Warner Bros., 2008

There’s a current joke that goes: “Do you remember when MTV played good music? Yeah, me neither.” Now MTV doesn’t even play music (except for a short span in the wee hours of morning), but this unfunny quip always reminds me of R.E.M. Were you even alive the last time they made good music?

The last three albums of R.E.M.’s discography have been so adult pop orientated that they’ve practically worn away their fan base, but Accelerate marks a nice departure back to the times when Stipe, Buck, and Mills were making propulsive, jangly rock that could satisfy college radio, and small-sized venues.

For the first time in a long time, Accelerate should remind listeners of R.E.M.’s greatest achievements (Murmur and Reckoning come to mind), even if the album isn’t quite up to those standards. The first single “Supernatural Superserious” is certainly a standout with its opening riffs and Stipe’s distinctive timbre hovering overtop. The song itself seems to be about the cynical aspects of being a teenager or perhaps the enlightenment that comes years after the experience of being a teenager. With Stipe, nothing is ever clear, unless he tells you, and even then…

Other standouts include the hazy melody found in the overtly political “Mr. Richards”; the unusual Blade Runner reference (“Tyrell and his mechanical owl”) in “Sing for the Submarine” can only make one think of a dystopian future in which corporations wield all the power; and the ambiguous propulsion of the title track “Accelerate”.

So R.E.M. are finally off the hook. They’ve made their best album in years and all it took was a return to form. It’s a lesson every performers learns sooner or later: feel free to experiment in any direction, but a step back every now and then does wonders for your reputation.

Sub Pop, 2007

I have this friend, and for anonymity’s sake, let’s call him Tim. What seems like eons ago, Tim had been very vocal about how much he anticipating the new Iron & Wine album, and when it leaked months before its September 25 release date, he told me all about it; how much he loved it. In fact, I believe some of his words were, “You gotta here that new Iron & Wine, that shit is crazy!” Tim has a way with words.

Sam Beam’s (aka Iron & Wine’s) first couple of albums were breezy southern post-folk songs that were as beautiful as they were understated. Yet, on his 2005 EP Woman King, something changed. Beam’s sound became tempered with heavy rhythm, and with The Shepherd’s Dog, it has even incorporated a pseudo-60’s psychedelic edge.

The first single, “Boy with a Coin”, is all jaunty hand claps and guitar melody, and is only rivaled by 2005’s “Woman King” in terms of shear enjoyment. It’s so good, that you’ll want to start dancing when you hear it. Don’t. This will lead to much embarrassment. Trust me on this one. Elsewhere on The Shepherd’s Dog, “Flightless Bird, American Mouth”, and “Resurrection Fern” are most like Beam’s earliest works with their plucked strings, and whispered promises. “Lovesong of the Buzzard” with its deep bass, and pitter-patter drums could be used in a Disney film (sans the lyrics, of course). Meanwhile, “House by the Sea” opens in dreamlike monotony before morphing to toe-tapping splendor.

I ran into Tim a few weeks after the 25th of September and he asked me what I thought of The Shepherd’s Dog. I felt it was a very good listen, but probably not as good as Tim did, and I really didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I turned my head away for a second, looked down at the ground, and then said with a slow smile, “that shit is crazy!” He replied, “Indeed.” Tim has a way with words.

Polyvinyl Records, 2007

Of Montreal certainly have a heralded legacy to follow. Not necessarily there own, but that of the Elephant 6 collective: the famed group of musicians from Athens, Georgia. With modern classics like In The Aeroplane Over The Sea from Neutral Milk Hotel and Dusk At Cubist Castle from Olivia Tremor Control, Elephant 6 is an impressive outfit. Luckily for Of Montreal they have created an album worthy of mention along side such lo-fi wonders.

On Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, the five-piece rarely misses the mark. Sure, the centerpiece, “The Past Is A Grotesque Animal” is a bit too long and “Sink The Siene” is nothing but a tease. All that aside, this album holds up in ways that few others could.

Opener, “Suffer For Fashion” begins with a newborn’s first words before launching into a sonic bloom of the catchiest pop radio will never play. “A Sentence Of Sorts In Kongsvinger’s” could be played in baby cribs. “Cato As A Pun” features buzzy synths and sharper hooks, while “Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse” is a simple plea for Kevin Barnes’ brain chemistry to correct itself.

With all that being said, the supreme highlight of the album, “Gronlandic Edit” has a groovy beat and some of the best lines you’ll hear anywhere: “Physics makes us all it’s bitches”, “I guess it would be nice to give my heart to a god, but which one do I choose?” “I guess it would be nice to help in your escape, from patterns your parents designed.”

With Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? Of Montreal have crafted a messy collage of the best kind: one overflowing with melodic ideas and proper execution. It’s the kind of album that almost takes you completely out of your forerunner’s towering shadows. Almost.