After attending the National/Modest Mouse/REM show this past Sunday, I’ve realized I have a love/hate relationship with older bands, especially ones like REM who are still making music in spite of having had their major commercial success over a decade ago. The major problem I have with these shows is that they can rarely ever exceed my expectations or surprise me in any way. There are a few exceptions to the rule (Bjork, Bowie and Nine Inch Nails; I don’t count the Pixies because they will [hopefully] never make a new album together), but generally the shows proceed as follows, from best to worst:

1. Band meets expectations: limited newer material, good mix of radio hits and old album favourites

2. Band plays satisfying set: most, if not all, radio singles played, one or two more obscure album tracks, the rest new material

3. Bands plays mediocre set: major radio singles and new material only

4. REM

I’ve never seen a band with so much pop appeal mixed with alternative cred get so upstaged by their openers. The National played a solid, Boxer-heavy set that impressed me, as usual, and warmed over some of the crowd. Modest Mouse got some people dancing, and it was clear that the younger set at the show was there to see them, for the most part, and for good reason. This was the second time I had seen them live and they were amazing. REM was lucky to have both bands, really, ’cause Michael Stipe and his band certainly weren’t worth the price of admission.

Granted, REM played very well. They’re all technically skilled and Michael Stipe is an active and charismatic frontman. But please, spare me the new album. Everyone bloody well knows it’s middle-of-the-road at best and they played pretty much the WHOLE DAMN THING. It was Smashing Pumpkins at V-Fest all over again, but with a Hurricane Katrina protest song instead of an sped-up version of “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”. I really think that older artists can put out amazing albums after they’ve hit big in the past. The only ones I can think of right now are female solo artists (Loretta Lynn’s Van Lear Rose, Robyn’s self-titled, Vashti Bunyan’s Lookaftering) and a rock legend who lucked out with an amazing take on “Cactus” (David Bowie’s Heathen), but REM have been pumping out gar-bahj adult-contempo since Up and the new album is just more of the same. And, to make matters worse, they only played 4 of their major hits:”The One I Love” and “Orange Crush”, which are almost the same song, “Losing My Religion” and “Man on the Moon”. That’s right folks, no “It’s The End of the World as We Know It”, no “The Great Beyond”, no “Shiny Happy People” and the real kicker: no “Everybody Hurts”. I don’t condone the idea that an artist should have to to sacrifice their vision for whatever reason, especially for mass appeal, but if you’re putting out a mediocre album to fulfill a contractual obligation the least you can do is not bore your audience by promoting it in concert. We’ve already bought the tickets, now give us our damn hits. The attempt to distract us with wacky visual tricks on the big screen behind you never really fools anyone (and all these fucking bands try it like we’ll be fucking impressed. Wanna impress your fans? Learn to build a goddamn setlist. The Arcade Fire can do it with 50% garbage material and make it into one of the best shows I’ve ever seen, why can’t REM?)

On a completely tangential English major geek note, the tornado warnings and thunderstorms during the concert followed by a rather vivid rainbow and the desire to get the hell out of the Amphitheatre during the REM show made me think of The Wizard of Oz, and stories of that ilk, and the strange gender politics that operate in such narratives. You know the story: precocious child is whisked off to another world one way or another, makes friends, fights evil, and then it somehow it ends. It dawned on me that the outcome of the story is generally predetermined based on the gender of the child in question.

Usually, the boys become rulers, warrior kings who, if they do ending up returning back to their home world, overcome their chlidhood bully or major fear because of the grand journey they took. When it comes to the girls, however, we get heroines who realize “there’s no place like home” and decide to stick close to the homestead. There is also this weird disparity between the psychological effects upon either gender: the boys tend to accept and internalize their adventure and use it as a stepping stone for personal, real-life development. The girls tend to speak of their journey more openly, only to be more openly scrutinized, told it was mere fantasy. Then, usually, as with Dorothy in Return to Oz, they have trouble letting go and the parent figures go as far as to question the girl’s sanity. I think the only real exception to this rule that I’ve seen is was Youko from The Twelve Kingdoms series, but the fact that she remains in her alternate world might imply a complete disassociation from reality. If these narratives really are about a child’s regression into fantasy to gain acceptance or control over their surroundings, doesn’t remaining in that realm mean they’ve failed to learn anything from their role-playing and fantasy? If that’s the case, then the fact that the Oz series has so many chapters is disconcerting to say the least, what with Dorothy slipping back into her fantasy world so completely and so often, disassociating completely only to return to her disapproving but probably just protective adoptive parents. I hope Auntie Em has a good drug plan.