And so on to the third and final single from the tragedy that was/is Reveal, the absolute nadir of R.E.M.’s career at that point. To be fair, there wasn’t a great deal to choose from, and whatever was picked wasn’t exactly going to reignite interest in the album among fans old or new. So on 19th November 2001, the six-minute I’ll Take The Rain was released in the UK.
I know some R.E.M. fans who adore this song. I also know others who hate it intensely. The haters point to what they deem to be a somewhat lackadaisical sound, like the band were weary and couldn’t even be arsed to try. They may also argue it sounds like the type of power ballad R.E.M. resolutely avoided throughout their career, and of the lyrics being banal and trite. The lovers, on the other hand, accuse the haters of missing the point, of not understanding the raw emotion of the song, its understated approach coming from the vulnerability of the protagonist being asked to make a choice between the lesser of two evils.
Of course, being me, I’m neither a lover nor a hater. When I first heard Reveal, this was one of only two songs that really stood out as being likeable (the other, if you were wondering, was I’ve Been High, which remains one of the band’s very best post-Berry moments IMO). It’s certainly a better single than the other two and infinitely superior to the songs that bookend it on the album – the dreadful Beachball and Chorus And the Ring (two of the very worst moments of R.E.M.’s entire career).
It’s a nice enough song, if you’re willing to forgive the use of the word ‘nice’ – not a word I ever use to describe music in a positive manner – but it is. I’m willing to accept it’s too long though, which is why I’m offering up the rare radio edit for you today – never commercially issued.
No real surprise here that the single only reached #44 in the UK charts, but it certainly wasn’t helped by the choice of formats available. The only real draw for hardcore collectors (and at this point I still bought the singles) was the promise of an unreleased track on one of the two CD singles issued. Except that with a title like 32 Chord Song it sounded like it would be yet another throwaway instrumental studio jam that was never considered worthy of finishing.
Worse than that, it’s merely a demo of the track that would appear on Reveal as Summer Turns To High. So not a new or unreleased track at all, just an early version of an average album track (from a below average album) with its working title.
Two live tracks graced the other CD, both songs from Reveal. One of them was the aforementioned I’ve Been High. The album version is a beautiful, keyboard led ballad with a sweet, lilting melody that Stipe really puts his heart into. It’s a very un-R.E.M. song which, at this point in their career, was probably not a bad thing at all. This live version recorded in Sydney, Australia for music TV station Channel V, is, well, OK. It’s basically Stipe singing over Buck’s acoustic guitar. The unique loveliness of the album version is absent, but it’s still passable.
Finally, recorded live at the Museum of Television and Radio, NYC, She Just Wants To Be.
This was, along with The Lifting, one of two Reveal tracks played regularly during the Up tour two years earlier. On the album the verses are stripped back to voice, acoustic guitar, bass and drums with the chorus throwing all that other muck that Reveal suffered from into the mix, which totally ruins what could have been a half-decent mid-tempo song. Live, thankfully, it’s kept much simpler, and this version isn’t very different to what we heard on the previous tour.
So there we have it, a rather understated way to soundtrack the formal ending of my love affair with R.E.M., at least in the passionate, loyal sense that it used to be. I’ll Take The Rain was a song about making a very difficult choice, neither option of which the protagonist could take with any real optimism. I didn’t have that problem. Both R.E.M. and The White Stripes made it very easy for me. As I settled into a new life in Wales, Jack and Meg moved in with me to soundtrack my early years as an Englishman in Newport. I’d left R.E.M. behind. Or so I thought. There was still a bit of flirting from my old flames in the years to come…