As much as the release of the Replacements’ Tim on Sire Records caused consternation among their ever-so-independent fans, the first release of the Minnesota ne’er do wells’ work on a major label ultimately served as a gateway to the quartet’s best records. The Let It Bleed Edition offers a perspective on the group’s fourth studio album that clarifies the effort as an even sharper turning point than it first seemed: as they endured the flak arising from their move from the indie-label world of Twin/Tone to the larger universe of Seymour Stein’s Sire Records–already inhabited Talking Heads and Ramones, among other notables– the group also underwent significant personnel and management changes that mirrored the marked changes in their music.
To that end, the varied content of this discerning retrospective (missing only the lyrics to the eleven songs as released in 1985) comes enclosed in a 12 x 12 hardcover book with a plethora of photos depicting the foursome’s inherent disinclination towards formality, plus an exhaustive (exhausting?) prose history of the era written by Bob Mehr, co-producer of the archival endeavor and author of Trouble Boys: The True Story of The Replacements. In its own way, the assembly and retooling involved in this dispassionate yet detailed revisitation of Tim is as cogent a piece of work as the original record.
LP: Tim (Ed Stasium Mix) – Argue the nostalgia factor of vinyl and/or its sonic superiority (or lack thereof), but there’s no denying the clumsiness of the format when it comes to Tim. Notwithstanding the virtues of Ed Stasium’s lush remix, the necessity of flipping the record over interrupts the cumulative momentum of these eleven tracks. Nevertheless, it’s a revelation to hear how the guitar solo in “I’ll Buy” dovetails neatly back into the song’s chord progression, while hearing voices chant the title of “Waitress in the Sky” conjures thoughts of the ‘Mats all sitting in their plane seats taunting the object of their fascination. “Here Comes A Regular” would still pack plenty of emotion on its own terms, but the resonance of the song itself and the performance haunts all the more deeply as a summary of self-deprecating ambivalence and frank soul-searching.
CD 1: Tim (Ed Stasium Mix) – In revealing even more detail than the remastering of the original mix, Ed Stasium lays out an aural landscape that corresponds to the rocky emotional terrain Replacements’ chief songwriter Paul Westerberg was navigating with original songs following directly from 1984’s final Twin/Tone release Let It Be. The slightly camouflaged bitterness in “Little Mascara” is no less lethal than the latent disrespect behind the comedic tone of “Waitress in the Sky.” And however much guitarist Bob Stinson was becoming estranged from his bandmates, he does his solo duty with a gleeful vengeance on “Bastards of Young:” in fact, his contributions epitomize the mix of noise and nuance in the Replacements’ musicianship at its best. And far from rendering impersonal the precarious bond of the quartet, this engineer who also worked with prominent Sire labelmates captures the spontaneous unity the group brought to bear in testing the poise, patience, and professionalism of business partners and audiences alike.
CD 2: Tim (2023 Remaster) – Credit where credit is due to Tommy Ramone for his mix as the original producer, this remastering by Justin Perkins of Mystery Room Mastering allows more space between guitars and voices without undercutting the indefatigable rhythm section. Bassist Tommy Stinson and drummer Chris Mars found a middle ground between polish and anarchy that suited the collection of increasingly perceptive and self-aware songs Paul Westerberg was writing. And in one of the most bitter ironies in a career full of them, the Replacements benefited from the chief composer and vocalist playing much of the guitar during the sessions while Bob was absent (for all but five tracks): as on his slide and rhythm work for “Lay It Down Clown,” Paul layered on the lines without colliding with his bandmates, even when all three were careening through “Hold My Life.”
CD 3: Sons Of No One: Rare And Unreleased – Six of these fifteen cuts appeared on the 2008 expanded edition of Tim, but their placement in this context, right next to the earliest cuts produced by the one-time linchpin of Big Star (and Westerberg’s hero), Alex Chilton, is hardly redundant. On the contrary, if these demos and alternate takes prove anything, it’s that the Replacements were intent on making a statement with their major label debut. The electric demo of “Can’t Hardly Wait”–which ultimately appeared on the next LP 1987’s Please to Meet Me–may recall the Clash’s second album, Give ‘Em Enough Rope, but then there’s the cello version of the number that evokes its longing in tangible form. Solo acoustic cuts might’ve been placed in a more conventional sense, but taking note of the alternate version of “Swingin’ Party” as well as Tommy’s original “Having Fun,” every track to some extent illustrates how many ideas the group had to choose from.
CD 4: Not Ready For Prime Time – This soundboard recording made by the band’s live mixer, the late Monty Lee Wilkes, presents seventy-some minutes of the Replacements performing live at Chicago’s Cabaret Metro in January of the same year as its ostensible companion piece, 2017’s Live At Maxwell’s 1986. Rather than confront their audience, the ‘Mats call for requests and surreptitiously spring artful moments upon the attendees, interweaving older tunes like “Gary’s Got A Boner” and “Tommy Got His Tonsils Out” with the more lucid likes of “I Will Dare” and “Color Me Impressed,” plus “Bastards of Young” from Tim. And, as the foursome proceeds through twenty-eight selections at a breathless pace, the progression of their work emerges: notwithstanding the dollop of kitsch that is Vanity Fare’s “Hitchin’ A Ride,” the inclusion of the Beatles’ “Nowhere Man” and the Rolling Stones’ “Honky Tonk Women” illuminates just how Westerberg’s later writing, not to mention the band’s playing, could favorably compare to that of the icons they so admired.
