Sunday 1 September 2024

The 500 - #197 - Murmur -R.E.M.

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 



Album: #197
Album Title: Murmur
Artist: R.E.M
Genre: Alt Rock, Jangle Pop
Recorded: Reflection Studios (Charlotte, North Carolina)
Released: April, 1983
My age at release: 17
How familiar was I with it before this week: Somewhat
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #165, moving up 32 spots.
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Perfect Circle
In 1977, American poet Laura Gilpin published The Hocus Pocus Of The Universe, her first anthology of poetry. It earned numerous honours, including the Walt Whitman Award from the American Academy of Poets. The Chicago Review literary magazine described her work as "plain, unselfconscious and elegant with tentative endings that leave the reader feeling that there is more to be said, some conclusion to be drawn or some emotion to be underlined".
I discovered one of Gilpin's best known poems while researching information on Murmur, the 1983 debut album from American indie rock band R.E.M. The Gilpin poem that captured my attention is called The Two-Headed Calf and, as I read it over coffee in my Glasgow hotel room while on a railway tour of Scotland in August, I was overcome by the beauty, tragedy and depth contained in just a few short lines. Gilpin’s economy of language had me misty-eyed and the following elegant lines of verse stuck with me all day:
The Two-Headed Calf 
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.

But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.

                                               Laura Gilpin (1977) 

Gilpin delivers the gut punch right away. This newly born, two-headed calf will meet an undeserved and untimely end at the hands of the farmer in the morning. However, on this "perfect summer evening", "he is alive" and safe in the unconditional love of his mother as he experiences the magnificent beauty of the natural world.
This unusual creature (the odds of a cow being born with two heads – polycephaly -- is about 1 in 400 million) is a metaphor for uniqueness and difference. The reader is prompted to reconcile their acceptance of diversity in our world. The contrast presented by each verse encourages the reader to confront biases they may hold about society's adherence to homogeneity. The two-headed calf serves as a blank slate onto which one can project their own experiences and perspective.
Additionally, one can reflect on the brevity of life. The calf will only live for a single night, but will see "twice as many stars" as the others in that northern orchard field. It is difficult to read this poem without meditating on the impermanence of one’s own existence. Am I appreciating the "perfect summer evenings" or "the wind in the grass" when I am blessed with so many more nights than the calf?
A Google search reveals that many have chosen
tattoo art to celebrate this beautiful poem.
It seems that R.E.M. songwriters, Michael Stipe (vocals), Mike Mills (piano, bass), Bill Berry (drums) and Peter Buck (guitars), were also impacted by Gilpin's poem. It is referenced in the song Pilgrimage on their record Murmur, which contains lyrics about personal redemption and transformation.
R.E.M. (1983) (l-r) Buck, Stipe, Mills and Berry.
Much like Gilpin, R.E.M. made a quiet but significant impact on the world of art with the release of their first full-length record, Murmur in 1983. Formed in Athens, Georgia, in 1980, the quartet took their name from the initialism of the term Rapid Eye Movement – the cycle of sleep in which dreams occur. The group quickly built a loyal following, playing local venues in the college town of Athens and released their first single, Radio Free Europe, in July, 1981.
Album cover for R.E.M. single Radio Free Europe (1981).
Radio Free Europe, which was re-recorded for the debut record, Murmur, features the kind of lyrics that became a trademark for the group. Much like the poetry of Gilpin, their words have a simplistic beauty to them, providing a canvas on which the listener can overlay their own meaning, perspective and experience. Without a doubt, that is what I love most about the band, allowing the words to wash over me. Many songs have become intricately and beautifully tied to specific moments in my life -- some glorious and others painful. I could write dozens of blogs about my connections to R.E.M. songs including Daysleeper, Night Swimming, Losing My Religion, So Central Rain, Perfect Circle, The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight, Oddfellows Local 151, Half A World Away, and Man On The Moon.
Tracklist for Murmur by R.E.M.
Despite critical acclaim (Rolling Stone Magazine proclaimed Murmur the best album of 1983) the album sold an underwhelming 200,000 copies in its first year. Even so, the band’s popularity continued to grow throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, symbolized by the vegetation depicted on the album’s jacket – in reality an invasive species of Japanese Arrowroot called Kudzu that also dominated the Georgian landscape in the early ‘80s. 
Kudzu overtaking trees in Georgia.
It so happened, I intentionally celebrated my 49th birthday on a rooftop patio in Athens by taking time out from a road trip to Florida to visit Disney World and Universal Studios with my niece and nephew (who had flown ahead). Mine was a pilgrimage to the home of R.E.M. and ‘70s new wave band, The B-52s, of which I was also a fan. Listening with my wife to tracks from both bands, we weaved our way south through the Nantahala National Forest that July afternoon. We arrived around 4 o’clock after a 14-hour overnight drive and I flopped on the Holiday Inn bed for a quick, battery recharging, nap.
A shot I took of the Athens night sky from a rooftop patio - July 11, 2014.
Darkness brought one of those perfect nights always to be remembered -- eating tacos with my wife, sipping a cold beer, marveling at the Athens skyline..."the moon rising over the city, the wind in the trees...and maybe, just maybe, twice as many stars as usual".



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