Ten years without Bill

R.E.M.'s last group shot, Oct. 30, 1997. (l-r) Michael Stipe, Bill Berry, Peter Buck, Mike Mills

STIPIMM: “Die Hard, by Guyz Nite

My friend Justin and I used to have this joke about the band R.E.M. Our flight of fancy was that Bill Berry, the band’s drummer, was the group’s weak link, and that all the other members of the band – Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, and Mike Mills – wanted to get rid of him. But they never could get up the courage to do kick him out, so they would just find ways to make him so miserable that he would quit the band on his own.

Little did we know. Ten years ago today, they got their fictional(?) wish. On Oct. 30, 1997, the Associated Press and MTV reported that Bill Berry was leaving R.E.M. Not because he was angry at all the wet willies that Michael Stipe had been giving him, but because he was tired of the rock-star life and wanted to live a quieter life.

The news rang out like a shot amongst the scattered morass of R.E.M. fans. For most popular music fans, the news was not particularly earth-shattering; the band said they would stay together, so they probably are just going to find someone else to drum, right? But hardcore fans knew better. For years, all four members of the band had sworn up and down that if any one of them died or decided to leave, then R.E.M. would disband. Despite the remaining three’s insistence that they would soldier on together, the devotees feared that the band would get into the studio or on the road, realize they couldn’t continue without Bill, and end it.

Well, that fear proved to be unfounded. But even with the band ostensibly intact, the past 10 years have shown that the band fundamentally changed that day in Athens, Ga.

Strange to think that though. After all, a drummer is just a drummer, right? Ringo was great and all, but still, if he had left the Beatles in 1966, are we really to think that he was such an element in the songwriting that the albums would have been fundamentally different? Okay, John would have had to sing “A Little Help from My Friends,” but still…

In fact, unlike the Beatles, R.E.M.’s songs (pre-1997) are all credited to Berry/Buck/Mills/Stipe in recognition of the sizable contributions of each of the four members of the band to the songwriting. That could have been just feel-good equality on the part of the band, but there was never any reason to doubt it.

Indeed, there was plenty of evidence to suggest that Berry, more than just being a drummer, was a vital part of the band’s direction. One telling quote (that fueled Justin’s and my theories about his place in the band) was something Berry said after the release of Monster in 1994 (paraphrasing): “After two albums of softer music, I wanted to get back to playing harder stuff. I told the rest of the guys before we made this album, ‘If this one doesn’t rock, I’m quitting the band.’” And indeed, Monster did rock. It was the bastard child of R.E.M. and grunge and relied heavily on good ol’ fashioned distorted guitar. Their next album, New Adventures in Hi-Fi (1996), continued the return-to-rock sound, but showed a hint of return to the softer direction the band had pursued in Out of Time (1991) and Automatic for the People (1992), their most successful albums.

Did the inevitability of the band going soft help Berry decide to leave? Perhaps; we’ll probably never know. But whatever the case, it’s clear that once he left, the band went in a markedly different direction (and not just in the fact that they started printing their lyrics in the album notes…). Their first post-Bill album, Up (1998), was melancholy and slow, pretty much the polar opposite of the hard and angry Monster. The album’s sound, much like the sound of its successor, Reveal (2001), seemed to be somewhere between Automatic for the People and OK Computer (Radiohead’s seminal 1997 album). It’s a sound that hasn’t really caught the popular music imagination. Their latest album, Around the Sun (2005), is a little bit further removed, but along the same lines. It’s probably my favorite of theirs since 1997, and yet, I can’t help but wish they’d pull another Monster out of their hat, going back to roots that are a little bit harder.

As for the band members themselves, they’ve decidedly older versions of their previous selves. Michael Stipe, even if he’s as cool as ever, sometimes seems like he’s approaching “old-guy-in-the-club” status. Mike Mills dyed his hair and has shown that he desperately wants to be Elton John. And Peter Buck’s contributions to the public eye have all appeared to be alcohol-soaked (throwing crockery, anyone?).

And as for Bill Berry? As Stipe once jokingly said, he’s enjoying riding his tractor out on his farm (Berry is also an avid antiques collector, oddly enough). Fans like myself were so glad to see him back playing with the band on a couple of rare occasions in recent years, most notably at R.E.M.’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

R.E.M. is currently working on their next album, which they’re hoping to release this coming spring (or so we’re told). And of course, I’ll be there the day of to get us a copy. But unless their sound has fundamentally altered, I’ll probably be thinking that it would be nice to have that steady rock beat back in the band. I can’t help it: I miss the unibrow.

XXXIII

STIPIMM: The theme from The Naked Gun

It seems I’ve lost whatever small ability I had to tell ages amongst my peers. Yesterday, when speaking to a couple of co-workers, I learned that one of them, who I had assumed was in his late 30s (because of gray hair and the look of his face), was actually my age. And another co-worker, who -- because of his demeanor, knowledge and look – I thought was several years older than me, was in fact quite the opposite; he’s 30.

I’m getting carded less and less 12 years after becoming legal, but I still look considerably younger than my 33 years. It’s both a blessing and a curse, of course. I have the gift of long-lasting youth, but it means that, in the subconscious of many peers and elders, I’m still but a whippersnapper. It was sometimes a social obstacle; it’s hard to get a woman to take you seriously for a date if you look like you’re five years younger than she (even if she knows otherwise). In teaching, it makes it easier to relate to students, but at the same time, it makes it harder to create the important distinction between professor and student. I tell Bridget that sometimes I feel more like a graduate student who happens to be teaching more than I feel like a professor in how I talk to students.

But, truth be told, I’m in no hurry to grow up visually. Looking young has kind of been my thing for the past 10 years or so. It’s a way of lowering expectations and blowing people away when they find out either how talented I am or, more superficially, how old I am. My dad used to say that he was a babyface when he was in his 20s; for him, it changed when he was 30. As he described it, when he was in his 20s, he looked like a teenager, but when he turned 30, he suddenly looked 30. I’ve always assumed that the same fate would befall my boyish looks. But so far, I’ve managed to beat his aging by three years.

Of course, now that I’ve put that informational nugget down in print, I’m sure by my next birthday, I’ll look like I'm in my late 30s. Such is life.