Post by headlightbeams on Sept 8, 2006 1:34:32 GMT -5
The Rice Thresher, the student newspaper at Rice University, has just published what may be the longest and last newspaper review of "Don't You Know Who I Think I Was?":
Remember the Replacements
By Burton Dewitt | For the Thresher
Maybe it was just fate that the last true rock and roll band was not anthologized until 15 years after its demise, giving a new generation of music fans a chance to acquaint themselves with mid-1980s indie glory. Or maybe it just took 15 years for fans to fully appreciate a void that can no longer be replaced. Either way, Don’t You Know Who I Think I Was finally spans the pre- and post-major label recordings of the Replacements. And for a band so original, a band that did everything wrong and still claimed authorship of some of the best rock music ever recorded — a band that dominated 1980s college radio alongside R.E.M. and Husker Due — the recording industry’s previous oversight was a damned shame.
The Band
In 1979, Paul Westerberg strapped on a guitar and started singing. Bob Stinson joined him on guitar, and Bob’s little brother Tommy — then only 12 — picked up a bass. Chris Mars chimed in on drums. Preferring to have a good time rather than actually being good, the band is famous for holding drunken or high rehearsals. They went through multiple appellations before settling on the Replacements, and the band acquired the nickname “The ‘Mats” as a result of accidentally being referred to as “The Placemats.”
When the Replacements performed, they were often belligerently drunk and purposely put on lousy shows. Early in the band’s career, Westerberg and company performed as The Impediments and were blacklisted after their first gig for raucous behavior. The band’s christening as The Replacements only occurred so they could trick club owners into letting them play again.
Even after the ‘Mats made a name for themselves among recording executives — although, admittedly, it was often hard to keep track of what that name was — they still seemed self-destructive on stage. When opening for R.E.M. in 1983, they almost got kicked off the tour for performing drunken covers in lieu of their critically acclaimed original material. However, they persevered in offstage brilliance as well as onstage floppery, and the Replacements released Let It Be in 1984 — an album so innovative that Sire Records signed them despite countless bombed gigs.
The Replacements released four albums for Sire Records, starting with 1985’s Tim. Their final Sire album, All Shook Down, was released in September 1990 and only featured the four ‘Mats playing together as a whole on one track — the appropriately titled “Attitude.” Later that year, the band broke up.
The Compilation
Until now, the Replacements lacked a defining compilation. Their All for Nothing/Nothing for All was limited to the band’s later Sire Records material and left out their far superior Twin/Tone cuts.
But this summer, Rhino records put together a compilation that spans not only the band’s Sire material but also the earlier Twin/Tone songs. And somehow, the white-collar execs in charge of mixing the tracks actually captured the ‘Mats punk-rock essence perfectly.
Instead of just piling in all 16 singles the band released from 1981 to 1991, they chose 10 singles and 8 lesser-known album cuts for Don’t You Know Who I Think I Was: The Best of The Replacements, as well as two new songs that the three surviving band members reunited to record. The choices are uniformly exceptional.
Two tracks from The Replacements’ debut album kick off Don’t You Know, and then only one cut from the Stink E.P. follows. The curt coverage of the band’s earlier hardcore punk material suits the Replacements’ history: Their image as just another Clash knockoff quickly receded as Westerberg matured as a songwriter and a singer.
Don’t You Know also features the two best tracks from the band’s second L.P. Hootenanny, “Color Me Impressed” and “Within Your Reach.” However, it missteps in relegating Let It Be to only three tracks, while giving four to Tim, an album equal in critical prestige — but not in historical significance.
The Let It Be sampling comprises three similarly structured and themed songs, and this unfair selection hides the true brilliance of the band in its finest hour. “I Will Dare,” which features a guest guitar solo by R.E.M.’s Pete Buck, adds no value to Don’t You Know and should have been replaced with a more eclectic track from Let It Be, such as the piano-driven “Androgynous” or the ‘Mats’ stunning garage rock cover of KISS’s “Black Diamond.”
Rhino’s biggest faux pas in compiling Don’t You Know comes in the treatment of the ‘Mats first major label release, Tim. The album never resounded with die-hard Replacements fans because it lacked the raw energy of Let It Be, but it receives four cuts on Don’t You Know. The compilation includes “Bastards of Young,” “Left of the Dial” and “Here Comes a Regular,” the last of which stupidly leads off Tim on this compilation although it is the closing track on the album. While these songs arguably deserve the recognition, the last Tim cut is the goofy “Kiss Me on the Bus” and surely does not merit preservation in a best-of album.
Rhino messes up again in one of the three songs selected to represent Pleased to Meet Me, The ‘Mats’ second Sire album. The acoustic guitar solo “Skyway,” a meaningless two-minute ditty about Minneapolis transportation, makes the compilation instead of the much more powerful and flat-out better “The Ledge.” However, such a mistake is forgettable, as neither song is that important to The Replacements’ history.
The album breezes through the band’s final two albums, taking two from the almost-breakthrough and decidedly lousy Don’t Tell a Soul, including the band’s first and only Hot 100 hit, the pathetic “I’ll Be You,” which peaked at a mere #51 in 1989. It takes just one from All Shook Down, which was originally meant to be a solo album by Paul Westerberg and sounded nothing like anything else the band ever recorded. Both albums and their representative songs sound dated, having been heavily pop influenced, and are easy skips on this compilation.
However, two new songs and an incredibly detailed set of biographical liner notes also greet ‘Mats fans when they open Don’t You Know. Surprisingly, the new cuts sound like the band of old, although neither song is good enough to compete with the glory of Let It Be.
“Message to the Boys” is a very good addition, showing off some warmer Westerberg lyrics and even garnering some college rock radio time. “Pool & Dive” is not as strong, but it picks up where “Message to the Boys” leaves off and screws a secure lid over one of the best bands of all time.
The album is only worth the purchase price if you are not sure if you want to get into The Replacements — or if you are just a diehard fan trying to complete your collection. People who already own the studio albums would be better served to just download the two new songs, which would cost much less than the $14.99 disc price.
Either way, it is a very good compilation, which is rare in this day of over-commercialization. It isn’t perfect, but it definitely isn’t embarrassing. And after another 15 years, it will hardly be replaceable.
Remember the Replacements
By Burton Dewitt | For the Thresher
Maybe it was just fate that the last true rock and roll band was not anthologized until 15 years after its demise, giving a new generation of music fans a chance to acquaint themselves with mid-1980s indie glory. Or maybe it just took 15 years for fans to fully appreciate a void that can no longer be replaced. Either way, Don’t You Know Who I Think I Was finally spans the pre- and post-major label recordings of the Replacements. And for a band so original, a band that did everything wrong and still claimed authorship of some of the best rock music ever recorded — a band that dominated 1980s college radio alongside R.E.M. and Husker Due — the recording industry’s previous oversight was a damned shame.
The Band
In 1979, Paul Westerberg strapped on a guitar and started singing. Bob Stinson joined him on guitar, and Bob’s little brother Tommy — then only 12 — picked up a bass. Chris Mars chimed in on drums. Preferring to have a good time rather than actually being good, the band is famous for holding drunken or high rehearsals. They went through multiple appellations before settling on the Replacements, and the band acquired the nickname “The ‘Mats” as a result of accidentally being referred to as “The Placemats.”
When the Replacements performed, they were often belligerently drunk and purposely put on lousy shows. Early in the band’s career, Westerberg and company performed as The Impediments and were blacklisted after their first gig for raucous behavior. The band’s christening as The Replacements only occurred so they could trick club owners into letting them play again.
Even after the ‘Mats made a name for themselves among recording executives — although, admittedly, it was often hard to keep track of what that name was — they still seemed self-destructive on stage. When opening for R.E.M. in 1983, they almost got kicked off the tour for performing drunken covers in lieu of their critically acclaimed original material. However, they persevered in offstage brilliance as well as onstage floppery, and the Replacements released Let It Be in 1984 — an album so innovative that Sire Records signed them despite countless bombed gigs.
The Replacements released four albums for Sire Records, starting with 1985’s Tim. Their final Sire album, All Shook Down, was released in September 1990 and only featured the four ‘Mats playing together as a whole on one track — the appropriately titled “Attitude.” Later that year, the band broke up.
The Compilation
Until now, the Replacements lacked a defining compilation. Their All for Nothing/Nothing for All was limited to the band’s later Sire Records material and left out their far superior Twin/Tone cuts.
But this summer, Rhino records put together a compilation that spans not only the band’s Sire material but also the earlier Twin/Tone songs. And somehow, the white-collar execs in charge of mixing the tracks actually captured the ‘Mats punk-rock essence perfectly.
Instead of just piling in all 16 singles the band released from 1981 to 1991, they chose 10 singles and 8 lesser-known album cuts for Don’t You Know Who I Think I Was: The Best of The Replacements, as well as two new songs that the three surviving band members reunited to record. The choices are uniformly exceptional.
Two tracks from The Replacements’ debut album kick off Don’t You Know, and then only one cut from the Stink E.P. follows. The curt coverage of the band’s earlier hardcore punk material suits the Replacements’ history: Their image as just another Clash knockoff quickly receded as Westerberg matured as a songwriter and a singer.
Don’t You Know also features the two best tracks from the band’s second L.P. Hootenanny, “Color Me Impressed” and “Within Your Reach.” However, it missteps in relegating Let It Be to only three tracks, while giving four to Tim, an album equal in critical prestige — but not in historical significance.
The Let It Be sampling comprises three similarly structured and themed songs, and this unfair selection hides the true brilliance of the band in its finest hour. “I Will Dare,” which features a guest guitar solo by R.E.M.’s Pete Buck, adds no value to Don’t You Know and should have been replaced with a more eclectic track from Let It Be, such as the piano-driven “Androgynous” or the ‘Mats’ stunning garage rock cover of KISS’s “Black Diamond.”
Rhino’s biggest faux pas in compiling Don’t You Know comes in the treatment of the ‘Mats first major label release, Tim. The album never resounded with die-hard Replacements fans because it lacked the raw energy of Let It Be, but it receives four cuts on Don’t You Know. The compilation includes “Bastards of Young,” “Left of the Dial” and “Here Comes a Regular,” the last of which stupidly leads off Tim on this compilation although it is the closing track on the album. While these songs arguably deserve the recognition, the last Tim cut is the goofy “Kiss Me on the Bus” and surely does not merit preservation in a best-of album.
Rhino messes up again in one of the three songs selected to represent Pleased to Meet Me, The ‘Mats’ second Sire album. The acoustic guitar solo “Skyway,” a meaningless two-minute ditty about Minneapolis transportation, makes the compilation instead of the much more powerful and flat-out better “The Ledge.” However, such a mistake is forgettable, as neither song is that important to The Replacements’ history.
The album breezes through the band’s final two albums, taking two from the almost-breakthrough and decidedly lousy Don’t Tell a Soul, including the band’s first and only Hot 100 hit, the pathetic “I’ll Be You,” which peaked at a mere #51 in 1989. It takes just one from All Shook Down, which was originally meant to be a solo album by Paul Westerberg and sounded nothing like anything else the band ever recorded. Both albums and their representative songs sound dated, having been heavily pop influenced, and are easy skips on this compilation.
However, two new songs and an incredibly detailed set of biographical liner notes also greet ‘Mats fans when they open Don’t You Know. Surprisingly, the new cuts sound like the band of old, although neither song is good enough to compete with the glory of Let It Be.
“Message to the Boys” is a very good addition, showing off some warmer Westerberg lyrics and even garnering some college rock radio time. “Pool & Dive” is not as strong, but it picks up where “Message to the Boys” leaves off and screws a secure lid over one of the best bands of all time.
The album is only worth the purchase price if you are not sure if you want to get into The Replacements — or if you are just a diehard fan trying to complete your collection. People who already own the studio albums would be better served to just download the two new songs, which would cost much less than the $14.99 disc price.
Either way, it is a very good compilation, which is rare in this day of over-commercialization. It isn’t perfect, but it definitely isn’t embarrassing. And after another 15 years, it will hardly be replaceable.
