Can it really be 25 years already? So much has changed, and so little. That little orange box, the blue disc, the smudged gorgon face on the front – and the title that says everything and nothing at the same time. “Monster”.

I’ve long posited that “Monster” is R.E.M.’s most interesting, and possibly best album. If you don’t agree, close this web page now. Because I’m going to spend far too long telling you how this 48 minute slice of noise is one of the most important records in my life.

This reissue – a whopping six disc set with the studio album in original and alternate forms, alongside a disc of demos, a servicable live recording from Chicago, alongside a Blu Ray of 5.1 mixes, the 1996 concert film “Road Movie”, and promos – is perhaps more Monster than you might have ever thought likely. But it’s still not as much as it deserves, and, like every previous R.E.M. reissue, concentrates on new and unheard music : the multitude of B-sides that accompanied each album are not represented here. Which means no space for live recordings (though many made the previous “Automatic” boxset), compilation album appearances, or weird alternate mixes from red vinyl 7” singles.

The alternate version of the album is a refreshing and new approach – like meeting an old friend who has aged wonderfully, and in some ways I prefer it to the original. The version of “Let Me In” on here, all brittle and raw emotion and delicate textures – shows the beautiful heart underneath the albums skin and protective barnacles. It’s my favourite version of any R.E.M. song ever. It’s a refreshing take on songs you already know in ways you don’t.

Some of the alternate mixes are less successful, and for some reason, some of the finished mixes are hissy which is either a poor artistic choice, or simple sloppiness.

The demos also support the view that R.E.M. never dried up ; they were just very selective around what they released at this point. Almost all of the demo recordings could’ve been a contender for the album themselves – a couple at least were revisited for future albums, with embryonic versions of “The Final Straw” and “Until The Day Is Done” in the pack. R.E.M. didn’t write bad songs – they just didn’t finish every song they wrote, and there’s an abundance of songs that – had Stipe written vocals for – were at least as good as anything on most of their albums.

The final two live discs from Chicago in June 1995 are not an essential listen, but a curious recording of a relatively early show in the tour, and a fascinating snapshot of a night in the life of a band in transition, swinging between the outsized parody of a rock band R.E.M. knowingly were at that time, trying to force intimacy into huge rooms, as well as the considered and sensitive folk-rock act that they had just escaped being. It’s by no means a bad recording – just maybe not as precise with post-show overdubbing as many live recordings often are. This is R.E.M. as they were on that night.

But I have to explain to you. You have to know. Up to “Green” I was a huge R.E.M. fan. The release of “Out of Time” suddenly made this band everybody’s secret – and they were everywhere. That album, and “Automatic For The People”, are more exceptions in the bands work rather than the benchmark. Those two records were quiet, contemplative, the sound of a band making peace rather than making noise. I drifted from the band, admired them, not loved them.

And then with “Monster” they stole my heart again. For “Monster” was the sound of the band flexing its muscle again ; moving away from the sincere to something more complex. In “Monster” the band were grieving, and if you knew where to look and spoke the language, it was there and screaming from the rooftops. In the heart of “Monster” were hurt, sad, loving songs of loss and confusion, asking the permanent questions ; Who am I? Where do I go? What do I do next?

R.E.M. went from making art to asking questions : to exploring life, and how to live it, and somehow navigating the maze of age, success, identity, and the first world problems that come with it. You could argue this album could just as well be called “Paradise Syndrome”, but it’s all the same thing. Sometimes the Monster is what you see in the mirror.

And, given the circumstances the band were in, the music was the same as ever, but covered in scar tissue, obscured in effects pedals and stances, almost in fact, too sincere, too raw, in its original and open configuration, and the need to hide the songs in sound was a suit of armour to protect these brittle feelings and emotions from the pain of sunlight and visibility. You wore expectations like an armoured suit, uh-huh?

In many way, “Monster” is a vampire ; one that will die on contact with the atmosphere, and the effects pedals, the distorted vocals, the obscure words, the impenetrable whole shows that sometimes – this time – all of the affectations were in fact protection and masks. With it, R.E.M. were returning to a love they touched on but had never previously explicitly addressed, the obscure, the unseen, the independent aesthetic they always wore quietly that came from bands like Sonic Youth, Husker Du, The Go Betweens, Echo & The Bunnymen, Tad, Talking Heads, Nirvana… bands that came before and after them, then rode alongside them in culture and became part of the world they existed in. In “Monster” R.E.M. understood that you could often only speak absolute truth whilst wearing a mask, and given how many masks they had at this point, there was no record quite as honest as it.

Individual songs in the album collapsed and rose like wave – the cumulative effect of each song following the previous and preceding the following created a thematic wholeness, a narrative of joined pieces, and it felt like listening to a work of art where each piece was placed next to each other to create a link : from the opening, what-the-heck-is-thisery of “What’s The Frequency, Kenneth?” to the final, doomed “You”, the record asks all the right questions, and almost every song has a question in it : and this is both sonic and lyrical.

Clear in intent, once you unfogged the words, “Monster” is the sound of confusion, grief, and a search for identity in a world that expects you to keep functioning even if you can’t. There’s loss in every line, and the question keeps popping up : Where next? What do I do? What position should I wear?

It was never meant to be anything other than uneasy listening, reflecting the struggle of a life in the wrong shaped world, trying to it fit in, and be yourself at the same time, and sometimes the monster is You. To me, it speaks more openly and directly to me in ways no other R.E.M. album ever did ; and whilst it is – and was – very much a Marmite album, love it or hate it, it was the first time R.E.M. took to wearing masks and trying new viewpoints to express and explore ideas, taking a step back from who Stipe/Mills/Buck/Berry are and were, and who we thought they were, or who the world painted them to be, and instead made clear that who you are is as important as anything else.

It’s rewarding, difficult, and by no means ever an easy puzzle to solve, but “Monster” is a set of questions, and the answer – the monster - is you.