The second LP of R.E.M. Mach II (post-Bill Berry) finds the 21-year vets exploring more of Up's sensual cosmos, only via their directly-melodic, early '90s writing. Like a warmer, more rainy version of their 1991 breakthrough smash LP Out of Time, the trio with hand-picked permanent guests seems totally inspired by the chamber-spiritual, subconscious elements they now favor. The opening "The Lifting" is a perfect example. Michael Stipe's epicurean, beguiling vocal comes out of swatches of looping, icy keyboards and strident, chiming pianos, encircling you like little planets revolving around your head, as feedbacky background touches bubble and burst like rocket flares to a delicious two/three-and beat. It's like some magic world beyond our grasp, one he's finally found the door to-totally irresistible. It's also the best pop single the band's given us since "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight," and further evidence of their ceaseless vitality. As Stipe trills, "If you hear these voices calling you," he seems to be foreshadowing an LP where one nearly is guided by them, via creative overdub-layering that would make one of R.E.M.'s recent mentors, the 1966-'67 Brian Wilson, smile. (See the sweet, scrumptious, Pet Sounds-ish "Summer Turns to High" and "Beachball.") Beautifully and luxuriously recorded by the returning Pat McCarthy, the lush organs, pianos, strings, flitting guitar, and lavish beds of bass and drums quietly glitter in the gloaming. It comes in different flavors, too: Western movie rustic-tones pervade "All the Way to Reno (You're Gonna Be A Star)," complete with tasteful xylophone, while the strings wash over "She Just Wants to Be." The waltz-time "Disappear" feels like an Automatic For the People track reflected through a funhouse mirror room of the spinning guitars. And the "Electrolite"/"Find the River" entry, "I'll Take the Rain," is unspeakably rainforest-lush and beautiful, a must. Peter Buck and Mike Mills have rarely been more creative, unobtrusively creating successive inventive parts that jump out over successive listens. And Stipe, whether rising with magnificent resignation from the subliminal piano weave (nearly Chills-like!) of the sparse "Saturn Return" or seducing so thoroughly on "The Lifting," has rarely seemed more softly stirring, the twilight of the music reflected perfectly in his restrained singing. Rock stars can mature, and make fine music for decades. R.E.M.'s luscious pop is a rare exception to the usual sickly pattern, the down-the-drain of predictable mediocrity to feeble efforts. It's a long way from "Carnival of Sorts" to "Imitation of Life," but today's R.E.M. is not only a fair inheritor of its own long and fine legacy; they're doing some of their best work in the here and now. Reveal is a small revelation, a delightful but ever-challenging headphones record to revel in. ~ Jack Rabid, The Big Takeover, All Music Guide