This feature originally ran in October 2015. We’re reposting it for the 35th anniversary of Let It Be.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Art is subjective. Music and movies aren’t about competition; they’re about artistic expression. Well, for those of you who know better than to believe those lies, welcome to another installment of Vs. This time, Ryan Bray and Collin Brennan debate over The Replacements’ two most iconic albums.
The Replacements’ career trajectory spanned 12 years and seven records, but the sizable bulk of their legend is couched in one pivotal year-long stretch in the mid-’80s. October 1984 saw the release of Let It Be, the arrival of The Replacements as fans still lovingly remember them today; wayward, wreckless, funny, and utterly human. The Minneapolis band followed up the album a year later to the month with Tim, a logical extension of the brash rock ‘n’ roll and heart-on-sleeve balladry showcased on its predecessor.
Thirty-five years later, the argument still persists between Replacements obsessives who favor one record versus the other, and for good reason. The parity between Let It Be and Tim is so strong that it almost begs you to take the former record’s advice. Why split hairs between “I Will Dare” and “Bastards of Young?” Is there really any quantifiable way of proving that “Answering Machine” is a superior song to “Here Comes A Regular?” It’s about as close to a push as you’ll find between any two records in the alternative rock cannon.
My colleague Collin Brennan is an unapologetic Tim supporter, while I favor that critical transitional period highlighted on Let It Be. But being the suckers that we are for a good musical debate, we thought we’d roll up our sleeves and dive into the issue headfirst, weighing the pros and cons of each record track by track. It was every bit the emotional train wreck you’d imagine it to be, but hey, nothing a case of beer couldn’t fix.
“I Will Dare” vs. “Hold My Life”
Ryan Bray: “Hold My Life”, you were a formidable opponent. But did you really think you’d slip past “I Will Dare”? Don’t take offense, there’s few tracks in the Replacements’ catalog that can best it. Track one of Let It Be pretty much lays the blueprint for what we still understand the band to be more than 30 years later. It’s jangle pop, college rock, pre-alternative, and couched in the kind of 20-something distress that’s long made the band coming-of-age musical heroes. Plus it’s got Peter Buck playing on a fucking mandolin.
Collin Brennan: I’m taking the side of Tim in this general discussion, so our first matchup puts me at a pretty immediate disadvantage. “I Will Dare” is that rare song that shows every side of the Replacements at once. It’s a love song that’s either sinister or goofy depending on the mood you’re in. If you’re trying to explain the phrase “college rock” to an alien and you have just over three minutes to do it, you could do a lot worse than these three minutes.
Winner: Let It Be
“Favorite Thing” vs. “I’ll Buy”
Collin Brennan: “I’ll Buy” feels like Tim’s answer to the excellent “I Will Dare”, and not just because the titles are so similar. It’s got the same jangly rock ‘n’ roll vibe, the same penchant for wordplay (“Don’t wanna get pop, find yourself a rockin’ chair”), and a sort of preemptive nostalgia that’s hard to pin down. Listening to this song is like looking at an old Polaroid of you and your friends at the beach. “Favorite Thing” is cool, too, but it’s the kind of song that grabs you by force instead of reeling you in slowly. Oh, and the chorus of “I’ll Buy” hinges almost entirely on a pun. To that I say: I’ll buy, goodbye.
Ryan Bray: Collin’s right in that “Favorite Thing” grabs you by force, but that’s exactly why I’ll champion it here. Let It Be marked the point where the Replacements started steadily moving away from the raucous misfit rock and roll that colored its earliest releases, but the cut proves that they still hadn’t lost their taste for loose bratty fun even in the midst of their musical maturation. Also, “Favorite Thing” is, in fact, my favorite thing the Mats have done, so it’s hard for me to be too objective.
“We’re Comin’ Out” vs. “Kiss Me On The Bus”
Ryan Bray: I know I’m supposed to be in the Let It Be camp here, but it’s time to give Tim a little love. I’ll start by taking “Kiss Me On The Bus” over “We’re Comin’ Out.” Considering how much of the Mats’ power derives from Westerberg’s ability to tap into the heart of post adolescent life, what’s more relatable than pining for someone that seems just a bit out of your reach? Admittedly the band goes to this thematic place a lot, but “Kiss Me On The Bus” still feels so perfectly in touch with the source material Westerberg is tackling.
Collin Brennan: “Kiss Me On The Bus” is the song that ended up on all of my mixtapes in high school. This was years before I started riding the bus to work every day in Chicago, around which time I learned that people making out on public transportation is not as pretty as it sounds. Either way, this one’s the platonic ideal of ‘Mats tunes: kind of dirty, kind of sloppy, but imbued with a deep strain of romanticism that wins you over. “We’re Comin’ Out” is pretty one-dimensional by comparison, though I am a sucker for those finger snaps.
“Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out” vs. “Dose of Thunder”
Collin Brennan: I’ll grant that “Tommy” is probably the funniest song on either album, but give me one good dose of thunder over a paean to dental malpractice any day of the week. Both tracks trace their lineage back to ‘70s glam rock (and, more specifically, the New York Dolls), but “Dose of Thunder” is the one that’s built to last. I’ll also mention that — look! — we’re four tracks into the album and haven’t stumbled on any throwaway goofball songs yet. This matchup is probably the one that best illustrates the difference between Let It Be and Tim: the former is the work of a band still figuring out its shit, while the latter is locked in and fully loaded.
Ryan Bray: Don’t take this as me throwing in the towel, but Collin’s right. Let It Be is a classic, but it still has one foot partially stuck in the band’s sophomoric origins. “Tommy Got His Tonsils Out” and “Gary’s Got A Boner” are funny and insolent, but they also ever so slightly detract from the emotional power of the other nine tracks on the record. Tim isn’t held back by quite as much silliness, and “Dose of Thunder” is catchy and musically assured in the way that “Tommy” just isn’t.