The Replacements - Dead Man's Pop (2019)
Right, so I've had a chance to get to grips with this leviathan set (1Lp, 4Cds & booklet) and the best way to tackle it is by ignoring the LP since my equipment isn't up to serious playback; instead, I'll look at the album as it 1st came out in 1988 under the title Don't Tell A Soul.
On the heels then of their "big label" debut album, Pleased To Meet Me, The Replacements were at something of a crossroads; the big label (Sire/Warner) threw a bag of money at the guys, expecting the results to yield them [many] sacksful back: the band had "baggage" of being wild and difficult to work with; lynchpin Westerberg was feeling his 30 years old, and was torn between the commercial suicide of growing up and how long the juvenile hi-jinx would remain credible; (the band's ages ranged from 7 years his junior to 7 years his senior....)
Trying to accommodate this, the band were sent to Bearsville Studios in upstate New York to work on their new album; about as isolate a place as could be, away from distractions (booze) with an unknown producer Tony Berg. From the account in the accompanying booklet, there were 10 productive days before "cabin fever" set in and blazing rows through the complex that even frightened Metallica who were there to mix ...And Justice For All. That anything was salvaged from these sessions is nothing short of miraculous as Westerberg doesn't write down lyrics and such, and the band has been known to literally ditch tapes in the a river if not satisfied.
However, "round 2" of recording the new album, with another untested producer moved to Cherokee Studios in Hollywood, and things more-or-less fell into place; not that the band were much better behaved, but a boozy, late-night session with Tom Waits was very much a highlight. recording ended with vocal sessions being done at Capital studios. The bitter-pill in the album's gestation is that being "untested" at the time, Warners didn't trust Matt Wallace to mix the sessions (though he shortly had a massive breakthrough with Faith No More). Instead, they handed it over to Chris Lord-Algy, who, to be fair, didn't do a bad job on what became Don't Tell A Soul, but in smoothing out the imperfections (of which there were many) to make it radio friendly (the band had a life-time ban on NBC), it didn't really work and lumbered it with a sound that was dated by 1990.
Fast-forward to 2015, and while clearing the garage at former guitarist Slim Dunlap, the master-tape of Wallace's hurried mixing of the album (at Paisley Park, MN) was found, and that's what gives the 1st CD here it's title, describing the sort of music The replacements were [then] playing, Dead Man's Pop was a throwaway comment from Westerberg. This is the same 12 tracks as the Lord-Algy mix, but way different, and not in the revised running order. One one playthrough, it reminds me of Exile On Main Street in it's rawness and the breadth of styles therein. The opening “Talent Show” is perhaps the greatest improvement—Westerberg’s vocal is naked, the drums are reserved, and it comes over more like a studio jam than something assembled from individual parts; the common thread is that the guitars are cleaner, the vocals are clearer, and previously buried fills come to the surface, like the banjo in “Talent Show.” And ending the set with “Rock and Roll Ghost” after opening with “Talent Show” gives it a nice thematic frame, an innocent band taking a stab at one end and a fading relic thinking about the past at the other.
The next disc to look at, the second disc of the box contains work from the disastrous aborted Berg sessions, recorded in Bearsville, New York. It’s hard to get a sense of where the record might have gone from the evidence here; they are basically full-band demos of unfinished songs. While it’s enjoyable to hear “Achin’ to Be,” “I’ll Be You,” and “We’ll Inherit the Earth” in these versions, they sound more like run-throughs. Westerberg delivers the lyrics almost offhandedly. Two outtakes, both of which landed on the expanded Don’t Tell a Soul, are the best thing about the sessions by far—the countrified “Portland,” which is fantastic, and the jittery rocker “Wake Up.” The six tracks taken from a drunken late-night session with Tom Waits [he was a fan of the band], and Westerberg of him—are of historical interest only. The two sound completely trashed and can barely play or even speak, a reminder it’s not always a tragedy when songs stay in the vault; but what could have been, had someone switched on the coffee-filter...?
The Replacements were not greatly served by any sort of "Live" product, unless you caught one of their shows. So far as the UK was served, I think I've seen one track from a 1986 Whistle Test appearance; their chaotic reputation went before them, not many TV studios wanted to be descended upon by a gang of [usually] drunken pirates? However, for the box set, we are treated to the full concert from June 1989 in Milwaukee. To get the full show, a lot of excess noises from the stage has been masterfully cleaned up, without losing the band's raggedy edges making the performance bristle with energy.
The band struggled on for one more album after this, and while you can see how they lost out to the likes of R.E.M. who had a more focused vision and faith in their direction, you can see what spurred the likes of Green Day on to acclaim; The Replacements just seemed to fall in the gaps. While the hardly made a big splash in the US and barely a ripple in the UK, when they pulled together, they were a match for anyone.
Final part to consider in the set is the accompanying booklet, the story of recording Don't Tell A Soul or Dead man's Pop (your choice). This reads like a script proposal for a movie, and I believe it got a Grammy for sleeve notes itself. They say, there are some stories you couldn't write, Bob Mehr did a bang up job of this...
When life gives you lemons; don't make lemonade.
Give back the lemons. Why were the lemons free? What's wrong with the lemons?
Do Not trust the lemons...
