For more than a decade, R.E.M. have been something for Michael Stipe to do when he’s not busy mentoring Conor Oberst or Vespa racing with Mario Batali. Here, guitarist Peter Buck and bassist Mike Mills demand their wandering frontman come home and give a damn. Their 14th studio album is a fierce nostalgia­fest full of cascading jangle, candied power chords, lonesome harmonies, Southern-gothic protest poetry and roundhouse drum bash. It’s even got an overheated dance rocker celebrating “the end of the world.” If only Stipe had more on his mind than what cheesed him off last night on TMZ (Michael Richards, you’re a bigot!). He yelps about celebrity (hollow), the media (shallow), Los Angeles (lonely) and Iraq (ignored), sounding more like an addict than a critic. R.E.M.’s first fans loved them because they didn’t care about fame. He shouldn’t, either.

Download: "Supernatural Superserious," "Hollow Man"