R.E.M. – IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT (AND I FEEL FINE)

Publicació: 16 de novembre de 1987

Llistes: EUA: núm. 69 · Regne Unit: núm. 39

“It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”, primer senzill del cinquè àlbum d’estudi del grup, “Document”, va arribar al número 69 del Billboard Hot 100 i més tard va escalar fins al número 39 de la llista britànica de s després de la seva reedició el 1991.

Construïda al voltant d’una interpretació vocal vertiginosa de Michael Stipe, la cançó es llegeix com un somni transcrit a tota velocitat. Fa referència a un quartet de figures que comparteixen les inicials “L.B.” —Leonard Bernstein, Leonid Brejnev, Lenny Bruce i Lester Bangs—, una seqüència que Stipe va revelar més tard que provenia directament d’un somni. “Era a la festa d’aniversari de Lester Bangs”, va explicar el 1992, “i jo era l’única persona allà les inicials de la qual no eren L.B.”

Stipe va descriure la cançó com una “col·lecció de fluxos de consciència”, extreta de la sobrecàrrega sensorial de la vida quotidiana —fragments de notícies, televisió, somnis i deixalles culturals que col·lideixen constantment dins del seu cap. “Les paraules surten de tot arreu”, va dir. “Soc extremadament conscient de tot el que m’envolta, tant si estic despert, adormit o en algun punt entremig.”

Musicalment, la cançó canalitza “Subterranean Homesick Blues” de Bob Dylan, un altre clàssic de jocs verbals accelerats que va inspirar el ritme vocal de Stipe. Fins i tot va parodiar Dylan en un film underground anomenat “Just Like a Movie” anys abans, un gest de la seva fascinació pel foc verbal del bard.

Pel que fa a la lletra, el tema oscil·la entre l’humor i la revelació. La frase inicial —“That’s great; it starts with an earthquake” (“Genial; comença amb un terratrèmol”)— evoca tant la imatgeria bíblica del Llibre de l’Apocalipsi com el pànic absurd, saturat pels mitjans, dels temps moderns. Tal com Stipe ha admès en més d’una ocasió, durant molt temps l’han perseguit somnis d’apocalipsis, ciutats en ruïnes i finals. Aquí, però, hi troba alliberament —calma dins del caos.

La cançó va començar la seva vida com una demo anterior de R.E.M. titulada “Bad Day”, una peça políticament carregada escrita durant els anys de Reagan. Tot i que el grup va abandonar aquella versió a favor de “End of the World”, la idea original va ressorgir el 2003, quan R.E.M. finalment va publicar “Bad Day” al recopilatori “In Time: The Best of R.E.M. 1988–2003”.

“It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” és un col·lapse joiós, un atac de pànic convertit en poesia pop. En un món que constantment sembla a punt d’esfondrar-se, la seva tornada continua sent una ironia desafiant: “And I feel fine” (“I em sento bé”).

R.E.M. - IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT (AND I FEEL FINE) 

Released: November 16, 1987

Charts: US: #69  UK: #39 

“It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”, first single on the group’s fifth studio album, “Document”, reached No. 69 on the Billboard Hot 100 and later climbed to No. 39 on the UK Singles Chart after its 1991 re-release.

Built around a rapid-fire vocal delivery from Michael Stipe, the song reads like a dream transcribed at high speed. It name-checks a quartet of figures who share the initials “L.B.” — Leonard Bernstein, Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce, and Lester Bangs — a sequence that Stipe later revealed came directly from a dream. “I was at Lester Bangs’ birthday party,” he told in 1992, “and I was the only person there whose initials weren’t L.B.”

Stipe described the song as a “collection of streams of consciousness,” drawn from the sensory overload of daily life — fragments of news, television, dreams, and cultural detritus all colliding in his head. “The words come from everywhere,” he said. “I’m extremely aware of everything around me, whether I’m awake, asleep, or somewhere in between.”

Musically, the song channels Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues”, another rapid-wordplay classic that inspired Stipe’s vocal rhythm. He even spoofed Dylan in an underground film called Just Like a Movie years earlier, a nod to his fascination with the bard’s verbal fire.

Lyrically, the track toggles between humor and revelation. The opening line — “That’s great; it starts with an earthquake” — evokes both the biblical imagery of the Book of Revelation and the absurd, media-saturated panic of modern times. As Stipe once admitted, he’s long been haunted by dreams of apocalypse, ruined cities, and endings. Here, he finds liberation in them — the calm in chaos.

The song began life as an earlier R.E.M. demo titled “Bad Day,” a politically charged track written during the Reagan years. Although the band abandoned that version in favor of “End of the World”, the original idea resurfaced in 2003, when R.E.M. finally released “Bad Day” on their retrospective In Time: The Best of R.E.M. 1988–2003.

“It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” it’s a joyful collapse, a panic attack turned into pop poetry. In a world that constantly feels on the brink, its refrain still rings with wry defiance: “And I feel fine.”

R.E.M. - (DON’T GO BACK TO) ROCKVILLE

Released: October 16, 1984

Album: Reckoning

When R.E.M. released “(Don’t Go Back to) Rockville” in 1984 as the second and final single from their album “Reckoning”, the song didn’t make a dent on the charts. It failed to appear on either the Billboard Hot 100 or the UK Singles Chart. Yet over time, this heartfelt track—part love letter, part lament—became a fan favorite and a cornerstone of the band’s early years, illustrating the tenderness and small-town melancholy that made R.E.M. so relatable in the 1980s.

The song was written by bassist Mike Mills, though credited, as was the band’s custom, to all four members of R.E.M. Mills composed it as a plea to his then-girlfriend Ingrid Schorr, asking her not to leave Athens, Georgia, to return home to Rockville, Maryland. At the time, both were students at the University of Georgia, and their relationship was just beginning when summer loomed and Schorr’s parents insisted she come home.

According to Schorr, the inspiration for the song came one night at a local Athens club called Tyrone’s, as the couple talked about her impending departure. “I finally meet a girl I like and she’s got to go back to Rockville,” Mills reportedly said. That offhand remark became the emotional nucleus of the song.

Schorr herself later reflected on the song with warmth and humor. Writing in Hermenaut magazine, she explained, “The lyrics, like their author, are endearingly straightforward. The song isn’t so much about me as about my taking off for some other place, leaving him behind: ‘I know it might sound strange but I believe you’ll be coming back before too long.’”

Schorr did, in fact, return to Rockville for the summer—but she came back to Athens, completed her journalism degree, and eventually built a career in the arts, working for Brandeis University. She has since expressed amusement at the various myths surrounding her and the song’s origin that have circulated among fans.

Originally, “Rockville” had a punk/thrash arrangement, according to guitarist Peter Buck. But for the album recording, the band reimagined it in a country-inspired style—partly, Buck said, as a joke aimed at their manager Bertis Downs, who wasn’t a fan of country music. The humor backfired beautifully: the song’s gentle twang, jangling guitars, and plaintive harmonies turned it into one of R.E.M.’s most tender early works. While Michael Stipe sings lead on the studio version, Mills took over lead vocals in many live performances.

The lyrics portray Rockville as a grim, factory-filled place—“full-time filth,” as Stipe sings—but that’s pure fiction. In reality, Rockville is a well-off suburb of Washington, D.C. Still, for a restless college kid in love, it represented everything dull and constraining that Athens—then a vibrant center of alternative music and creativity—was not.

 

JOHN MELLENCAMP - SMALL TOWN

Released: November 2, 1985

Charts:  US: #6  UK: #53 

Released in 1985 on John Mellencamp’s landmark album “Scarecrow”, “Small Town” became one of the defining American rock songs of the decade. Peaking at No. 6 on the Billboard Hot 100 and No. 13 on the Adult Contemporary chart, the track struck a deep cultural chord—one that people see their own lives reflected in Mellencamp’s simple but stirring ode to rural America.

Mellencamp wrote “Small Town” directly from personal experience. Born and raised in the modest community of Seymour, Indiana, he ventured to New York City early in his career but quickly felt out of place. The chaos and anonymity of the city smothered his creativity rather than fueling it. He soon returned home and built a recording studio—Belmont Mall—near the tiny town of Nashville, Indiana, ensuring he could make music without ever needing to rely on a big city again.

Where many artists treated small towns as traps to escape, Mellencamp flipped the narrative. “Small Town” celebrates the satisfaction, dignity, and self-defined success that can come from a life lived outside the cultural spotlight. Upon release, the media anointed Mellencamp as the unofficial spokesperson for small-town America. He resisted the label, insisting he wasn’t trying to make grand statements—he was simply writing about his own life. But for many listeners, especially those from rural communities, the song was affirming in a way that mainstream music rarely was.

Writer David Masciotra, author of Mellencamp: American Troubadour, described “Small Town” as a watershed moment in American music. Growing up in Lansing, Illinois, he saw in the song a validation of his own identity and environment. Once art reaches the world, Masciotra noted, it becomes “embedded in the lives of listeners,” meaning Mellencamp’s reluctance couldn’t stop audiences from adopting him as the bard of the American heartland.

As with many Mellencamp tracks, “Small Town” carries echoes of the 1960s pop and soul music he grew up loving. On its bridge, the song slips in a riff from The Supremes’ “Back in My Arms Again”—a subtle, affectionate nod to the songs that shaped him. The track’s stripped-down arrangement and steady, roots-rock rhythm match its theme perfectly: strong, unpretentious, and deeply familiar.

The idea for the song came partly from Mellencamp’s conversations with New Yorkers who dismissed Midwesterners as naïve “rubies.” He responded the best way he knew—by writing a song that declared, proudly and without apology, that a full life doesn’t require a coastal address. Family, friends, and a sense of belonging mattered more to him than any glamorous urban ambition.

To Mellencamp, the song’s success comes down to something simple: it makes people feel good. It delivered warmth and pride at a time when many of his other songs confronted darker social issues like economic hardship and the struggles of American farmers. “Small Town” isn’t just a personal reflection—it’s a universal anthem for anyone who’s ever felt that the value of a place isn’t measured by its size, but by the life it allows you to build.

JOHN MELLENCAMP - AUTHORITY SONG

Released: March 1984

Charts:  US: #15 

Released as a single from “Uh-Huh” in 1984, “Authority Song” climbed to No. 15 on the U.S. charts. Inspired by the spirit of classic rock rebellion, Mellencamp once described it succinctly: “our new version of ‘I Fought the Law.’” It’s a punchy, self-aware nod to the futility—and necessity—of resisting the forces that try to keep you in line.

At the heart of the song is one of Mellencamp’s most quoted lines: “growing up leads to growing old and then to dying.” It shows the worldview that fueled much of his early music: life is short, authority is oppressive, and you should push back while you still have the fight in you.

But the track also came from a personal place. Mellencamp had spent much of his early career wrestling with authority, from his small-town origins in Seymour, Indiana—where people told him fame was impossible—to the rigid expectations of the New York music industry. Ironically, despite the song’s claim that “authority always wins,” Mellencamp himself is the counterexample. He ignored naysayers, fought with labels, and eventually emerged with a sound and identity entirely his own.

When Mellencamp moved to New York, he discovered that signing a record deal didn’t make him special—labels were signing dozens of good-looking young rockers in hopes that one would hit. Most artists conformed to industry demands. Mellencamp didn’t.

Still, in his early years, he experimented with several commercial personas: Johnny Cougar, then John Cougar, and by the time “Uh-Huh” arrived, the hybrid name “John Cougar Mellencamp” appeared for the first time. The album marked a turning point: he was still writing hits, but loading them with more narrative and nuance, paving the way for the socially conscious songwriting of “Scarecrow” and “The Lonesome Jubilee”. “Authority Song” fit this moment perfectly—energetic enough for radio, but laced with sharp commentary.

By the time “Authority Song” was released, Mellencamp was riding high from the success of “Jack & Diane” and “Hurts So Good,” with heavy support from the newly dominant MTV. Paradoxically, he despised making music videos. And for “Authority Song,” the label paired him with a director who felt exactly the same way: Jay Dubin. Dubin later said: “It just has to look nice and exist for a few short minutes. There’s no magic in it.” The result was a striking black-and-white video showing Mellencamp as a boxer stepping into the ring without gloves—symbolic bravado without a fight. He never throws a punch, yet the video communicates everything the song represents: a man who keeps showing up, refusing to back down.

EVERYTHING BUT THE GIRL – MISSING

Publicada: 8 d’agost de 1994; 16 d’octubre de 1995 (remix de Todd Terry)

Llistes: Regne Unit: #3  EUA: #2

“Missing” és una cançó d’Everything but the Girl publicada el 1994 al seu àlbum d’orientació acústica “Amplified Heart”. Escrita per Tracey Thorn i Ben Watt, el duo britànic que s’havia conegut com a estudiants a la Universitat de Hull i que més tard es van casar, el single va entrar inicialment de manera modesta a les llistes. Pocs podrien haver predit que la cançó — tranquila, desolada i discreta — es convertiria en un fenomen mundial de música dance un any més tard. La seva transformació en un èxit global després del remix de Todd Terry no només canviaria el futur del grup, sinó que ajudaria a impulsar la música electrònica cap al pop mainstream a una escala massiva.

La versió original de “Missing” és escassa i íntima: un lament lent i suaument palpitant construït al voltant de la producció apagada de Watt i de la veu inconfusiblement freda i ferida de Thorn. Va ser escrita durant un període de turbulència personal per a la parella — Watt havia sobreviscut recentment a la malaltia autoimmune potencialment mortal síndrome de Churg–Strauss, una crisi que va donar una claredat emocional crua a la seva composició.

Però va ser el remix house de Todd Terry de 1995 el que va catapultar “Missing” a la consciència internacional. Hipnòtic i irresistiblement propulsiu, la versió de Terry va reencuadrar la malenconia de Thorn en quelcom preparat per a la pista de ball. “La va portar en una direcció realment forta del house de Nova York”, va recordar Thorn, la seva simplicitat convertint-se en el seu poder. A Watt també li va agradar la transformació: “El mix de Todd va ser un moment clau… La gent va decidir que havia de ser un èxit.”

Aquest instint del públic va resultar encertat. El remix va arribar al Top 10 gairebé a tot arreu, assolint el número 1 a Alemanya, Itàlia i Canadà, i arribant al número 2 als Estats Units. També es va convertir en el primer senzill de la història que va passar 55 setmanes ininterrompudes a les llistes dels EUA. Irònicament, Blanco y Negro, el segell britànic del duo, els havia acomiadat poc després de la publicació d’”Amplified Heart”, completament inconscient que estaven a punt de perdre el major èxit de la carrera del grup.

Entre bastidors, el camí no va ser sense friccions. Todd Terry va admetre més tard que el grup inicialment no estava segur sobre el remix, creient que no encaixava amb la seva imatge. “Nosaltres vam lluitar perquè el disc sortís”, va dir. “Hi crèiem.” La història va validar la seva convicció: el remix es va convertir en la versió definitiva, tot i que molts fans devots encara prefereixen la bellesa fràgil de l’original.

El videoclip que l’acompanya, dirigit per Mark Szaszy, reflecteix el sentit de desig de la cançó — Thorn i Watt ocupen el mateix apartament però apareixen emocionalment distants, deambulant per Balham i Clapham South com si orbitessin en un passat desaparegut.

EVERYTHING BUT THE GIRL - MISSING

Released: August 8, 1994; October 16, 1995(Todd Terry remix)

Charts: UK: #3  US: #2 

“Missing” is a song by Everything but the Girl released in 1994 on their acoustic-leaning album “Amplified Heart”. Written by Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt, the British duo who had met as students at the University of Hull and later married, the single was initially a modest chart entry. Few could have predicted that the song — quiet, desolate, and understated — would become a worldwide dance phenomenon a year later. Its transformation into a global hit following Todd Terry’s remix would not only reshape the band’s future but help push electronic music into mainstream pop on a massive scale.

The original version of “Missing” is sparse and intimate: a slow, gently pulsing lament built around Watt’s muted production and Thorn’s unmistakably cool, wounded vocal. It was written during a period of personal upheaval for the pair — Watt had recently survived the life-threatening autoimmune illness Churg–Strauss syndrome, a crisis that lent a raw emotional clarity to their songwriting. 

But it was Todd Terry’s 1995 house remix that catapulted “Missing” into the international consciousness. Lean, hypnotic, and irresistibly propulsive, Terry’s version reframed Thorn’s melancholy into something dancefloor-ready. “He took it in a really strong New York house direction,” Thorn recalled, its simplicity becoming its power. Watt, too, loved the transformation: “Todd’s mix was a serendipitous moment… The people decided it should be a hit.”

That public instinct proved right. The remix reached the Top 10 nearly everywhere, hitting No. 1 in Germany, Italy, and Canada, and soaring to No. 2 in the United States. It also became the first single in history to spend an uninterrupted 55 weeks on the US charts. Ironically, Blanco y Negro, the duo’s UK label, had dropped them shortly after Amplified Heart was released, entirely unaware they were about to lose the biggest hit of the band’s career.

Behind the scenes, the journey wasn’t frictionless. Todd Terry later admitted the group was initially unsure about the remix, believing it didn’t fit their image. “We fought for the record to come out,” he said. “We believed in it.” History validated his conviction: the remix became the definitive version, though many devoted fans still prefer the original’s fragile beauty.

The accompanying music video, directed by Mark Szaszy, mirrors the song’s sense of longing — Thorn and Watt occupy the same apartment yet appear emotionally estranged, drifting through Balham and Clapham South as though orbiting a vanished past.