In the 1980s, when Lionel Richie, Phil Collins, Madonna and Huey Lewis ruled pop music, the Replacements were the greatest rock and roll band in the world.
They were too sloppy for hardcore, too heavy-handed for pop, too fast for rock, and too smart for the dope smoking/beer drinking crowd. Singer Paul Westerberg made a perfect rock and roll hero, a sardonic, charismatic drunk who could deliver snotty kiss-offs like “Fuck School” beside the startlingly raw emotions of “Go.” While original guitarist Bob Stinson refused to grow up, a decision that eventually killed him, Westerberg evolved from a snotty kid to a snotty but compassionate adult, seamlessly mixing irreverent jokes with songs that display dazzling emotional resonance.
With the legend of the Replacements today as obscure as the faults of Ronald Reagan, the time is right for a good Mats anthology. Unfortunately, this ain’t it.
The two-disc set All For Nothing compiles 16 tracks from the Mats’ four. Sire albums on one disc, and 17 B-sides, alternate takes, live tracks and other esoterica on the second. The multimedia enhanced CD package also includes four music videos you can view with a CD-ROM player, extensive liner notes and new photos.
Reprise calls it a sampler for the uninitiated and an obsessive fan’s dream come true. In reality, it doesn’t accomplish either goal very well.
The first disc does a good job sampling strong tracks from the Replacement’s four records on Sire, beginning with 1985’s Tim. “Bastards of Young,” “Left of the Dial,” “Can’t Hardly Wait,” “Skyway” and “I’ll Be You” are some of Westerberg’s best, and the best of the era.
But compiling a sampler without dipping into the Mats’ Twin/Tone albums is almost unconscionable. Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash, The Replacements Stink and Hootenanny provide a crucial portrait of Westerberg’s extraordinary evolution as a songwriter; 1984’s Let It Be is their masterpiece, one of the top records of the 1980s.
The rarities disc is fun but not eyeopening. The Mats cover “Cruella DeVille,” “Another Girl, Another Planet” and “Like A Rolling Stone” (which they transform into rolling pin). Chris Mars and Tommy Stinson each get a song, there’s an earlier version of “Can’t Hardly Wait,” and Westerberg adds 10 more fair to very good songs you might not have heard. More importantly, it’s far from their best and certainly nothing a curious fan would find of interest. In the end, it’s either an incomplete sampler or a redundant, overpriced collection of rarities. Wouldn’t two single discs have made more sense?
–Mark Miester
