Tag Archives: automatic for the people

#1324: R.E.M. – Sweetness Follows

You know, I’ve been intently listening to R.E.M.’s ‘Sweetness Follows’ for a good seven years now. I thought I at least knew everything that was going on in the song. But when revisiting Michael Stipe and Mike Mills’ track-by-track analysis of Automatic for the People to help me write the post, I was surprised to hear that the fuzzy melody that plays in the centre channel – which I assumed was just a bass guitar of some kind – is actually produced by a cello. And I’ve watched that video before. I guess I just forgot. I’ve also heard cellos before. They’re usually known for their deep, resonant tones. Not the growling rumble that goes on through ‘Sweetness Follows’. But I’m not complaining. During that linked track-by-track recollection, Stipe recalls having a “eureka” moment when cellist Knox Chandler spontaneously played the opening notes you hear on the track. Those notes are looped for the majority of it. They definitely add a unique layer to the production.

‘Sweetness Follows’ is right in the middle of Automatic for the People, the first half closer if you have it on vinyl. And on an album that touches upon mortality and getting older, it’s only right that ‘Sweetness…’ arrives as the album’s centerpiece – seeing as it’s all about the sweet embrace of death and everything. Stipe, whose vocal take I really like on this one, by the way – sings about appreciating those fleeting moments we have in the relatively short amount of time we respectively have here on the planet. To not get wound up in all the drama that can happen because it all gets forgotten about eventually, and when we die, that’s when we get our peace. And we shouldn’t be sad about death because there’s the possibility that there’s something better that comes on the otherside. Sweetness follows. Unless you’re a staunch “When we die, that’s it” kind of person, then this song might not be the one for you. It might just also be about a family argument, according to this interpretation, so you could always lean on that too.

Like the other songs from Automatic… I’ve written about on here, I didn’t fully appreciate this one until I heard it played out loud on some good speakers at work in my first job out of uni. It’s all about the wide open spaces available in ‘Sweetness Follows’. There aren’t any drums in the song. No bass guitar either as we’ve already established. And the lack of a rhythm section greatly allows the textural elements within to flow and make their presence known. That organ in the left? Great. You can hear Peter Buck strumming away on his acoustic guitar in the back. It was his chord sequencing that got the whole track going in the first place. With this funereal mood going on, you wonder how things could change direction, and they do when those cathartic, wailing guitar feedback sections come in, enveloping the soundscape while Stipe and Mills vocalise in the midst of it all. A great number on a great album.

#1274: R.E.M. – Star Me Kitten

Uh, R.E.M. again? You might be feeling that way if you saw this popping up in your email. Just how the cookie crumbles, I’m sorry. And it’s not as if the song today is a widely-known favourite of the band’s, even though it’s from arguably their best album. I look at the number of plays for ‘Star Me Kitten’ on Spotify, and the cold hard truth is it’s the least played out of the total 12 tracks that make up Automatic for the People. It’s definitely the one that brings about a left turn in the album’s proceedings. But it’s the difference it brings that makes me enjoy it a whole lot more, more than a couple other tracks on there, to be honest.

I’d had Automatic… sitting in my iTunes library for years and had maybe gone through it a few times, but nothing really registered. But bring around 2018, I was at work, brought the album up on Spotify, let it play on the loudspeakers and it was a totally different experience. I’ll leave it to general youth and foolishness as to why I couldn’t get into it before then. I gained a whole new appreciation for the record by the end of ‘Find the River’, which would have had its own post too if I’d got my act together, and the individual tracks within. When it came to ‘Star Me Kitten’, I just remember feeling entranced by it. Those layered Mike Mill vocals in the back alongside the organ? Hypnotizing stuff. And the guitar melody by Peter Buck which Michael Stipe mirrors from front to back with his vocal is all slinky and almost seductive in a way. What really got me though was that descending three-note scale that happens at points during the track. You’ll know what I mean when you hear it. But it was really those parts that got stuck in my head and made me listen to the whole thing over and over.

Why the song’s called ‘Star Me Kitten’ has a pretty simple story. We all know the lyric is ‘Fuck Me Kitten’, and it was originally going to be listed as such on physical copies. But doing so would mean that a Parental Advisory label would have to be slapped onto the album covers. The word ‘fuck’ is said a few times in fellow album track ‘Ignoreland’. The band didn’t want this to happen, so they censored themselves using inspiration from The Rolling Stones’ ‘Star Star’. And as to what the song’s about, well, I’ve never come up with anything myself. But seeing the lyrics, it appears to be from the perspective of a narrator lamenting the end of a relationship, but still being enchanted by the other person that they want to have a casual get together every once in a while. That’s my deduced take for you.

#802: R.E.M. – Man on the Moon

I downloaded the Automatic for the People album years ago. A website said that it was a very good record. I didn’t really pay much attention to it though. 2018 was the year I really got into R.E.M., and I went through the band’s whole discography in about two weeks. Automatic was an obvious standout. ‘Man on the Moon’ is the tenth track on there.

Drummer Bill Berry came up with the main chord progression of the verses (a slide from C to D) while strumming a guitar alongside the band’s usual guitarist, Peter Buck. The story goes that Berry reached for something and inadvertently changed the chord he was playing. Buck went ahead and developed upon the idea. Singer and lyricist Michael Stipe heard the music they had come up with, and for a long time had some trouble coming up with words to accompany it. In the end, he chose to write about comedian Andy Kaufman, his career highlights and compares those conspiracies about his death with those about the moon landing. The word ‘yeah’ also appears a lot in there because Stipe was inspired by Kurt Cobain’s use of it in Nirvana songs.

Notable highlights in this song for me are the three way harmonies of Stipe, bassist Mike Mills, and Berry. Those vocals were a staple in the R.E.M. catalogue from the band’s first album. After Automatic they weren’t utilised as much. Whenever that ‘Andy did you hear about this one’ pre-chorus starts with Berry on the lower harmony and Mills on the high with Stipe in the middle, it always feels like this huge change in motion from the preceding verses. Peter Buck’s slide guitar during these parts are quite nice too. Released as the second single from the album in 1992, it was part of a run that cemented the hold that R.E.M. had on the alternative world on the time. I’ll never really know how big the band were then. I hadn’t been born. But from what I’ve read, they were a huge deal.