Replacements are legends, not myths

Frank Spignese / Special to The Daily Yomiuri

The Replacements:

All Over But the Shouting

By Jim Walsh

Voyageur Press, 304 pp, 21.95 dollars

Rock 'n' roll history is rife with dubious mythmaking. The Rolling Stones sang about being Street Fighting Men, when in reality Dusty Springfield and Lulu could have probably administered a proper beating on art-school dropouts Mick and Keith. Black Sabbath feigned being Satanists, though Ozzy Osbourne probably couldn't spell Beelzebub, never mind actively worship him. And while Bruce Springsteen certainly came from a working-class background, the only calluses on his hands are from his Telecaster.

This twisted demand for righteousness in rock music made the Replacements all the more special. Aside from being a great band, the Minneapolis foursome (nicknamed the Mats) never pretended to be tough, never pretended to be cool. They were four middle-class dopes from the Midwest who not only eschewed success but seemed to consciously sabotage their chances of ever becoming popular.

Their penchant for self-destruction, coupled with front man Paul Westerberg's heart-on-sleeve/tongue-in-cheek songwriting, have imbued their legend with a tragic beauty that most bands spend their entire existence trying to replicate.

Minnesota rock scribe Jim Walsh's band biography All Over But The Shouting is a long overdue study of the lovable losers' transformation from three-chord punkers to the greatest American cult band of the 1980s. Professing to be an oral history, it's composed of interviews with managers, friends and hangers-on rather than much input from the band itself.

While this may be a disappointment to some, it's in keeping with the Mats' media-wary attitude. Westerberg and bassist Tommy Stinson refused to discuss the past. Drummer Chris Mars offered a few new throwaway quotes in the epilogue. And lead guitarist Bob Stinson (Tommy's older brother) died from years of hard living in 1995.

What we're left with is a hodgepodge of remembrances paired with quotes cherry-picked from past interviews with Westerberg and the Stinson brothers. There are also scores of pages devoted to hipsters who somehow knew the Mats between 1979 and 1991. These passages, while interesting at times, seem more suited for some indie-rock chat room than a full-blown rock bio. Walsh's love of the subject is incontestable, yet his decision not to pen a straight-up biography is disheartening. In the 12-page intro, he pledges his undying devotion to the group's music, promising greater personal insights to come. But from the first chapter on it's a cut-and-paste amalgam that stops and starts with no discernible cadence.

However, one of the book's charms is its unpretentious depiction of the DIY punk scene of Minneapolis in the early 1980s. Long before MySpace and YouTube gave every musician instantaneous access to a worldwide audience, bands played keg parties and begged local record labels to give their demo tape a listen.

These anecdotes give a clear picture of what it was once like growing up with nothing to do in the bone-cold winters of the American heartland. Eyewitness accounts of the Replacements' tumbledown live shows are also a hoot to read. One night they were the greatest rock band on the planet, and the next night they were drunk as skunks, playing covers of Thin Lizzy and Jackson 5 tunes with zero irony.

What sometimes made the Replacements great was their desire to not be great. And as foreign a concept as that may seem in 2008, it made all the sense in the world to a handful of dissatisfied teens in Reagan Era America. Walsh successfully encapsulates why the Mats' devotees were so enamored with the foursome. But why the Mats were not enamored with themselves is a topic that remains to be touched upon.

Fans of the band will devour this in one sitting. Those who are wondering what the fuss is all about ought to buy their eight albums. Start with Let It Be or Tim, listen to them nonstop for six months...and then open this book. For there is no myth about the Replacements, only the music.