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Upon Further Review : The 'Mats Reissues
THE PITCH
I'll start with a confession. Until last week, I didn't own any of the pre-Don't Tell A Soul Replacements records on CD. Might not seem like a big deal, but for a music geek, it's an offense as akin to introducing Yoko to John. For a music geek living in the Twin Cities, well, it's pert near unforgivable. Truth told, I didn't think I needed these records, because I felt like I lived them. In college, the first four 'Mats records were like the writings of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John to my bleary-eyed compatriots. We listened to these records until even the random studio chatter became part of our lexicon. Then we compulsively sought out bootlegs, rarities (anyone out there have a copy of The Shit Hits The Fans?) and B-sides, gladly ignoring lethal levels of tape hiss to prove our undying devotion to our heroes. It wouldn't be an understatement to call these records the soundtrack of my college days, and yet, once they handed over that sheepskin, I left them behind, along with a bad haircut and marathon games of Kings.
In case you missed the 80s, The Replacements broke a foot off in the ass of the collective music industry. Critical darlings with a fiercely devoted fanbase, they never quite managed to break out of the underground. Their records, were sloppy, radio-unfriendly affairs. To make matters worse (or better), songs with commercial potential were often sabotaged with thorny arrangements (witness the coda of the otherwise popsure Kiss Me On The Bus) that seemed designed specifically to scare off music directors. Cocky and confrontational, their legendary live shows were fueled by the band's taste for booze and drugs, a taste that was largely shared by their fans. Everyone who followed the band has at least one story that is bookended with booze and vomit, and contains a trip to jail or the emergency room. And at a time when MTV was the best way to break a band, they staunchly refused to make videos until their window of opportunity had, for all intents and purposes, slammed shut on Paul Westerberg's nicotine-stained fingers.
24 years after the release of the lauded Let It Be, the good folks at Rhino have rolled out reissues of the band's first four records: Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out The Trash, Stink, Hootenanny and of course, Let It Be. I was very apprehensive about these reissues, for the same reason you should never get back together with a college sweetheart. Time has an annoying habit of coloring our memories, softening the focus on suffering and washing everything in the rosy hues of nostalgia. Believe it or not, for better or worse, we change. I avoided these records largely because I assumed they couldn't be nearly as wonderful as I remembered. I'm happy to report I was wrong.
THE PRODUCT
These reissues come as a shock to many, largely because it had been rumored for years that Westerberg and bassist Tommy Stinson (now of Guns n' Roses) had, at some point, broken into their old record company, liberated the masters and cleverly hid them at the bottom of the mighty Mississippi. As you might expect, Rhino does it up right; these reissues have been lovingly remastered and each contains an essay by one of four critics. More importantly, this may be your last best opportunity to lay your hands on 27(!) covers, demos and alternate takes.
DO I NEED IT?
I don't feel the need to contribute to the buckets of critical ink that have already been spilled in the name of the 'Mats, suffice to say, the quality of their output could be spotty. For every moment of transcendence (Unsatisfied), there is a moment of pure folly (Hootenanny). Hearing an alternate vocal take of Lovelines is interesting, hearing Westerberg's home boombox demo of You're Getting Married for the first time is enlightening. If you just dipping you foot into the 'Mats, certainly, start with Let It Be. The influence of this little (33 minutes) record is now such that it is no longer blasphemy to mention in the same breath with Velvet Underground and Nico, London Calling or Born To Run. The original has been bolstered by six additional tracks, including takes on T. Rex's 20th Century Boy and The DeFranco Family's Heartbeat-It's a Lovebeat. After that, you're on your own, but each has its charms. The remastered Sorry Ma... offers a whopping 13 bonus tracks, including the outstanding B-side, If Only You Were Lonely. The hardcore-leaning Stink is augmented with the aforementioned You're Getting Married, as well as a run at (We're Gonna) Rock Around The Clock guaranteed to leave the Fonz in traction. Finally, Hootenanny brings to the table yet another boombox home demo, the recently unearthed Bad Worker. Let your taste decide. If you need me, I'll be writing letters to Rhino demanding a reissue of Tim.
The Replacements - I'm In Trouble
--------------------------------------------------------I'll start with a confession. Until last week, I didn't own any of the pre-Don't Tell A Soul Replacements records on CD. Might not seem like a big deal, but for a music geek, it's an offense as akin to introducing Yoko to John. For a music geek living in the Twin Cities, well, it's pert near unforgivable. Truth told, I didn't think I needed these records, because I felt like I lived them. In college, the first four 'Mats records were like the writings of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John to my bleary-eyed compatriots. We listened to these records until even the random studio chatter became part of our lexicon. Then we compulsively sought out bootlegs, rarities (anyone out there have a copy of The Shit Hits The Fans?) and B-sides, gladly ignoring lethal levels of tape hiss to prove our undying devotion to our heroes. It wouldn't be an understatement to call these records the soundtrack of my college days, and yet, once they handed over that sheepskin, I left them behind, along with a bad haircut and marathon games of Kings.
In case you missed the 80s, The Replacements broke a foot off in the ass of the collective music industry. Critical darlings with a fiercely devoted fanbase, they never quite managed to break out of the underground. Their records, were sloppy, radio-unfriendly affairs. To make matters worse (or better), songs with commercial potential were often sabotaged with thorny arrangements (witness the coda of the otherwise popsure Kiss Me On The Bus) that seemed designed specifically to scare off music directors. Cocky and confrontational, their legendary live shows were fueled by the band's taste for booze and drugs, a taste that was largely shared by their fans. Everyone who followed the band has at least one story that is bookended with booze and vomit, and contains a trip to jail or the emergency room. And at a time when MTV was the best way to break a band, they staunchly refused to make videos until their window of opportunity had, for all intents and purposes, slammed shut on Paul Westerberg's nicotine-stained fingers.
24 years after the release of the lauded Let It Be, the good folks at Rhino have rolled out reissues of the band's first four records: Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out The Trash, Stink, Hootenanny and of course, Let It Be. I was very apprehensive about these reissues, for the same reason you should never get back together with a college sweetheart. Time has an annoying habit of coloring our memories, softening the focus on suffering and washing everything in the rosy hues of nostalgia. Believe it or not, for better or worse, we change. I avoided these records largely because I assumed they couldn't be nearly as wonderful as I remembered. I'm happy to report I was wrong.
THE PRODUCT
These reissues come as a shock to many, largely because it had been rumored for years that Westerberg and bassist Tommy Stinson (now of Guns n' Roses) had, at some point, broken into their old record company, liberated the masters and cleverly hid them at the bottom of the mighty Mississippi. As you might expect, Rhino does it up right; these reissues have been lovingly remastered and each contains an essay by one of four critics. More importantly, this may be your last best opportunity to lay your hands on 27(!) covers, demos and alternate takes.
DO I NEED IT?
I don't feel the need to contribute to the buckets of critical ink that have already been spilled in the name of the 'Mats, suffice to say, the quality of their output could be spotty. For every moment of transcendence (Unsatisfied), there is a moment of pure folly (Hootenanny). Hearing an alternate vocal take of Lovelines is interesting, hearing Westerberg's home boombox demo of You're Getting Married for the first time is enlightening. If you just dipping you foot into the 'Mats, certainly, start with Let It Be. The influence of this little (33 minutes) record is now such that it is no longer blasphemy to mention in the same breath with Velvet Underground and Nico, London Calling or Born To Run. The original has been bolstered by six additional tracks, including takes on T. Rex's 20th Century Boy and The DeFranco Family's Heartbeat-It's a Lovebeat. After that, you're on your own, but each has its charms. The remastered Sorry Ma... offers a whopping 13 bonus tracks, including the outstanding B-side, If Only You Were Lonely. The hardcore-leaning Stink is augmented with the aforementioned You're Getting Married, as well as a run at (We're Gonna) Rock Around The Clock guaranteed to leave the Fonz in traction. Finally, Hootenanny brings to the table yet another boombox home demo, the recently unearthed Bad Worker. Let your taste decide. If you need me, I'll be writing letters to Rhino demanding a reissue of Tim.
The Replacements - I'm In Trouble
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posted by Luftmensch @ 8:15 AM
2 Talk back to yo' mama!
2 Talk back to yo' mama!:
love, love, love them...thanks
Dodge--the best thing in the world is that Rhino announced they will be releasing all four of the Sire records (Don't Tell A Soul, All Shook Down, and yeah yeah--TIM!) later this fall. This is part of their comprehensive rollout. Step one of MATS NATION!
The first Mats record I ever listened to was Tim, on cassette, and I didn't quite wear it out, because I bought the cd just in time. I came late to the early records, and ended up just as frustrated as enlightened. Of the new series, I'll buy all of them, already bought the only two I could find--Stink and Hootenanny. Haven't opened Hootenanny yet because I haven't felt like monkeyeing with it.
I think you should get 'em. Hallmark of your youth and all that. Plus, there's the satisfaction of having them all on your shelf, like you talked about with the Clash and the VU--line up all eight records on the shelf, fat with b-sides, and that's a canon.
(As an aside--in Jim Walsh's All Over But the Shouting he confirms that they shure as hell stole something that day from Twin/Tone--but I think Tommy says "we probably only threw out, you know, a bunch of solo or acoustic versions of I Will Dare" or something like that. At which point you start freaking out!)
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