CMX - Veljeskunta (1991) / Veljeskunta [Gold] (2002)

1) Kulje vasten; 2) Neljäs valtakunta; 3) Metallipurkaus; 4) Kuu; 5) Veljeskunta; 6) Rytmitehdas; 7) Helvetin hyvä paimen; 8) Vaskiperse; 9) Ääni ja vimma; 10) Tanssitauti; 11) Kätketty kukka; 12) Enteitä; 13) Täynnä naisia; 14) Tulikiveä; 2002 Gold Edition Bonus Tracks: Tanssitauti EP (1990): 15) "Matti"; 16) Tanssin jumala; 17) Hän on tullut; 18) Pimeä maa; 19) Pornogeneraattori; Musiikin ystävälliset kasvot EP (1991): 20) Musiikin ystävälliset kasvot; 21) Vieraita avaruudesta (I); 22) Polyhymnia; 23) Vieraita avaruudesta (II)

A new line-up arrives with a desire for a new sound. Not quite there yet, but close.

Key tracks: "Veljeskunta", Helvetin hyvä paimen, Kätketty kukka

Veljeskunta brings with it a few shake-ups to the CMX story. One is that after a few guitarist shake-ups the band now features both Timo Rasio and Janne Halmkrona, fixing in place the band's double-guitarist format with the two axemen that would continue with the band for the decades to come. The other, somewhat relatedly, is a change in sound. The band's crooked idea of punk had ran its course and inspired by the addition of fresh blood in their ranks and their respective skillsets, the band decided it was time for a change. A firm change, as well: Veljeskunta would turn out to be CMX's last album on Bad Vugum, and there's a great anecdote about the label head having a chat with the band after the release of the record and the subsequent Musiikin ystävälliset kasvot EP, and how he had started to feel the band was getting a little too commercial for the label.

The familiar zeal and fury of Kolmikärki is well and present on Veljeskunta but CMX have, indeed, largely given up the old punk aesthetics in favour of other ideas. Calling this close to mainstream is a reach, but it's inarguable that the band is moving to a more digestible direction compared to their first EPs and album, including a couple of attempts at more direct alternative rock cuts which would comfortably slot in many of the band's later albums: “Kätketty kukka” unofficially sets the blueprint for many CMX radio singles to come and A.W. Yrjänä’s more dissonant chorus vocals come across as an intentional attempt to tone that friendliness down, and “Helvetin hyvä paimen” shifts to an acoustic gear while retaining the angular nature of the record, and it sounds closer to classic CMX than the acoustic experiments on Kolmikärki. Other, similarly non-abrasive influences are starting to also come through more audibly - there's more keyboards and in particular the atmospheric closer "Tulikiveä" leans on them entirely, and "Täynnä naisia" has a clear hint of early R.E.M. to its swing. Alongside these is a scattered number of wildly varied pieces which are least awkwardly described as post-punk, with the band’s hardcore past making cameos at best even when the throttle pedal is pushed all the way down. Veljeskunta is a transitional record where the band are flexing new ideas and throwing out suggestions of new ideas to intake, and like so many transitional albums it's a little unfocused, slightly overlong and somewhat chaotic.  

That means that overall Veljeskunta is where the pieces start clicking in place, but the wider picture is still being sketched and we’re only getting excerpts of something greater. You can hear the potential, most vividly in the excellent middle section run, featuring the gothic post-punk of the title track with Kikke Heikkinen’s manic backing vocals, the steady and solid “Rytmitehdas” and “Tanssitauti” which remind me of the similarly chaotic enthusiasm of Manic Street Preachers’ very early years, “Vaskiperse”  and “Ääni ja vimma” with their bizarre but exhilaratingly contrasting surprises thrown in (the car chase soundtrack breakdown complete with a ridiculous MIDI horn section on the former, the wild backing vocals on the latter), and the aforementioned "Helvetin hyvä paimen" and "Kätketty kukka". After a relatively stiff and somewhat forgettable start, that central third is the album’s peak where its energy, brutality, melody and sense of humour (still intact from the debut, wonderfully) are in perfect balance; the same pace carries through to the album's end, but by that point the 14-track length is starting to show its length. Veljeskunta isn’t a long album - only 38 minutes - but it doesn't quite justify the amount of songs it has, because while it's got its strengths none of its songs are so good they'd carry the album. Veljeskunta is an acquaintance you see every couple of years and you enjoy spending time with when they do turn up, but who you don't really think about in the meantime and you've never felt a connection with to consider a friend. Maybe if it had been condensed into a tight ten-track movement (probably without the first four tracks, all of which are rather superfluous and starts the record off on the wrong note), we could be talking about a breakthrough record. It’s on the verge though, waiting for a nudge, and the band wouldn’t take too long to make that leap.

The 2002 “Gold” re-release of the record adds in the album’s surrounding EPs as the bonus tracks and they very much equal the main album in interest, giving the listener a sense of chronology and development in action as they fill in the gaps in the story. 1990’s Tanssitauti EP is the bridge between Kolmikärki and the band’s then-established hardcore punk sound, treating the listener to three snappy punk cuts (most famously the originally untitled but now officially nicknamed “Matti” which has become a fan favourite due to its brutally dark humour), glued together by two songs hinting at the wider sonic experimentation of Veljeskunta. The hysterical “Tanssin jumala”, with a piano section that sounds like an early 90s house piano approximated through the Sega MegaDrive soundboard and it's the best song on the EP, and the gothic gloom of “Pimeä maa" comes close in its bold, booming presence. 

But out of the two EPs, Musiikin ystävälliset kasvot is the one to really pay attention to. Prior to its original release Bad Vugum objected to its direction (see also the anecdote from the beginning of this review) and they cropped it to a two-song single release with the title track and the second "Vieraita avaruudesta". The Gold edition restores it in its originally intended four-track form, and you can hear why the proudly confrontational label was starting to think it was time for the band to move on. The entire EP has a heightened sense of melody compared to anything that the band had released before, and more adventurous arrangements and deeper songwriting are starting to regularise in their output. The first "Vieraita avaruudesta" has a brilliant bridge section that feels practically revelatory after such sections being glaringly absent from the last two albums, the second one moves the song into slower and darker waters with a heavy, processed sound (and a wonderfully crunchy bass) that acts as CMX's first attempt at using the recording studio as another instrument layer of its own, and the stripped down "Polyhymnia" breaks through its distorted chords with some actual beauty. The title track is a bonafide CMX anthem and absolutely the best song of their Bad Vugum years: a distinct lead guitar part that hooks instantly, the Kalevala-reminiscent lyrical meter in the verse that gives the vocals an eccentric but captivating melody, and the whole concoction thrashes through with a near-metal stomp under its feet. The whole EP is unmistakenly, thoroughly CMX and it's the starting line for the rest of their catalogue.

I'd probably give Veljeskunta itself a solid, positively leaning 6/10 but this is definitely one release where the extras go above and beyond adding value to the whole package. Knowing these EPs and especially Musiikin ystävälliset kasvot are essential to any CMX fan from a historical and from a pure song quality perspective, and so the final 7/10 really is for the entire 23-song package.  

Rating: 7/10

R.E.M. - Out of Time (1991)

1) Radio Song; 2) Losing My Religion; 3) Low; 4) Near Wild Heaven; 5) Endgame; 6) Shiny Happy People; 7) Belong; 8) Half a World Away; 9) Texarkana; 10) Country Feedback; 11) Me in Honey

Wildly flailing in every direction, with numerous sound experiments and genre exercises. And yet, somehow this became a hit. And moreso, a real classic in general.

Key tracks: "Losing My Religion", "Belong", "Country Feedback"

What a bizarre album to become the one that turned R.E.M. into one of the biggest bands on Earth. Out of Time is a borderline messy jumble of different styles and various kinds of experiments, a band at the crossroads of development with the intent to go in all directions. It had two big hit singles. One of them is not just one of the most legendary songs of the 90s but a completely timeless, iconic classic -  an otherwordly confessional with a chorus so subtle that it doesn’t even really exist, a song that genuinely sounds magical and unique. The other is a silly novelty bubblegum pop song. Not that the rest of the album is any more consistent. There is a general trend of the band picking up acoustic instruments throughout the album but between spoken word jams, gentle instrumentals, funk rock, saccharine pop songs and heartrending laments, Out of Time never stays still in one place.

The wild movements signal a desire to grow, and Out of Time is a major milestone for R.E.M. in that regard. This is where the pieces really begin to fall in place, after the groundwork that Green paved. Green - itself a very varied album - generally acts as Out of Time’s blueprint. The lush sound that appeared in Green are taken even further, the band’s arrangements growing ever more detailed and masterful, and the taste for a less hurried tone that Green foreshadowed is now the norm. But a lot has changed within the band as well, with everyone more confidently rising into the spotlight and exercising their own skills and creativity: expanded instrumentation, casual role swaps and general do-anything mentality give Out of Time a richer palette and really highlights the band members. This is especially true for the two Mikes. Mills had sung the lead vocal on a few covers prior to now, but on Out of Time he gets two R.E.M. originals to sing on prominent display. The honey-sweet, effortlessly pretty “Near Wild Heaven” even became a single, which further underlined the band’s confidence in their own changes. The other song, the americana rocker “Texarkana”, arguably shows off Mills’ vocals even more confidently.

It’s Stipe, though, who undergoes the greatest metamorphosis on Out of Time. Where he once mumbled his way through the songs and intentionally hid his voice among the instruments, he’s now embraced the microphone and pours his heart out into his vocals, with a sharpened lyrical pen where the words deserve to be heard through the new clarity in his voice. Throughout the album he channels a gamut of emotions from heartrending to lighthearted and always comes across reaching personally to the listener. It’s on Out of Time where Stipe becomes one of the greatest frontmen in rock. R.E.M. were about to take over the world and Stipe sounds like he’s ready for the role.

The jumble of sounds is the result of the band being high on their newly-strengthened confidence and the fearlessness that results from it, but it’s precisely that confidence which makes such an odds and sods collection work so well. R.E.M. have discovered new peaks to their creativity and are riding them with abandon, putting everything of themselves behind each song and revelling in the results. Credit to the production and general background work where it’s due: cohesive sound elements run through Out of Time to make funk rock anthems, existential crises and shiny happy pop songs best friends, and the carefully thought out sequencing is genuinely experience-enricheningly good here. The rich, warm tones running throughout production also make the album sound instantly welcoming and full of heart, and it’s used to back one of R.E.M.’s greatest set of songs. That statement includes the instrumental interlude “Endgame” in all of its serenity as well as the pariah singalong “Shiny Happy People”, which is a genuinely brilliant song where it doesn’t matter whether it’s meant to be sarcastic or not, it’s just so heartwarmingly positive regardless. “Losing My Religion” – rather obviously – towers over everything: it’s a one of a kind of a song, a truly jawdropping piece of music where everything, from the arrangement to the melodies, the lyrics, the performance and the sheer emotion it evokes is spellbinding. Everything considered though, the rest of the album isn’t overshadowed by it at all. “Country Feedback” is the other bonafide classic of the set, as Stipe purges his guts over a desert dirge ballad in a fashion that sticks to your mind for good, delivering the downright rawest performance. The disarmingly gorgeous mood moment “Half a World Away” and half spoken word, half wordless soar “Belong” have always been big personal favourites out of the less mentioned songs, and “Texarkana” suits Mills’ softer vocal tone so perfectly that it could have been a perfect launchpad for a solo career.

Despite all that, Out of Time still feels almost understated and underspoken about, but you can understand it in a way: it doesn’t have a consistent stylistic angle of much of the band’s more praised works, and outside “Losing My Religion” and “Country Feedback” it lacks in the canonised standout moments. It has all the characteristics of a transitional album, the theoretically awkward step from the 80s indie heroes to Automatic for the People’s acoustic laments. Yet every single song has been crafted with such love and dedication that it transcends that notion and becomes a fully-fledged, fully-fleshed piece of great work on its own, defined by its wild swings everywhere but always keeping the heart in the same place. It’s a slightly bizarre, messy album, but it’s wrapped in homey warmth and wonderful tunes. It’s not an obvious classic perhaps, but nonetheless a brilliant moment for R.E.M.

Out of Time’s name is rather literal - it was chosen when the band was running out of time to name the album as it was about to go to print - but its more abstract reading is perfect for the album. There’s a timeless quality to the songs contained within, where they don’t feel like they’re tied to any particular decade: both thanks to the still-strong production as well as the songs that themselves are outside any kind of temporal bubble (apart from perhaps “Radio Song”, which is great fun and genuinely infectious, but also very early 90s). It’s a beautiful album and completely evergreen, ageless and nothing like anything before or since – utterly unique without even trying to reach for it. It’s the album that raised R.E.M. into well deserved stardom, the one where they certified their status as one of the greatest of all time and it contains one of the greatest songs ever recorded. The band made better albums, sure, but that’s incredible in its own self. Out of Time is nothing short of a classic.

Rating: 9/10

Nirvana - Nevermind (1991)

1) Smells Like Teen Spirit; 2) In Bloom; 3) Come as You Are; 4) Breed; 5) Lithium; 6) Polly; 7) Territorial Pissings; 8) Drain You; 9) Lounge Act; 10) Stay Away; 11) On a Plain; 12) Something in the Way / Endless, Nameless [hidden track]; 20th Anniversary Deluxe edition bonus tracks (The B-Sides): 13) Even in His Youth; 14) Aneurysm; 15) Curmudgeon; 16) D-7 (Live at the BBC); 17) Been a Son (Live); 18) School (Live); 19) Drain You (Live); 20) Sliver (Live); 21) Polly (Live)
Deluxe Edition CD2: The Smart Studio Sessions 1) In Bloom; 2) Immodium (Breed); 3) Lithium; 4) Polly; 5) Pay to Play; 6) Here She Comes Now; 7) Dive; 8) Sappy; The Boombox Rehearsals 9) Smells Like Teen Spirit; 10) Verse Chorus Verse; 11) Territorial Pissings; 12) Lounge Act; 13) Come as You Are; 14) Old Age; 15) Something in the Way; 16) On a Plain; BBC Sessions 17) Drain You; 18) Something in the Way

Key Tracks: "Smells Like Teen Spirit", "Come as You Are", "Something in the Way"

It destroyed hair metal and created a generation of angry teenagers, but it's actually quite fun isn't it? And iconic, sure, but not perfect - though you can understand why this became such a Big Thing.

I’m absolutely positive Nevermind is a hugely nostalgic album for a lot of us who grew up in the 90s but in my case it’s not even because of myself; my sister is to blame for that. She was a huge Nirvana fan and because we lived in adjacent rooms with a paper-thin wall separating our respective realms, the Nirvana catalogue became incredibly familiar and a part of the everyday soundtrack. I can’t say I liked the band at the time (the music tastes of my teenage sister and my prepubescent self were… different) but somehow Nirvana became a comfortable part of my everyday life. A shockingly large amount of their catalogue has been deeply engrained into my brain on a subconscious level and even though I only got into them myself much, much later down the line, I already feel like I’m a long-time fan just because of how familiar it all sounds.

Even though Nevermind is commonly viewed as the soundtrack of the misunderstood and disaffected youth of the early 90s, it feels more upbeat than anything particularly angry or melancholy - I’d actually call it a downright fun album for most parts, no matter the lyrical content (admittedly, Kurt’s joker off-record persona and grim sense of humour has really soiled their dark and brooding image for me, even though I fully know how tragically it all ended for him). It’s got the sound of a garage band having fun together, creating a lot of really noisy but really bouncy choruses to sing along to: if there’s one particular important factor in Cobain & co’s music, it’s how engaging to the listener it is. Nirvana only knew how to do a very few things (or at least they rarely got the chance to show their full range before the band’s end) but they performed those few tricks really well and, most importantly, with a lot of charisma. Whatever musical potholes there may be here and there, it’s Cobain’s charisma and presence that fills them and turns them into very satisfying moments of primal energy and teenage aggression. Nevermind’s songs are simple and they’re not particularly interesting lyrically but they’re inviting songs, highly resonant and quite often really fun. Even the rather somber “Polly” feels almost jovial in its over-the-top seriousness. The only really, genuinely melancholy moment of the album is “Something in the Way” at the very end and it is a really great song, one of the best on the album: completely at odds with the eleven tracks before it, but simultaneously acting as the one moment where the album’s darker undercurrents stop hiding behind catchy guitar racket.

Nevermind’s reputation precedes it and a lot more, lot better writers have done thinkpieces on its place in history and analysed its music, and it is worth all that for pop cultural reasons. It’s never cemented itself as a personal classic for me but it’s still a lot of good fun. It has its nostalgic vibes for me and it’s very vivid in how it represents its era of music, but ultimately it doesn’t cut very deep. Both the songs and the sound are fairly straightforward so there’s not much more to it than meets the eye and all in all it carries the vibe that in order to truly appreciate it, it has to have come into your life during a pivotal moment of your musical journey. I don’t want to downplay its charms though - when you’re in the mood for exactly what it offers it can be a riot, and rather amazingly its big hits still sound quite fresh in my ears. “Come as You Are”, “In Bloom”, “Lithium” and obviously “Smells Like Teen Spirit” are all modern rock classics and miles ahead anything else on the album. Even “Teen Spirit” has endured through all the radio overplay, the pointless covers and the amateur guitarist treatments, and still sounds just as vital as it always has been. It is utterly one of the defining songs of the 90s and the capsulation of all the teenage slacker apathy that we associate with the era, much more than any song of its generation.

A word on the 20th anniversary edition which I happen to own. It hosts the ideal set of bonus material you’d want with a release like it: all the studio b-sides, a selection of live cuts and a bunch of demos and alternative versions. However, the material here isn’t really all that exciting. The studio b-sides are all fairly dull and clear quality control outtakes and the live material works but doesn’t make a strong enough case for you to return to them actively. The second disc is devoted to various demos but given how Nevermind is a fairly straightforward set of songs with a simple production job in the first case, the demos are mainly just shoddily recorded versions of their album selves that aren’t worth the tim and the few non-album cuts that appear among the demos barely register. The one bright spot is the live version of “Something in the Way” hidden at the very end: the mournful cello of the studio cut is replaced by anguished guitar wailing and makes for an incredible alternative version that’s miles ahead anything else on the disc. Unless you’re a hardcore Nirvana maniac that lives and breathes for every note the band made, there won’t be anything else worth extended listening among the extras – casual fans are safe to skip these completely.

Rating: 7/10