These days we tend to think of music culture as being almost unreasonably fast-moving. Musicians, however, are generally not as productive as they once were. When R.E.M. were burning through a non-stop cycle of writing, recording, and touring in the 1980s, it was the industry norm. By 1985, the group was midway through the most productive period of its career, and had already released two instant classic albums within the span of 24 months for IRS Records. R.E.M. thrived on this pressure, and critical success seemed only to embolden them, resulting in a series of distinct, increasingly ambitious records that nudged them ever closer to the mainstream without sacrificing their character.
Fables of the Reconstruction, the third release in this astonishing reissue blitz, is the first to show any sign of strain from the band's relentless schedule. It's a great and inspired album, but not quite as consistent as Murmur or Reckoning, or other R.E.M. works to come down the line. Aside from the oddball lead single "Can't Get There From Here", which approximated southern funk via Peter Buck's chiming Rickenbacker chords, Fables is a dark and murky set with a textural palette close to the muted earth tones of its packaging. As the title suggests, it is their most "Southern" album, with a sound that evokes images of railroads, small towns, eccentric locals, oppressive humidity, and a vague sense of time slowing to a crawl. For a bunch of guys who were still new to life on the road, the specificity of setting makes a lot of sense-- it's the homesick pride of people suddenly removed from their usual context.
Michael Stipe's lyrics, at this point just beginning to gel into deliberate themes after a few years of intuitive mumbling, are mainly concerned with imagining the inner lives of outsiders and recluses; men who have traded companionship for a life on their own terms. This fascination can tip into sentimentality-- "Wendell Gee" may be the most syrupy R.E.M. tune-- but the best of these songs bypass mawkishness and stress Stipe's identification with his subjects. "Life and How to Live It", an ecstatic rave-up based upon the life of a schizophrenic man who alternated his time between two sides of his house, showcases Stipe at his most spirited and unhinged.
Musically, Fables is a transitional work. Buck was still working within his jangle-pop style-- "Driver 8" is basically the ultimate archetype of this aesthetic-- but they'd begun to toy around with grander ambitions. "Feeling Gravity's Pull", the album's ominous opener, contrasts a grim, trebly lead guitar part reminiscent of Tom Verlaine with stately, cinematic strings and vivid lyrics detailing Stipe's dreamscape. "Can't Get There From Here" successfully integrates horns and funk grooves, and along with "Maps and Legends" further develops Mike Mills as a foil to Stipe on harmony vocals. Less ambitious cuts like "Green Grow the Rushes" and "Good Advices" are charming in their own right, straightforward in their simple, unfussy beauty. Fables is the end of the line for that particular strain of R.E.M. song-- within a year, these guys would move on to making their own brand of arena rock on Lifes Rich Pageant, never to return to more intimate affairs.
This reissue includes a bonus disc of demos recorded in Athens before heading to London to track the songs with producer Joe Boyd. At this stage in the process, the songs were written but not entirely fleshed out. Though it is nice to hear songs such as "Driver 8" and "Auctioneer (Another Engine)" in a raw state, these demos are mainly a curiosity for hardcore fans. That said, comparing and contrasting the demos with the finished recordings makes an excellent case for Boyd as a producer. Since the band has mentioned in past interviews that the Fables sessions were stressful and difficult, Boyd has received a fair amount of negative criticism for his work on the album. This is unwarranted. The band have worked with better and more simpatico producers in their time, but Boyd did a fine job of finessing and polishing these tunes without getting in the way of the album's peculiar earthy vibe. "Can't Get There From Here" is the most dramatic example of Boyd's positive influence. The demo sounds awkward and confused as Stipe and Mills stumble over one another in the chorus, whereas the finished version runs smoothly, carried along by Buck's exceptionally crisp chords.
In the context of R.E.M.'s career, it's hard not to damn Fables of the Reconstruction with faint praise. It's not an obvious classic, but it certainly doesn't fall into the category of "lesser works." Fables is a fine album that has aged very well, and the simple fact that it is not on par with its two predecessors or further landmark records like Document and Automatic for the People is not a comment on its quality on its own. Ultimately, Fables is best enjoyed as something slightly off the beaten path, with a proudly eccentric style befitting its offbeat subjects.
