Track #16: “I Will Dare” by The Replacements (1984)

Welcome to Track Chatter, where with each post we choose a different song to discuss in depth. This entry is part of an ongoing series in which we approach the 1980s through examinations of Heavy Metal and Indie music.

Aaron: With this entry we jump across the pond for our first look at an American contribution to the 1980s scenes we’ve been discussing – that seminal, rag-tag, punk/power-pop band from Minneapolis, The Replacements. And we’ve got a very special treat this time around – joining us for the discussion is my old friend Chris Dall, himself a resident of Minneapolis. More importantly, it was Chris more than anybody else who switched me on to the great indie music that had been coming out in the 1980s. And it was Chris, most definitely, who turned me into the ‘Mats fan that I remain today.

Lew and I will both take part in the conversation, but since Chris is our guest, we’ve asked him to choose the track up for discussion and to give it a brief introduction. So, Chris, what can you tell us about the song we’ll be talking about?

Chris: For my contribution to this blog and its examination of ‘80s musical genres, I’ve chosen the song “I Will Dare” by The Replacements, the band that, along with REM, introduced me to what was at the time called “Indie Rock.” I first became aware of The Replacements in 1986, when they released their first major label album, “Tim,” made a drunken appearance on Saturday Night Live, and by some accounts had already sold out. Knowing nothing about them but what was on that album, I immediately fell in love with their music. By the end of 1986 my cassette of “Tim” was pretty well worn, and I wanted to explore what had come before.

“I Will Dare” is a song from The Replacements’ 1984 album Let It Be, the third full album by the band’s original lineup: lead singer and songwriter Paul Westerberg, guitarist Bob Stinson, bassist Tommy Stinson, and drummer Chris Mars. Let It Be was the band’s last album on Twin/Tone records, a Minneapolis-based label that helped launch the Twin Cities music scene to national prominence. Many ‘Mats fans will tell you this is their best album, not simply because of the great songs it contains, but because it captures everything that their fans loved about them: their attitude, their sense of humor (they named the album Let It Be for gods sake), their sloppiness, and their ragged imperfection. Whether or not it’s their best album is a question for another day, but to me it is the album that truly encapsulates them. It’s a ragged, glorious, shambling mess, a musical stew of rockabilly, Clash-inspired punk, hardcore, metal, piano balladry, and even folk rock. It’s the sound of a band that had imbibed more than 30 years of American and English pop music history was hurling it back in the face of the MTV generation.  It’s kind of like a Replacements show, minus the alcohol.

That fact that Let It Be has no one song that really captures its essence makes it hard to select one song to write about, but I ultimately decided on the one that begins the album. What strikes me about “I Will Dare” is that on an album marked by shambling, unfocused sprawl, it is perhaps the most concise and complete song ever written by Paul Westerberg. At its core it’s really a simple song. There’s no bridge, just verses and chorus interrupted by a guitar solo (and a slightly off-key mandolin solo by none other than Peter Buck of REM), with a great shuffle beat driven by the drumming of Chris Mars and the bassline of Tommy Stinson. On first listen, the song sounds deceptively upbeat and jangly, but what comes through on repeated listens is the hard, punk edge of the bass and drums, with the driving overlay of the lead guitar mimicking the bass line. It’s punk rockabilly, raw and pure and vibrant. And lyrically, it has all the classic Westerberg themes: inadequacy masked by bravado. “How smart are you?/How dumb am I?/Don’t count any/of my advice.” And what makes this song great is that it sounds just as fresh today as it did when I first heard it.



But now to the question that this blog is taking up: where does it fit on the musical spectrum? It’s raw yet not completely unrefined, stripped down but not primitive, rough-edged but melodic. It’s not punk, nor is it New Wave. The Replacements were never either of those things, but they incorporated elements of those genres into their sound, both stylistically and attitudinally, and essentially grafted them onto what was a “classic rock” template. And to me that’s what Indie rock was essentially all about. Taking a lot of the musical influences of the past and creating something new by stripping the music down to guitar, bass, and drums and then layering on melody, spirit, and emotion. And it seemed then, as it still does today, to be a reaction to the musical excess of the MTV era.

So I’ll toss it now to Aaron and Lew: what do you guys make of “I Will Dare”?

Quick Take #2: REM - "It Happened Today" (2011)

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Quick Takes is an occasional column in which w choose any song that we’re currently listening to – old or new, pop or rock, jazz or folk or blues, or anything else under the sun that can be spun. One of us writes up a short paragraph on some of our general thoughts about the track, and our partner takes one paragraph to respond. The rest is up to you, dear reader.

For this entry, we consider the 2011 track “It Happened Today” by REM.

Aaron: When REM broke up last autumn, a lot of critics were quick to point out how their final album as a group, Collapse into Now, contained hints that the breakup was coming. Seems to be a spot-on observation, but the album is more about the band’s breakup. It seems to me, in a lot of ways, to be an album about REM . . . about being REM about being in REM and about what REM the band has been. This might seem like a vanity project if it were done so damned well. The album is littered with lyrics about singing songs and rhyming (as if Michael Stipe has ever cared about rhyming). There are lines about showing the kids what to do, songs about looking to the past, and songs about finally finding freedom in the present and comfort with oneself. There are songs with seemingly nonsensical lyrics, hearkening back to the early days of the band, songs with political themes, songs wherein Stipe takes on a persona and tells a story. And there are musical references to the first few albums, to Green and Out of Time era folk, to the rock of Monster, and to the more adventurous soundscapes of New Adventures . . . and Up. And, of course, there are those great Mike Mills harmonies, finally. In short, it’s a phenomenal album – certainly their best since New Adventures, and maybe since Automatic for the People. I hope it’s getting the listens it deserves.

For this entry, I’d just like to say a few songs about “It Happened Today.” I’m not sure it’s the best song on the album. There are songs with “deeper” lyrics, more interesting production, and probably more thoughtful melodies. But this song just works for me. First of all, there are only two short verses, and they almost come across as jokes. I’ll just quote the first one: “This is not a parable. / This is a terrible . . . / this is a terrible thing. / Yes I will rhyme that after / after all I’ve done today / I have earned my wings. / It happened today.” The next verse isn’t much different. The song never says what the “it” that happened today is, but it’s something joyous enough that the singer feels he’s earned his wings and earned his voice. There’s a lot packed into those two little verses about singing, about liberation, and also about being silly. I’ve managed to get it in my head that the song is about Stipe’s decision to quit the band and the massive sense of release and freedom that comes with it – that’s probably WAY off. But whatever it is that “happened today,” it’s major enough that Stipe, Mills, and Eddie Vedder spend the final two and a half minutes of the song singing wordlessly in what only sounds like a celebration. As slight as it is, the song does what REM often does so well – compact a shit-ton of emotion and potential meaning into a song that at first seems like nothing but slight whimsy.

What do you think, Lew? All my romanticizing aside . . . anything to like about this song?