It's a documented fact that few rock bands--even the "great" ones--ever make more than a handful of great records. And even fewer are able to maintain a level of creativity that will hold the interest of those outside the bands' fanatics.
Since making the leap from indie upstarts to the "establishment," R.E.M. has wisely used its additional resources for exploration and, no matter what your take on the band's evolution, it has managed to keep both fans and critics on the edge of their seats.
To that end, Up, the first release since drummer Bill Berry exited in 1997, begins with "Airportman," four minutes of atmospherics that might seem more suited to Eno's Another Green World. Next, "Lotus" makes for the disc's sole rocker, with muscular drumming courtesy of Beck drummer Joey Waronker. By accident or design, the first two cuts constitute Up's extremes. The remaining dozen tracks are more R.E.M.-like. Stipe's vocals are without question his best to date, while his lyrics are peppered with religious references, musings about God-knows-what, and thought-provoking non-sequiturs (which you can try to decipher for yourself, thanks to a libretto). In the quirky department, "Hope" quotes, note for note, the melody of Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne" over a keyboard part that, by the tune's end, sounds like Al Kooper's "House In The Country." But it's any number of beautifully concise musical statements like "The Apologist," "Walk Unafraid," and "Diminished" that make Up R.E.M.'s best disc since Automatic For The People.
To answer the big questions: no, except for the absence of any full-on rockers, you won't notice Berry's absence and; yes, this will be counted as one of R.E.M.'s finest and, perhaps, most timeless moments.
