As we celebrate the Ed Stasium remix of The Replacements album ‘Tim‘, we thought gathering other music lovers’ thoughts would be a great way to stop and consider the impact of this record. The second ‘Revisit’ comes from our friend and music writer, Kevin Alexander. Make sure you subscribe to his Substack!

There used to be a wall in downtown Portland Oregon, where someone had painted “Paul Westerberg is God.” Anytime my friends and I were down there, we’d see it, laugh, and make the sort of inside jokes funny only to us. 

It would be ~25 years between seeing that sign and finally seeing the Replacements. My wife & I drove 75 miles to hear 26 songs, and it was worth every last minute. My ears bled like I thought they might. It was everything we expected. And more.

It would take 38 years for The Replacements’ Tim album to get the remix it deserves. The result is far more than merely “punching up the drums” or tweaking a note here or there. Ed Stasium has overhauled the record, resulting in a much more dynamic, heavier sound.

The original was produced by Tommy Erdelyi (better known as Tommy Ramone) and sounds tinny, nasally even. Despite being packed with songs we hold so close, there is a distance to it. It’s flat, but to my ear, that’s how most ‘Mats records before Don’t Tell A Soul sounded. 

It was all part of the bargain and matched their (then) chaotic style, which never much lent itself to fidelity. The record production on Tim left a lot on the table, but The Replacements was always a band that rolled their eyes at terms like “potential,” so maybe that was part of the bargain too. 

Tim represents an inflection point for the band where Westerberg’s lyrics start pivoting toward a more poignant place. Think less “Gary’s Got A Boner” and more “Little Mascara.“ 

With Stasium’s help, the sound is finally leveled up to match the words. 

The usual box set ingredients (B-sides, live tracks, etc.) are here, but the original album tracks themselves are the real treasure. Listening to a fresh take on something so familiar can be fraught, but Stasium has gone to great lengths to amplify & enhance only the best parts and finally bring the music closer. 

To my ear, the biggest changes are to the rhythm section. Tommy Stinson’s bass had always been relegated to the back, almost an afterthought as Westerberg and  Bob Stinson battled it out on guitar. Here, his playing is much closer to the front, and the lines are much cleaner and clearer. 

Chris Mars also benefits from revisiting the record. With Stasium’s touch, the drumming is revealed as much more intricate. Even listening with less-than-stellar headphones, you hear new fills here or a cymbal crash there. A record like Tim is one you grow to love by heart, down to every last note. Hearing a series of new parts in the equation is unexpected but in the best way. 

Bob Stinson sees some posthumous redemption here, too. At this point in the original recording, he was already headed toward drug-fueled oblivion and had a much-reduced role on the record- almost as a vestigial nod to their louder, more raucous days than anything else. Part of that is down to his wrestling with his demons, but part of that might’ve been down to being on the outside looking in. 

With Westerberg taking an increasing turn toward being a singer-songwriter, where’d he fit in? 

Indeed, one of the two “Bob” tracks is “Dose Of Thunder,” a lovely homage to scoring speed. I used to regard it and “Lay It Down Clown” as two of the weaker tracks on the record. Neither will make any “favorite ‘Mats song of mine” lists, but both are improved significantly here, sounding more electrifying. More importantly, both highlight Stinson’s guitar work as someone who, despite going completely off the rails, could still nail it when the mood struck. 

No track perhaps encapsulates all of this better than the “new” version of “Little Mascara.” Westerberg has a knack for squeezing an entire story into one verse; this is no exception. The original is good, but this is sublime. Parts have been moved around and overhauled. The intro is now the chorus, each verse a step up to the next, and the whole track is now somehow even more anthemic–and that’s before we get to the outro, which is much longer and features a ripping solo by Stinson. 

It just might be my new favorite. 

If you dig far enough on YouTube, there is cellphone footage from the show my wife and I were at. Like the early ‘Mats records, it’s raw and shaky. It’s short on production but long on enthusiasm. 

As Westerberg tears into the opening riff of “Bastards of Young,” someone just out of frame says, “f**k yeah!” it’s more rapturous than anything– as if the person has been waiting their whole life to hear those chords in person. It’s a dream fulfilled. 

In a lot of ways, the newly mixed “Tim” is the same way.