#sorry for popping off with this one re: religion if you come for my throat about it i will simply laugh

[needle-noggins]

clearly i'm in an analysis mood so i'll share my thoughts on the GHG scene in Trimax Volume 2, mostly Legato, that crazy son of a bitch.

First, there's something to be said about his wild Iron Lung set up. On my first read I thought it was more of a punishment from Knives for threatening Vash, but I guess it's also because his body is physically broken? And/or a way to curb his power? Either way, Legato is the definition of "jokes on you, I'm into that shit" because he's so extremely broken (in every sense of the word). There's a definite link between Legato's trauma and the fucked up little guy he is now but I don't know shit about shit so would not consider myself qualified to discuss it further. Please read madnessmadness's trigun bdsm post as a supplemental.

ok, this next panel made me gasp. It's not a needle-noggins analysis without religious symbolism, so here you go!

Vash is literally hanging upside down, arms splayed out on an upside down cross, when Legato talks about him. Like, okay pontius pilate!! I think Vash is upside down for two reasons, the obvious being that the reader can tell that Legato is talking about killing Vash (cool abstract blood splatter too, which kinda messes with the cross form and makes it less obvious) (but i see you nightow, you can't escape my catholic eyes). The second, is, well, the way that Peter was crucified - not right-side-up like good ol' Jesus. The story goes that Peter requested to be crucified upside down because he didn't deserve to die the same way as Jesus. Trigun muddles so many biblical references all at once that a direct correlation can't be made at any given time, but I think we can interpret this here as Vash being unworthy/not the savior in Legato's mind (to him that's Knives, ofc).

An upside-down crucifix now is also a satanic symbol, just like. Inverting Christianity. Obvious "these are the bad guys". But I think that's a much more common symbol in western culture than to Japanese so I'm not gonna read into that too much.

nothing to add here other than Midvalley is lowkey fine (like if Wolfwood got his shit together) and here we can see the internal conflict of the GHG. Nobody's doin' it like Legato's doin' it, and I wish Midvalley pulled that trigger (it's not his place though, but damn it sure would save Vash a lot of trouble).

Bring back Knives' bodycon bdsm dress, Stampede!!!

"engrave the futility of his cause into his every bone" jfc, Knives. I've said it earlier but Knives's attempt to show Vash "the true nature of [humanity]" backfires so hard because instead he just shows Vash the nature of his own being, the terrifying weapon that he is (cough fifth moon). Vash doesn't blame people at all for how they see him, because baby boy has absolutely zero self-esteem and far too much compassion. Meanwhile, Knives is still a proud, burnt out gifted kid who is terrified at his heart and he's going to make it everyone else's problem. Knives understands his brother so little that he doesn't see that his plan is just going to make Vash fight him harder. Knives is too blinded by his fear and disdain for humanity to even consider it. Zero compassion. Fantastic way to highlight the overarching themes of the story. (/hand-wavy "you get it, right?" motion)

Someone please get Legato a napkin and explain to him that Knives is not God. Something something horrible deeds being done in the name of God's "will"; Trimax is both showing us space Jesus as our beloved self-sacrificing protagonist while also warning us against blind faith in a vengeful God, etc etc. It's my Trigun book club analysis and I get to choose the biblical symbolism to fit the way I hate modern Christianity!

#trimax spoilers #trigunbookclub #sorry for popping off with this one re: religion if you come for my throat about it i will simply laugh #bc my relationship with religion is complicated and i dont care if you think im bad at it #i didnt go to catholic school from K-8th to NOT overanalyze the biblical references in my favorite space western anime #dont be weird on this post ok? #but do be weird if we're going to talk more about Legato's kink shit #bc im very much uneducated on that topic in general lol

[projectalbum]

R U Talkin’ I.R.S. R.E.M. RE: ME? 183. “Murmur - Deluxe Edition,” 184. “Reckoning,” 185. “Fables of the Reconstruction,” 186. “Lifes Rich Pageant,” 187. “Dead Letter Office," 188. “Document” by R.E.M.

If you’ve been following this blog with any regularity, you may have noticed how often references to R.E.M. weave their way into my appraisals of other artists. That’s because the band has become a bit of a Rosetta Stone for my musical taste: eclectic, ever-evolving, beautifully melodic, with evocative (or downright inscrutable) lyrics. I delved into their decades-long catalogue- piecemeal and out of chronology in the pre-Spotify days- at the exact point in my adolescence when I was forming what that taste would be. And now I must ask the question that has so ignited the public's curiosity: When did I first hear of the band R.E.M.?

My answer, at long last, is… "Hmm, not sure." As recounted in my entry on Barenaked Ladies (or “BNL,” as befitting such an essential band): during a high school trip through Europe, a bus ride from Ireland to Wales was scored by an all-over-the-map mixtape.* I was definitely already familiar with “It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” when it popped up. And I remember, sitting there as misty green hills moved past the window, that it sparked a web of associations: I likely thought of “Losing My Religion,” probably “The One I Love.” After watching a Comedy Central documentary on Andy Kaufman, I became briefly obsessed, and my mom helpfully told me that there was a song written about him, titled “Man on the Moon.” She pulled Automatic for the People, the only R.E.M. release she owned, off the shelf and played that track for me. I think I liked it, but I didn’t go further than that.

So, sitting on that tour bus, I figured that when we reached the London leg of our whirlwind trip, I would use my personal pilgrimage to Virgin Megastore (remember those?) to pick up a greatest hits collection. And I did, getting the recently released In Time: The Best of R.E.M. I loved it so much, I barely noticed that half the songs I knew, including the one that had inspired the purchase, were nowhere to be found.

As I later learned, that compilation was put out by Warner Bros Records, and as such was solely focused on the songs the band recorded while under contract to that label. And it’s true, several of their biggest hits came out of those first few WB releases. But wither “The One I Love?” Well, before they signed that lucrative deal, R.E.M. made their bones putting out arty, jangly, pastorally pretty rock music under the banner of I.R.S. Records.  

It’s been awhile since I first heard their debut full-length Murmur (#183), but after the slicker, weirder, string-flavored tunes I was used to, hearing the upfront immediacy of the young-and-hungry band, playing as a tight group over a chasm of reverb, was a bit revelatory. Recorded at the now-defunct Reflection Sound Studios in Charlotte, NC (a liner note discovery that filled me with no small amount of regional pride), Don Dixon and Mitch Easter's production makes the jangle rock dreamy and beguiling while avoiding cheesy 80’s pitfalls. It’s all killer, no filler (I even love “We Walk,” all bouncy repetition and ever-climbing arpeggios)— right now, I’d say the earnest “Talk About The Passion” and the almost hiccupy hook of “Catapult” rank as my favorite moments, but that changes and shifts unpredictably.

The sonic muscle of Reckoning (#184) is cleaner, with opener “Harborcoat” immediately shaking loose the spooky cobwebs of Murmur. Again, the immediacy surprised me when I first heard it: I was hearing the version of the band that tore the roof off of tiny venues in sleepy college towns throughout the South. For a time, it was the comparative lack of the fussy arrangements and earnest, soaring melodies I’d come to expect from my R.E.M. that dismissed this album to a dusty gray corner in my mind. But the mark of a Favorite Band means that you can return to their work at different times in your life and find that while the music stayed the same, you’re hearing it with different ears. There’s not a weak link in 10 tracks, and songs that I’d once had trouble even recalling became new favorites: "So. Central Rain,” with its ringing Rickenbacker guitar line, melodic bass, and keening chorus (“I’m sorry”) is a fan favorite for a reason, and “Camera,” which recalls a departed friend of the band’s, builds to a shattering chorus. And of course, the one straight-up, tear-in-your-beer country rocker in their catalogue, “(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville."

I remember driving to night classes in my first year of community college, listening to my newly-purchased disc of Fables of the Reconstruction (#185). Now this was immediately my speed, with the spooky, menacing, string quartet-inflected “Feeling Gravity’s Pull” and incantatory “Maps and Legends" leading the pack. The band had a lousy experience recording it, and they badmouth the way the songs were mixed, but to me the thick-as-kudzu production is a big part of this album’s hallucinatory power. I love the surreal, umber and burnished gold and chartreuse cover art as well: though the layout looks a little too cluttered on the CD, I bought the vinyl record from a second-hand store just to frame it, with the “Reconstruction of the Fables” ear-box side facing out from my wall.

Not every track does it for me. “Can’t Get There from Here” is fun but a little too affected in its whimsy, and “Auctioneer (Another Engine),” already a bit monotone, is the track most hampered by sludgy sound. But sandwiched in-between are “Green Grow the Rushes” and “Kohoutek,” glimpses of the environmentally-conscious, culturally-sensitive side of Michael Stripe and Co that led directly into their follow-up, Lifes Rich Pageant (#186). They expand the promise of those two tracks with “Fall On Me” and “Cuyahoga,” to devastatingly pretty effect.

Where Fables was a nighttime drive down an inky-dark American highway, Pageant is a wide-eyed survey of virgin prairie, a longing to return to unspoiled harmonic existence. “Let’s put our heads together / Let’s start a new country up,” the natives of “Cuyahoga” resolve over the ashy remains of the river bend. "What you want and what you need, there's the key / Your adventure for today, what do you do / Between the horns of the day?” Stipe exhorts his listeners in “I Believe,” and the Southern beach rock behind the words pushes you to make your move. “We are young despite the years / We are concern / We are hope despite the times,” he belts out over furious riffs and annihilated drums in “These Days," Mike Mills calling out affirmation in his backup vocal.

Right down to the absurdist sea shanty “Swan Swan H” and infectiously fun cover “Superman” that close it out, it’s hard to find a more consistent document of the band’s strengths. And now, damn, I want that to be a crackerjack segue to discussion of their next studio album, but months before that final I.R.S. release, there was Dead Letter Office (#187). A collection of occasionally rather sloppy outtakes and covers of varying reverence, the main draw here is the inclusion of their debut EP Chronic Town (on the CD, anyway. I notice that Spotify separates those songs from the DLO tracks). The angular menace of “Wolves, Lower” and the subtle, melodic magic of “Gardening At Night” (Stripe’s almost unintelligible lyrics are Exhibit A for his early-years shyness) are justifiable fan favorites to this day— not bad for the first batch of songs from such a prolific group. A must.

Buying Document (#188) finally gave me easy access to “It’s The End of the World...” and “The One I Love” (rather than, you know, waiting to hear one or the other on the radio). It also meant first experiencing one of my favorite opening salvos on record: “Finest Worksong.” It sounds HUGE, to borrow an oft-accurate phrase from notable actor/R.E.M. podcaster Adam Scott. Bill Berry’s thundercrack drums echo as if recorded in a cavernous factory where the overlords have been overthrown, while Peter Buck’s guitar chugs and drones, a dramatic change from the nimble arpeggios that made up previous records. It, and the songs that follow— “Welcome to the Occupation” ("Listen to the buyer still / Listen to the Congress / Where we propagate confusion”), “Exhuming McCarthy” ("Vested interest, united ties / Landed gentry, rationalize / Look who bought the myth / By Jingo, buy America”), “Disturbance at the Heron House”— make the album, at 31 years old, feel like a queasy reflection of our current milieu. No one feels fine right now.

Luckily, the music is still driving, fun, singable, varied in its grooves and moods. “Fireplace,” coming right after the twofer of the most famous singles, provided me such an unexpected thrill with a rare appearance by sinuous be-bop saxophone, such a different color for this band. Sax in 80’s songs is usually an utterly cheeseball affair, but this is a dark, weird tune, and is nowhere near that register of power balladry. “Lightnin’ Hopkins” is just as unique, with a metalhead rolling drum beat and Stipe acting like a throat-shredded street preacher over echoey chain-gang backup howls.

This band takes up a whole shelf in my house, so hold on tight for several more comprehensive and encyclopedic write-ups. 

*It’s been over a year since I wrote that entry, and I recently realized my memory is jumbled up. I now have a clear recollection that the songs from BNL’s Everything For Everyone were repeating in my head ON THAT VERY TRIP! So I was already a fan.

#michael stipe #peter buck #mike mills #bill berry #murmur #the one i love #lifes rich pageant #rock #music blog #album art #album cover #cd cover #cd collection #cd #document #r.e.m.