REM - Up (Warner Bros) Those who yearn for a second helping of The One I Love, or The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite: stick with the back catalogue. However, those who believe REM's previous three albums are ethereal and brilliant read on. This one simply ups the standards of the music world altogether. Up is the logical next step for the Georgian bunch, furthering the stark solemnity of Automatic For The People and New Adventures In Hi-fi. In Up, it is obvious they are no longer shiny, happy people. It deals with the futility of life, in Airportman and Daysleeper; human paranoia, in Sad Professor; the schizophrenic lover in Diminished; or the freakishly obsessive in The Apologist. The music is serene. Airportman, which opens the album, sets the tone: Michael Stipe's meanderings float amid the mellotron and guitar drone, all over a sonic canvas, reminiscent of Brian Eno. Losing drummer Bill Berry surely broke the trio's hearts, but it also helped them open new dimensions.
