Clifton. Security came out and tackled the pink tuxedo clad Clifton and reeled him off stage. The “official” story is that Clifton was invited on stage and things got a little out of hand, but with these things, you never really know. Whatever the case, it was hilarious and somewhere Kaufman’s still laughing at us, laughing at him.

The encore set was fairly blah with the exception of “Nightswimming,” which was one the finest live renditions I’ve seen the band do. With only Mills on piano and Stringfellow on synth, Stipe delivered a heartbreaking reading on the nostalgic ballad. The performance highlighted one of R.E.M.’s main strengths as an arena rock band. While they’re fairly good at rousing a large crowd into a singalong, they’ve always been exceptional at making large venues seem intimate and personal. It was the kind of number that reminds me why R.E.M. is one of the greatest bands ever and why I’ll always give them another chance at blowing me away: because they always do.

Wilco Setlist
I’m the Man Who Loves You
Poor Places
Reservations
I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
War on War
Jesus, Etc.
Spiders (kidsmoke)
Kicking Television
Kingpin
I’m Always in Love
Misunderstood
California Stars

R.E.M. Setlist
Begin The Begin
So Fast So Numb
Imitation Of Life
Drive
Animal
Fall On Me
Bad Day
The One I Love
(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville
The Great Beyond
Orange Crush
Daysleeper
Electrolite
Losing My Religion
Find the River
She Just Wants to Be
Walk Unafraid
Man On The Moon