R.E.M., Fela Kuti, and when you start to really miss a band

REM - Document

I miss R.E.M. I admire that they ended things on their own terms, and I think they have a lot of integrity for basically leaving it at that. There are probably those who’d argue that they went on longer than they should have, though I’m not necessarily one of them. (I get the argument that without Bill Berry, it’s not necessarily the same band, but man, so many of my favorite bands ended up being just one original member by the end.) Even at the end though, they were firing on all cylinders—the Live at the Olympia album features recordings from their “warmup” shows for the Accelerate album, and those recordings absolutely rip. It’s mostly deep cuts, lots of them from early in their career, and they sound amazing, the kind of live album that makes you really wish you were there.

I also was lucky enough to see them live. In the scheme of things, it probably wasn’t a top tier environment to see them; I caught them at Street Scene 2003 in San Diego, on their Greatest Hits tour. If you’re not from San Diego and Street Scene sounds vaguely familiar, it got some national attention for being the site where Fergie peed herself during a Black Eyed Peas show; it was basically our summer festival, and it gradually got to the point where it brought a lot of big names but their eyes were bigger than their stomach and they went bankrupt. (I was at the last one too, in 2009, where several bands complained about not getting paid… awkward!) 

But anyway, R.E.M. Their set, being as this was a Hits show, was loaded with Hits! I think for most this would be a dream set. After all, they played “What’s the Frequency Kenneth?” and “Losing My Religion” and “Orange Crush” and “Everybody Hurts” and so on and so forth. Frankly I would have loved to hear something from Reckoning, though they did play “Driver 8” and “I Believe”—a handful of I.R.S. era gems. They also played “Drive,” which is my favorite song on Automatic for the People. (Everyone says “Nightswimming” which they also played, but I prefer the bombastic opener.) 

But you know what else they played? Four songs from Document. This is the album I first heard from R.E.M. way back when I was just being introduced to rock music from my siblings, and “The One I Love” and “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” were making the band into household-ish names. And yeah, they played those. Apparently the latter with Eddie Vedder? I might have left by then. But they also opened with “Finest Worksong,” which is exactly how you open a damn record—a heavy crack of drums, guitar riff sliding to live, bass descending into place, like you can see them build the song and then it just snaps in. Just incredible.

Document is not the best R.E.M. album, though it’s definitely in the top half and probably top five? It’s a prime example of a record that doesn’t immediately tell you what it’s about—titling it “Document” is as oblique as it gets, and the cover collage is just as abstract (which was a pattern for them by then). Though much of the album is critical of American culture and politics, including that old chestnut the love song on “The One I Love,” often misinterpreted, though they pulled off the Neil Young homage brilliantly. (Which The Decemberists then borrowed years later, but hey, they got Gillian Welch to sing on the track.) They also tackle the McCarthy era in American politics, a pretty shameful chapter (which, you know, we’re going through another one right now!) that they turn into pretty catchy jangle-pop fodder on “Exhuming McCarthy.” And you know what? They played that one too, despite the fact that it was not a hit, nor even a single. But it was the George W. Bush administration we were in at the time, so maybe that had something to do with it. 

I can’t say listening to this album brings out nostalgia, necessarily—I don’t need the good old days to return. But I wouldn’t mind hearing them play “Finest Worksong” again. Rating: 9.3

Listen: “Finest Worksong”

Fela Kuti - Coffin for Head of State

Fela Kuti has a lot of albums. How many you ask? A staggering 45. And most of them were released between 1971 and 1981. During certain years he’d release four or five per year, which is just an unbelievable output. On the one hand, most of those albums comprise just one or two tracks, but on the other, those tracks are often quite long and feature complex arrangements with a lot of musicians. Afrobeat is a pretty high effort genre.

The thing about having a catalog of 45 studio albums is that the sheer volume makes it difficult for some of them to stand out. None of them are bad, but some of them are a pretty good, extended hypnotic groove rather than a superlative one. But Coffin for Head of State? It stands out.

One of Kuti’s best and most powerful albums, it was born from personal tragedy. After Kuti released Zombie, criticizing the military-led Nigerian government, they stormed his home, the Kalakuta living/recording compound, and in the process killed his mother. So in response, he made “Coffin for Head of State,” which itself was a response to that act, but also was accompanied by a stunt in which Kuti delivered an empty coffin to the country’s leader at the time. Bold, ballsy, and poignant. (I wrote in more detail about the album, btw.)

This is another one of those Kuti records that’s just one extended track, split over two sides into Instrumental and Vocal, and it still grooves but it’s more mournful, more somber, an elegiac prayer of a song that features a repeated refrain of “Amen, Amen, Amen.” The way Kuti and his band, the Africa 70, combine these seemingly disparate elements is both masterful and mystifying. A singular piece of music.

When I bought this at Plan 9, because of the volume Kuti’s output and the fact that I already had seven of the best of them, I thought I was probably good for a while. Now, four years later, I’ve picked up two more and have several more on my wantlist. You’re never done with Fela. Rating: 9.5

Listen: “Coffin for Head of State”

Girls Against Boys - House of GVSB

Sometimes I have to remind myself of the formative documents in my musical education that have fallen by the wayside. Like, for instance, the soundtrack to the movie Clerks. It surprises me to be saying this in the year of our lord 2025, because I don’t particularly like Kevin Smith’s movies, and this isn’t really any exception. That didn’t really matter at the time; as a 13-year-old kid I just saw this as a cool compilation of bands I liked (Alice in Chains, Bad Religion, Stabbing Westward) and bands I thought I would like (The Jesus Lizard, Girls Against Boys). Looking back, there’s a lot of weird stuff here, like two songs by a band called Love Among Freaks that sound nothing alike and I assume were friends with Smith or someone connected to the movie? Plus the goofy Supernova song “Chewbacca,” which is a scuzzy rock song with someone making Chewbacca grunts. (Side note: I’ve reached my quota on people talking about Star Wars in pop cultural products.)

But Girls Against Boys was probably the biggest takeaway for me here. The Jesus Lizard, too, certainly, but GvsB was a personal revelation to me that felt more personal than Jesus Lizard was. After all, everyone loves Goat, but I’m not sure enough people have even heard House of GVSB (and some of those that I know who have don’t particularly like it—I’ve gotten used to that happening, but look, you can’t always win over people to obscure, abrasive ‘90s rock). Their song on Clerks was called “Kill the Sexplayer,” a bit of two-bass-player nonsense sleaze that sounded a little more like Morphine if they were more punk. This record, which came out a couple years later, feels darker in a lot of ways, leaning heavier on the Cure and Joy Division influences, which is fitting—a year earlier they covered “She’s Lost Control” for a tribute album, which itself had an interesting if all-over-the-place lineup: Low, Face to Face, Moby, Tortoise, Codeine, and a few bands that seem to have never released an album of their own.

House of GVSB is, for my money (and I think consensus-wise), the best Girls Against Boys album. It’s the one with the most diverse range of sounds but leans into their signature aesthetic. On their next album they kinda went industrial rock and it didn’t go over that well (I have a soft spot for it, but it definitely shows its age), but here it’s all lean, sexy and dark post-punk and post-hardcore. A lot of what they do is rhythmic and textural rather than overtly melodic and that always kind of fascinated me, though they throw their hooks around on songs like “Super-Fire,” “Crash 17 (X-Rated Car)”, “Wilmington” and “Disco Six Six Six.” This reissue, for its 25th anniversary, features a bonus LP with b-sides and covers and other outtakes, including tracks from the Disco 666 EP, which I forgot I even had way back when. A treasure trove for a certain kind of listener (me). 

I saw them live back in 1998, opening for Garbage, and I’d be lying if I said they weren’t one of the reasons I wanted to go to the show, though obviously Garbage put on a much bigger show, if that makes sense. (It was in a basketball arena at UCSD so this kind of thing matters.) But they still held their own despite being an indie band in a massive room. That they never got bigger doesn’t necessarily surprise me—they were victims of a major label feeding frenzy that got out of hand. But still, I 100 percent understood why they were interested in the first place. Rating: 9.2

Listen: “Crash 17 (X-Rated Car)”

Repulsion - Horrified

I’ve mentioned before, at least I think I have, that listening to grindcore is about the experience of being annihilated by short bursts of noise and volume than of the actual songcraft. I’m not saying that grindcore bands can’t or don’t write great songs—Pig Destroyer is a great example here. But the rawer the grindcore, the more you just kind of want an explosion of sound.

Repulsion are that kind of band, and one of the early pioneers of grindcore along with Napalm Death, Extreme Noise Terror, etc. Repulsion feel more punk rock in that regard, their sound more raw than sharpened to its most deadly. These are dirty bombs rather than razor-sharp implements. And as such, highlighting individual songs is probably pointless, but this record rules, especially if you like one-minute songs that are as nasty and belligerent as they come. It’s also the only record they ever released, so this isn’t only the only Repulsion record you need, it’s the only one you’ll ever find. But it’s a wildly influential album, and quite a few bands took their names from Repulsion songs (Acid Bath, Black Breath, etc.).

I bought this with the next two records, all of them death metal-ish, at a shop in Salem, Mass. that had a diverse selection but seemed to specialize in metal. Felt like the right thing to do at the time. Still does. Rating: 9.1

Listen: “Black Breath”

Death - Leprosy

Even more death metal! To a certain heavy metal listener, Death represents the pinnacle of death metal. I mean, they probably should, right, given that their name is Death? But they were also one of the first death metal bands to release a proper LP (1987’s Scream Bloody Gore) and as such were pioneers of the sound. Not to mention they were just really fucking good at it. But their leader, Chuck Schuldiner, died young of cancer, and so for all he and the group achieved, it also cut short their and his legacy. 

Nonetheless, they released a lot of great music in a decade’s time. My personal favorite Death album is 1995’s Symbolic, which is about as strong as death metal gets. It’s melodic yet technical, catchy yet it rips. It does absolutely everything right. But I don’t actually have a vinyl copy because it’s been out of print for a while and copies go for a lot. (It’s now getting a 30-year anniversary reissue, so I guess that’s about to change!)

But my second favorite is Leprosy. Most fans would probably point to something like Human, which marked the point at which they transformed from gore-slinging glopmongers into a more technically minded band. And I don’t dispute that they absolutely did become a better band. But look, Leprosy rules. It just does. You heard this thing? All riffs and mayhem. Just total bedlam and awesomeness all around. If you’re going to have someone listen to death metal for the first time, Leprosy is absolutely the kind of album you want to have them listen to, because it’s murky enough to be representative of the whole, but melodic enough not to be a hindrance to their enjoyment. I sometimes forget that, but when I put this on in order to shake loose the rust in my memory, I was reminded just how hard this record goes, and how much fun it is to listen to. So here’s my recommendation to those death-metal curious: Listen to this record. And those who know this record but haven’t heard it in a while? Play it again! Rating: 9.2

Listen: “Leprosy”

Carcass - Symphonies of Sickness

This feels like the middle of the triptych between Repulsion and Death. Carcass, the UK-based death metal band known for fun-as-hell live shows, absurdly titled songs and albums, and a kind of surgical theme (of sorts) so to speak, only got better with each release. In their post-hiatus reunion era, they’re more or less riding the highs they hit with 1991’s Necroticism, with more hooks thrown in for good measure. But they’re still putting out great records, however infrequently. 

Symphonies of Sickness, however, is the turning point between when they were a rowdier grindcore band and more of a polished death metal band. This is more raw and lo-fi, their production less sharpened. But the songs are definitely crafted to be more death metal than grindcore. It feels akin to some of those gnarlier early ‘90s death metal records from the likes of Autopsy or Bolt Thrower, where the point isn’t to hear the sharp edges of every riff. And I kinda love that. Raw, messy death metal is more fun than overly technical stuff. I’m not saying it’s better, just more fun. But Carcass is more fun than most metal bands as it is, so it’s a win-win all around. Rating: 9.0

Listen: “Exhume to Consume”

Helms Alee - Keep This Be the Way

Helms Alee is underrated. I can probably say that of most bands I like. (Big Brave? Underrated! Cloakroom? Underrated! Bruce Springsteen? OK, I’m getting carried away now…) But Helms Alee is a band that’s always spoken to my specific tastes that maybe doesn’t really work for everyone. What I mean by that is that they’re sort of a metal band and sort of a post-hardcore band, and kind of a few other things. But people tend to like their metal to be metal, their punk to be punk, and so on and so forth. I get that! I feel that way, too, sometimes. (Look, I’m not saying it was a bad record, but the Deafheaven shoegaze album kind of just made me want to hear more of their metal stuff.) 

But Helms Alee have always kind of followed their own muse, which is what makes them one of the more interesting heavy bands from the past couple decades. Keep This Be the Way, which as of this writing is their most recent album, covers a lot more ground and strays from any kind of traditionally defined metal sound more often than not. There are heavy songs here, like “Mouth Thinker,” and they rip. But they really take the listener down some blind alleys and play with unconventional sounds a lot more, and I find this all the more rewarding as a result. 

“See Sights, Smell Smells” is as strong an album opener as they’ve ever featured, all driving tension and no explosive payoff. I kind of love that it just kind of builds and builds and stays in that mildly uncomfortable state of “Is it gonna go off?” It doesn’t, but that sinister, simmering tension is all the better as a result. They deliver an ambient pop track with vibraphone on the title track. Oh and they cover Scott Walker. And not the cacophonous, scary Scott Walker from late in his life, but “Big Louise,” from Scott 3. Baller move. That alone would have won me over, but it’s part of a larger ecosystem of unconventional and experimental moves on their part that show why they’re one of the most interesting bands in heavy music. Rating: 9.0

Listen: “See Sights Smell Smells”

Astrud Gilberto/Walter Wanderley - A Certain Smile

One of the first records that ever made it into my vinyl collection—or perhaps better put, one of the records that started my collection—was one I pilfered from my folks long after they stopped listening to records. (This was in 2000, everyone listened to CDs and the 21st century vinyl boom was still probably a decade-ish away.) That record, Astrud Gilberto’s The Shadow of Your Smile, was of particular interest to me at the time, because for a variety of reasons I was getting into bossa nova and Brazilian music in general, which sort of happened through bands like Stereolab, which introduced me to Jobim and so on and so forth. Later on a friend of mine would show me Os Mutantes, and well, that ball just kept on rolling. As I type this, I’m actually listening to Luiz Bonfa.

Years later I’d happen to hear this collaboration between Gilberto and organist Walter Wanderley, whose other records are a bit campier, right down to the cover art. But the combination of the two is just fantastic, and by making Gilberto’s sound “electric,” it actually ends up sounding closer to Stereolab in the ‘90s, interestingly enough. No jungle beats or anything, but the addition of electric organ to songs like “Tristeza” and “So Nice” give them added dimension. It’s midcentury cool as an album. Rating: 9.1

Listen: “Tristeza”