There are stand out, memorable tunes,
like “Creep” from the debut album, like
“Airbag” or “Karma Police” from OK Computer,
but I have always been a little bit unsure
whether I love Radiohead or hate them.
No, let me rephrase, because I KNOW I don’t
hate them; It’s just that, even though
I own three classic albums on vinyl and
a handful of others on CD, I’m not sure
that I love Radiohead. I have tremendous
respect for them, appreciate their innovations,
have been perpetually fascinated by their
front man, Thom Yorke. I like their
brainy aesthetic, and I like their
chameleon-like shifting between vibes
and feels: sometimes brash and trashy,
sometimes moody and electronic, borderline
jazzy, orchestral, progressive, and
often heartbreakingly beautiful.
Maybe OK Computer best illustrates my
difficulty in embracing them completely as
a favorite. I find them sometimes meandering.
Songs sometimes don’t seem to develop in a
satisfying way. Hooks can be nonexistent.
Most of the time I don’t know what Yorke
is singing, meaning I don’t understand
the words, and in the case of this album,
there are no lyric sheets. While I
appreciate the experimental nature of this,
their third album, a kind of protest
record against the grungy dross of the day,
it feels like a record with four or five
great songs and a lot of other stuff not
worth writing home about. The bonus
material, however, in this special edition
of the album, is quite good, much of it
superior to many of the original album tracks.
I feel differently about Kid A and Amnesiac,
brought together in a deluxe 3 LP edition cleverly
titled Kid A Mnesiac. In the opening track,
Yorke sings: “Yesterday, I woke up sucking
on a lemon.” Everything in its right place,
indeed. Such a strange, hypnotic, beautiful,
and spooky beginning. I think with Radiohead,
the quieter, weirder, more ethereal they get,
the more synthy and electronic they get,
the more I like it. It may still meander,
the line between choruses and verses blur,
there’s a lot of sonic experimentation that
might be improvised, but there’s a strong
vibe in these two albums, a vibe that’s
inviting, less abrasive, comforting, groovy,
emotionally evocative. God, I love that
“Morning Bell” song. And it’s super fun trying
to count the time signatures in “Pyramid Song.”
Notes on the vinyl editions:
- OK Computer: OKNOTOK, 1997-2017, XL Recordings, 2017 20th anniversary edition, triple black vinyl.
- Kid A Mnesiac, XL Recordings, 2021, 20th anniversary edition combining (with a new song sequence) Kid A and Amnesiac from 2000 and 2001, respectively, triple black vinyl.
- Note on the jacket design: both of these editions are three record sets, the jackets for which are designed in a booklet fashion with pockets so that each of the three records can be accessed in the usual way opposite the spine. This is only worth mentioning, I guess, because (while I’m a sucker for multi-disc sets) I get so peeved when the second of three records is tucked into a pocket in the middle of a trifold design–meaning you have to spread out the whole damn jacket, all 36 inches of it, or at least 24 inches of it, to access the record in the middle. Just saying. Kudos to whoever designed the jackets of these two Radiohead special editions!
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
