R.E.M.
Around the Sun
Warner Brothers

R.E.M. fans have strong opinions — which albums are classics and which suck, the particular moment the band started its decline and whether it's been any good since. Not that they agree about any of it; what's vintage to one is the worst ever to another, and no two top-song lists are more than half alike. Guitarist Peter Buck's own favorite, New Adventures in Hi-Fi, tends to be overlooked in the catalog, while the band itself has little love for the widely adored Fables of the Reconstruction.

One thing all can agree on, fans and band members alike, is that R.E.M. hasn't been the same since Bill Berry left. Even eight years after the drummer's abrupt retirement, publicity shots of Michael Stipe, Mike Mills and Buck walking three abreast seem a little odd, as if a fourth had been airbrushed out. Their decision to continue without him left some followers feeling like the children of a remarried widower, betrayed that R.E.M. would even consider getting on with the pursuit of happiness without old Bill (who meanwhile was happily baling hay on his farm).

Adapting to life as a threesome has been easier said than done. The phantom pain of the lost limb overshadowed the first two albums released after Berry's departure: Up, a document of the anger, confusion and fear of a band in transition, and Reveal, a slick professional announcement that they were officially "All Better" (though no less defined by his absence). Each had its moments — the glorious pop of "Imitation of Life," the Brian Wilson croon of "At My Most Beautiful" — but neither was likely to supplant Automatic for the People or Murmur in the rotation.

For fans who've hung in there, hopes for the new album have been high; the stakes are so much greater when they come only once evey two or three years. Three new songs released last year, the protests "Final Straw" and "Bad Day" and the psychedelic workout "Animal," suggested a return to rock after the midtempo noodlings of the recent past. Last year's tour was the band's most extensive and high-energy since the mid-'90s. On the day in 1988 when George H. W. Bush was elected president, R.E.M. released Green, featuring the blistering "Turn You Inside Out" and "Orange Crush"; now Stipe is madder than a wet hen about the war in Iraq and out for the blood of Bush II. Like the man said, bring it on!

Into this heat of expectation, freighted with baggage, arrives Around the Sun, R.E.M.'s 13th album. Well? Is it any good?

First things first. Around the Sun is no more rocking than the last two, and perhaps less, tending to midtempo ballads and anthems with a few laid-back grooves along the way. It will never be mistaken for Golden Age R.E.M. Many fans will hate it; more than a few critics are already on record doing so, sighing in disappointed judgment of a once-great band reduced to weary coasting. But it's a little early in the game to have formed such strong views.

While early R.E.M. was easy to fall in love with on first listen, the post-Berry albums have all taken time to sink in. The first few times through Around the Sun, what stands out is the sameness among the songs: acoustic guitar too far back in the mix and vocals right up front, swaying rhythms, plenty of electronic filigree around a basically traditional classic-rock sound. As the songs unfold over multiple listens, though, what becomes clear is that R.E.M. still has plenty to say, and plenty of interesting ways to say it.

As advertised, Around the Sun is R.E.M.'s most political record in a long time. "Final Straw" is back, with its earnest echoes of Lisa Simpson singing to strikers at the Springfield nuclear plant. "The Outsiders" portrays dissidents gathering to sketch their plans with burnt cork on a tablecloth. But whereas the band in its younger days expressed straightforward positions, albeit cryptically, on clear-cut issues like El Salvador and air pollution, Around the Sun presents a more personal and complex response to a nation under siege.

"Leaving New York," the first single, opens the album with noncommittal minor arpeggios and wary vocals before blossoming into the kind of sweeping chorus the band does best. The city's name carries inevitable connotations these days, but the song deals less with world events than things not said to someone no longer there, and how "It's easier to leave than to be left behind." Mentions of shattered glass and mercury suggest one reason for the parting, but it's not the only possibility, allowing a universality beyond the scope of more explicit protests. On the plainspoken end of the spectrum, "Final Straw" is still as much about forgiveness as defiance; that's a long way from Document's "Welcome to the Occupation." (A route some wish the band would retrace, but that's another matter).

"Boy in the Well" takes a more direct approach in decrying repression, but again, the experience of the individual takes precedence over policy statements.

It's that sinking feeling. you know what it's bringing on./ you might as well say it,/ I see it, I feel it./ this town is going wrong./ it's turning away.

Though few would describe Around the Sun as eclectic on first listen, the subtleties and details that emerge over time reveal great diversity in sound and subject. The band's darker side is present on several songs, as is its goofy side (though, relievedly, not the willfully atonal side responsible for good-for-you numbers like "Saturn Returns," "You're In the Air" and "Hairshirt.") They even find room for their first rapper cameo in more than a decade, though what Q-Tip does on "The Outsiders" is as much singing as rapping.

Since Berry left, R.E.M. has had a hard time coming up with melodies as compelling as his "Man on the Moon." This time, the band delivers one solid tune after another, and Stipe handles them with dynamic range and intensity well beyond the fragile courage of Up and the careful control of Reveal. Meanwhile, latest drummer Bill Rieflin, a refugee of industrial giants Ministry, is more than enough for an album where drums play the least important part. The band as a whole sounds comfortable and confident, its chops in the best shape in years thanks to last year's tour.

The songwriting on Around the Sun is ambitious and self-assured, possibly thanks to Bono, whom Stipe credits for bringing him back to a more fluid, spontaneous work method. Several songs strive for the kind of timeless, quintessentially American moments you'd find in something by the Band or Gram Parsons, and they come remarkably close. Of these, the most beautiful might be "I Wanted to Be Wrong" — again, a comment on the state of the nation, but also a confession of the troubled heart of a patriot.

now I know that the sun has shined on my side of the street./ the basket of America, the weevils and the wheat. / the milk and honeyed congregation, scrubbed and apple-cheeked/ salute Apollo 13 from the rattle jewelry seats.

mythology's seductive and it turned a trick on me/ that I have just begun to understand.
I told you I wanted to be wrong,/ but everyone is humming a song/ that I don't understand.

Even the weakest songs on "Around the Sun" aren't all that bad. Maybe "Make It All Okay" sounds like a Wings B-side, but is that so wrong? The jaunty novelty tune "Wanderlust" sounds less dorky and eccentric every time through (except that line about kissing astronauts). The skip button might not come into play at all.

Around the Sun isn't for everyone, of course. Every R.E.M. fan has a perfect aural image of the record they wish the band would make. Many will be disappointed by anything else; to them, sorry and better luck next time. But those willing and able to hear the record R.E.M. chose to make may find that Around the Sun makes a strong case for a starting position in the rotation. Rumors of the band's death were greatly exaggerated. One way or another, R.E.M. is back.

— J. Daniel Janzen (jdaniel at flakmag dot com)