Jim James loves to do voices. He peppers his conversation with crisp impersonations of the jokers who populate his world. Like the suits who go platinum-gaga at the arrival of each new album by his band, My Morning Jacket. "It's time to go to the next level, ravity-ravity-ravity!" James says, bending his faint Southern drawl into biz-speak yammer.

What follows is an excerpt from the middle of our April cover story on R.E.M. Read more about Stipe, R.E.M., and the genesis of their new album, Accelerate, in our April 2008 issue, on newsstands now.

When Ezra Koenig was a sophomore at Columbia University, his main extracurricular activity was his (white) rap duo, L'Homme Run. They composed and performed verbally dexterous songs with titles like "Pizza Party" and "Interracial Dating" (which reflected on finding long black hairs in the shower), and co-opted the Lacoste alligator as their official mascot.

Screwing a cigarette into his mouth, which he clamps between his teeth like a cowboy Clint Eastwood, Pete Doherty prowls around his suite at London's K West hotel as if scouting for potential escape routes.

Kanye West is not pissed; he's just in problem-solving mode. Right now, the problem is production costs. "I want to be the No. 1 artist," he says to a member of his crew.

"Welcome, Canadians!" Even at soundcheck, Bruce Springsteen treats a New Jersey venue like his home, and Arcade Fire's Win Butler and Régine Chassagne are honored guests. "Did you guys finish your tour?"