The Irreverent Smirk
The Irreverent Smirk
Celebrating 40 years of Let It Be by The Replacements
It’s been said, though I don’t know if there was ever a first person to attribute this quote to or merely something that caught on and was repeated, that when you hear a John Prine song, you can almost hear the twinkle in his eye when he sings certain lyrics. There’s a boyish, “aw shucks” quality that can also be mischievous, playful, and maybe a bit dream like.
When I hear The Replacements, I hear an irreverent smirk. And there’s no one else before or since that I can say this about.
Let It Be, the third full length album released by The Mats turned 40 just the other day. I don’t really know what my favorite Replacements album is, but if I was hard-pressed to answer, Let It Be probably is the one.
Let’s first talk about the title. Allegedly the story goes that the new album’s title was going to be whatever song came on next on the classic rock station. So for all intents and puposes, this album could have been called Me and Bobbie McGee or Whole Lotta Love. But instead, the earnest song written by Paul McCartney about a dream of his mother visiting him, became a slightly tongue-in-cheek title for an 11 song whirlwind of everything this band had been and was becoming: punk energy, irreverent stupidity, beautiful introspection, youthful longing, old school rock and roll rawness, maybe a little more stupidity, and a dash of experimentation and plenty of trademark “Well, what the fuck”-edness. I’m not sure if there’s another example of two albums of the same name, that are so diametrically different, that in their own right, have both become bonafide classics.1
The Replacements were becoming Paul Westerberg’s band at this point. They started out as Bob Stinson’s band, with their first album Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash, staying in more of a punk rock lane, with dashes of Stinson’s prog-influenced lead guitar talents. Their follow-up, the EP, Stink, was an experiment in the prevailing hardcore scene of Minneapolis. And then Hootenanny was the band finding a distinctive style and voice. It’s rough, sometimes fast, and all sorts of smirky, “Don’t take anything too seriously”. And it’s fantastic.
But with Let It Be, Westerberg’s songwriting shines. Yes there are still punk laced jams like, “Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out”, and unhinged rock and roll jams like, “Seen Your Video”, full on idiocy with, “Gary’s Got a Boner”, and I-wonder-if-this-is-earnest-but-who-cares-if-it-isn’t cover songs like the KISS song “Black Diamond”. But you also start to notice a sensitivity (and once again, maybe at times it’s still sung with a smirk?) and depth in songs like, “Androgynous”, “Unsatisfied”, “Sixteen Blue”, and “Answering Machine”.
Let It Be will be the first of the three albums that are considered the powerhouse classics of this historically hard to pin down band. That’s half the fun, though. There aren’t a ton of interviews out there with them. And the ones that are out there are absolute drunken shit shows most of the time. They are known for intentionally tanking when the moment got too serious. Oh there are music execs in the audience tonight? We’re going to get loaded and sing covers of old time country songs. The next night with 15 people in the audience? Those 15 will never forget how great of a performance they witnessed.
The irreverent smirk is omnipresent in the band’s work. I get the impression they just loved making music and being idiots2. If you were to sit down with Paul at the CC Club in Minneapolis in 1984 for a Grain Belt or two and asked him about a song like “Sixteen Blue”, he probably would have taken a big slug off the bottle, laughed and squirmed and then lied to your face about the sincerity of it all in that wry Minnesota manner. Oh he knows he’s smart and talented, but he’ll do everything to make you think he’s everything else but that.
These days Westerberg is retired and stays out of the spotlight. One hopes he’s still making music in secret that will one day see the light of day. It was Let It Be forty years ago that really got people thinking, “this guy might just be a great songwriter.” Time would tell that, yeah, they were right. I don’t think songwriters ever really quit writing songs, so hopefully the mood will inspire him to release something more at some point in time. He certainly doesn’t have to. The work speaks for itself and then some, but you can’t help but want more from someone of his talent.
Let It Be would be their last album and biggest seller on the legendary Minneapolis independent label Twin/Tone. Recently Danielle and I got to see a book event featuring the label’s co-founder and former Replacements manager, Peter Jesperson, who recently released a memoir about his life in music, called, Euphoric Recall. And it just so happened he was accompanied by his longtime friend, Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson.
It was a real thrill to hear them talk about the amazing Minneapolis music scene of the ‘80s and to chat a little bit about Replacements lore, including getting kicked out of their first gig for bringing booze into a dry venue. They also talked about their infamous SNL performance that got them banned from the show.
But listening to and observing Tommy, you could still sense the irreverent smirk. Yeah, he’s older, but you can tell there’s a little bit of a “Trouble Boy”3 inside of him still.
In fact, I got a chance to meet Tommy and have him, along with Peter Jesperson, sign Peter’s book. I was wearing my Wilco shirt from when they played the legendary Chicago honky tonk bar, Carol’s Pub, and Tommy was curious about it. Here’s how it went:
Tommy: Carol’s Pub, huh?
Andy: Yeah, have you heard of it?
Tommy: Nah
Andy: Oh it’s really cool! It’s the last remaining honky tonk in the city. Wilco played there.
Tommy: So like some line dancing shit?
Andy: No, man! Just cool old school honky tonk vibes. It’s about the music.
Tommy: Alright, cool (signs book with the following inscription…)
The top is the message from Peter Jesperson and the bottom is Tommy’s message, “Let’s go to Carol’s”. Part of me thinks if we’d have waited around, we could have talked him into going.
I told a coworker, who is a bit older than me and has tons of stories about going to punk shows in the ‘80s (including several Replacements shows), about this interaction and she told me how a friend of hers went drinking with Tommy and ended up with a broken arm. It was the impetus for him getting sober. It’s probably good I didn’t go out to Carol’s with Tommy. My health insurance isn’t that good!
All this to say, these guys were and are the real deal. It was four dudes who never finished high school who were destructive madmen, who together also happened to be one of the most influential bands on the “alternative rock” explosion of the ‘90s. If a band like this came along now, you’d assume it was a contrived act. Not with The Replacements. They continue to fascinate and inspire with the range of music they released—powerful, thought-provoking, idiotic, aggressive, tender and introspective…done their own way for their own reasons or lack thereof—that’s as punk as it gets.
Getting to meet Tommy was like coming face-to-face with the essence of punk rock. He was just a teenager when Let It Be came out and quite literally was raised on rock and roll. You can tell he carries on that legacy of doing things his way. He plays his music and is approachable, and is maybe a tad dangerous in a harmless sort of way, if that makes any sense. But he’s also just so cool.
The Replacements were the coolest too. But not in a way that was pretentious or in an untouchable icon sort of way. They were cool because the music, in its smirk filled way, is earnest and relatable. It hits on a lot of levels and still just sounds so good. Like the band itself, it’s hard to accurately summarize what Let It Be “is”. It’s a lot and nothing. It’s filled with contradiction and maybe a touch of mystery. Who the hell are these guys? Just look at the iconic photo that graces the cover. Are they up to something? Are they bored? Are they tired? Are they ready to cause some mischief? Yes, no, maybe? They’re not letting you in on a direct answer. Does it matter? Maybe the best advice when it comes to that question is directly from Mother Mary, who in times of trouble, speaks these words of wisdom “Let it be.” In short, no, it doesn’t matter whether you find any answers. Just listen. Let the rest of it go.
Music and artists that you can’t pin down will always be the soul of what rock and roll was, is, and forever will be. It doesn’t have to be anything more than it is—rock and roll songs on an album…some you’ll like, some you may not. But in its state of simplicity, it’s brilliant. It’s defiant. It’s ridiculous. It’s rock and roll.
Although, though I can’t say for sure, Wilco’s most playful album, Star Wars, may be a nod to the whole idea of “let’s take the name of a vaunted institution and make it a bit ridiculous”. They put a Persian kitten on the front cover of the album, really driving the point home. Jeff Tweedy is well-known to be a Replacements fan, so part of me thinks it might have been partial inspiration
I throw around the words “idiots” and “stupidity” a lot here and I want to be clear that I mean that with fondness and admiration for an approach that gets right to the crux of rock and roll. It was and is meant to a fun type of music, first and foremost. Sure, I get into the artier elements of it as well, but I think it’s important to remember that this music was meant to be danced to, thrashed along with, and just be a pure emotional release. This does not belie the fact that The Replacements worked really hard and created some enduring songs of depth. It’s hard to be both irreverent and musically admirable, but it’s one of the things that truly makes this band unlike anyone else