The Liquid Room is already humming when the lights go down.
There is an anticipation in the room that feels less like a conventional concert and more like the promise of something slightly improbable. Then Michael Shannon walks onto the stage in red cords, colourful Converse and a shirt covered in tiny red hands. It’s an arresting entrance for an Oscar-nominated actor, but tonight he is not here to inhabit one of the outsiders, misfits, or troubled characters who have populated his screen career; he’s here to sing R.E.M.
Shannon is rarely still. He completely inhabits the songs. He points into the crowd, grips a loudspeaker and sings through it, his eyes often squeezed tightly shut as though the words require intense concentration. At other moments he is animated and loose, throwing himself into the songs with the physical intensity you might expect from an actor who has spent much of his career communicating through body language as much as dialogue.
The setting feels fitting. R.E.M. came of age in small rooms, college bars and clubs where songs travelled by word of mouth before the band became an international phenomenon. There is an attention to detail in the band that goes beyond learning the songs. Dag Juhlin plays a Rickenbacker, immediately bringing Peter Buck to mind. Dressed in a contrasting white shirt and black Converse All Stars, even the clothes and choice of instruments seem to belong to the world of R.E.M.
The project has grown organically from Shannon and Jason Narducy’s shared love of R.E.M., and has received the blessing of the band themselves, with Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Mike Mills and Bill Berry all having appeared with the project at different points.
The first set concentrates on Life’s Rich Pageant, R.E.M.’s 1986 album. We are never going to see R.E.M. perform it live again, but in this small Edinburgh venue there is a fleeting sense of what it might have been like to encounter the band just as they were beginning to outgrow the American college circuit, before they became one of the biggest groups in the world. ‘Fall on Me’ provides an early rush, its chiming melody and irresistible chorus transporting the room back to 1986.
There is something almost strange about hearing it here, performed with the enthusiasm of discovery rather than the familiarity of nostalgia.
‘Cuyahoga’ takes a darker, more muscular turn. Named after the Ohio River that famously caught fire because of pollution, it carries the environmental concerns of Life’s Rich Pageant into the present without needing to underline the point. There is an irresistible piece of symmetry surrounding ‘Superman’. Shannon was once asked about playing the song, having already played General Zod in Man of Steel. Whatever the reason, hearing him finally sing it feels worth the wait.
The second set opens the door further into R.E.M.’s catalogue. ‘Fretless’, recorded during the Out of Time sessions, is a particularly welcome deep cut, evidence that this is being performed by people who know the catalogue beyond the obvious songs. ‘E-Bow the Letter’ changes the dynamic, with Jason Narducy taking the vocal role originally occupied by Patti Smith. Some excellent three-part harmonies appear throughout the evening, adding another dimension to the material and capturing the communal quality that was always part of R.E.M.’s appeal.
‘The Great Beyond’ and the song’s sense of wonder are undiminished by the years. It’s augmented by Shannon telling the audience about climbing Arthur’s Seat with the song in his head. By now the room has surrendered completely; on the balcony, fans jump up and down with glee. It is the kind of unguarded response that tells you how deeply these songs have travelled with people throughout their lives. ‘Crush With Eyeliner’ feels like an indie dancefloor rock crossover classic, its guitars pushing against a groove made for a crowded club. It is a reminder of how adventurous R.E.M. could be, and how easily these songs can step outside their original period when played with this much energy.
‘Radio Free Europe’ takes us back to the beginning, summing up a golden time when R.E.M. were still an emerging force, their music travelling through college radio and word of mouth before the machinery of success. They finish with ‘Star 69’, sending the Liquid Room audience into the night with one final burst of energy. We know we will never see R.E.M. perform these songs live again.
For one night in Edinburgh, Shannon, Narducy and friends offer the next best thing: not an imitation of R.E.M., but a vivid reminder of what it might have felt like when these songs were still new.
