This expanded Let It Bleed edition of the Replacements’ fourth studio album Tim—the final with their full, original lineup—is a marvellous, absolutely necessary corrective to the muddled-sounding original release from 1985. Tim found the band at their creative peak, with some of the best songs Paul Westerberg, Chris Mars, and brothers Tommy and Bob Stinson would ever write, fresh under their belts. Here we get to enjoy not only the demos and an entire live show that are staples of the expanded reissue game, but we get to hear a version of the original album that’s worthy of the material, thanks to veteran producer and engineer Ed Stasium.
The Replacements really were contenders, and it’s easy to imagine they could at least have been as big as Tom Petty, if not Springsteen. In 1985, they were newly signed to a supportive label with major distribution (Sire, who had championed the Ramones and Talking Heads). And the songs! From the deadpan, self-effacing yet somehow swaggering opener “Hold My Life” to the delightful Big Star redux of “Kiss Me On The Bus,” the wallflower anthem “Swingin Party,” the anthemic as fuck “Bastards Of Young,” the incredible college radio ass-kiss of “Left Of The Dial,” and then ending with the absolute heartbreaker of “Here Comes A Regular,” Tim had every right to be as good or better than their gleeful breakout 1984 album Let it Be. A Ramone (Tommy a.k.a Tom Erdelyi) was even brought in to produce the thing, after initial sessions with their hero Alex Chilton (excerpts of which are included here). The mix just never came together, and the band did not have the creative control they’d previously had under Twin/Tone Records.
In those pre-Nevermind days, there were very few acts who’d made the transition from the supportive yet broke-as-heck indie label system to a major label with their sonic integrity intact. R.E.M. didn’t succeed at the task until 1988, and even the Replacements’ longtime friends Hüsker Dü failed spectacularly in 1987 with the messy, uninspired Warehouse. Tim sounded flat and a bit strange to fans, in a manner likely similar to Detroiters first hearing the second MC5 album, or Bowie’s mix of the Stooges’ Raw Power. So much information seemed to be missing. The ‘Mats fans watched the notoriously sloppy yet inventive band morph from jokey hardcore kids to serious contenders for the next great troubadours in the vein of the Band. To mainstream reviewers, it was a fresh blast, on the strength of the group’s erratic, epic live shows and how great these songs are. In November 1985, Rolling Stone crowed that the album sounded “as if it were made by the last real band in the world.” Unfortunately, the self-destruction and excess that seemed cute at first took its toll, and guitarist Bob Stinson would be asked to leave before they could record the followup, 1987′s Pleased to Meet Me. Stinson died a decade later.
The producers of this reissue deserve all the medals and awards for their painstaking and sonically dense paean to, resurrection of, and love letter for the Replacements’ fourth studio album. The band would doubtless have still managed to screw their career up even if the initial product had sounded this good. The released video for “Bastards” is, of course, the ultimate slacker moment: A single camera shot of a stereo playing the song, the focus pulled back to reveal a smoking male listening to it on a couch, who then kicks in the speakers when it’s over. Today, we have the version of the song that should have soundtracked it. Almost forty years too late, but we have it.
