One of the world’s most critically revered music outfits decides to release their 7th LP in what can only be described as an irreverent interpretation of free market economics. The morning of October 10th I received an email informing me that I could now download
In Rainbows, the unexpected (originally due out in ’08) new release from Radiohead. In a couple of months, I’ll receive the rest of my purchase including the vinyl, CD with bonus tracks, plus various sundries. All the hoopla surrounding how the band’s inspired distribution method would affect the music business writ large threatened to overshadow a much more pertinent question: Is the album any good? I’d say, well of course, it’s Radiohead, but of course that doesn’t suffice for the non-/casual fan. Well upon first listen, it’s clear the album won’t win any new converts. However, those of us who have watched (or rather listened to) the evolution of this band will find many subtle yet significant changes in how they seem to be making music. When a band has made seven full-length records (plus material for at least four more), some complacency is expected, perhaps unavoidable.
In Rainbows is not the sound of a self-satisfied band.
I don’t think it’s possible for the three main creative drivers of the band: Yorke (frontman), Greenwood (lead guitarist) and Godrich (producer) to be complacent. I’ve always pictured Nigel Godrich (the band’s producer since OK Computer) as this not so much mad as intensely focused chemist constantly working to create something special with the elements of the band; always tinkering with the formula (on a molecular level) from one record to the next. I’ve felt like that since watching
Meeting People is Easy which had footage of the guys in the studio. They seem like the type of people who’ll stay in the studio for days on end to get an interesting take on a song. Jonny Greenwood just seems to bring an inexhaustible reservoir of creative energy. And Thom Yorke? Well he’s my Dylan, my Lennon, my pre-Player’s Club Ice Cube. Together they’ve created some of the most compelling and innovative pop music of the last decade.
Looking back, Radiohead’s 4th album,
Kid A was the equivalent of Tiger Woods rebuilding his swing from scratch. Observers wondered aloud why you would screw with perfection. When Radiohead released
OK Computer in 1997, it was hailed as the most important recording since the Watergate tapes. Critics ranked it up there with
Dark Side of the Moon and
Sgt. Pepper’s. Such praise can be deadly for young artists. As Yorke succinctly puts it in Meeting People is Easy:
“It’s like a supply and demand thing…this is what they want me to do, this is what they want to hear, so I can do more of this, this is great and they love me…[this] can be the demise of so many recording artists, because suddenly they start giving you cash as well, suddenly you’ve got money and you get used to this lifestyle. And you don’t want to take any risks, they’ve got you by the balls…you’ve got all this baggage you’re carrying around with you everywhere. You’ve got all these things that you’ve bought or you’re attached to…that’s how they get you.”
So Radiohead goes into the studio and conceives a record that shows almost no trace of
OK Computer’s DNA. Some interpreted this as an
In Utero-style kiss-off to critics and newly acquired fans alike, but that’s not what it seemed like to me. I felt it was a group of artists saying, you know what, we just want to make music that’s interesting and honest; music beholden only to ourselves. Contrast this to Coldplay who after the success of
Parachutes basically decided that they wanted to become the most popular band in the world. Hope it works out for them. No really.
Radiohead’s sound as I said earlier is constantly evolving. This evolution begins and ends with Yorke’s voice. As a friend of mine once noted, it’s as if Thom Yorke isn’t even trying to sing anymore. And indeed, he really doesn’t. He doesn’t so much sing as deploy his voice into the soundscapes the band creates. Granted there are still songs where he does just sing the hell out of a song (see: “How to Disappear Completely”), but often he uses his voice (along with deft digital manipulation) as an exceptionally versatile instrument (see: “Everything in It’s Right Place”). On the new album, that evolution continues with songs like Reckoner. The lyrics are difficult to make out, but Yorke’s voice drives this collage of sound that’s just downright beautiful. Radiohead began as a rather conventional guitar-band that began experimenting with organic and synthetic sounds, weaving them into a surprisingly cohesive tapestry. Others have attempted this shift. R.E.M. tried it out and I thought it fit well (see: “
Up”; also produced by Godrich coincidentally), but they abandoned it. U2 got all experimental for one album (see: “
Pop” which I dug a whole lot), but then decided to go back to what they did best. Radiohead continued on down the rabbit hole. Their follow-up to
Kid A, Amnesiac went even deeper. Many of their songs are about alienation; lovers disconnected physically, emotionally or both; people pursuing each other, fleeing each other, seeking each other out in some surreal landscape; individuals trapped in perpetual discomfit. You know the usual. Radiohead’s songs are at turns claustrophobic and ethereal like being trapped inside the genie’s lamp.
The song I keep coming back to on
In Rainbows is “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi”:
In the deepest ocean
Bottom of the sea
Your eyes
They turn me
Why should I stay here?
Why should I stay?
I’d be crazy not to follow
Follow where you lead
Your eyes
They turn me
Turn me on a phantom
I follow to the end of the Earth
Fall off
Yeah everybody leaves
If they get the chance
And here’s my chance
I get eaten by the worms
And weird fishes
Picked over by the worms
And weird fishes
I swear in like half their songs Yorke’s being devoured by something: wolves, worms, rabbits, you name it. It sounds somber on paper, but the contrast of the lyrics to the driving beat turn it into a deceptively optimistic song. I’m also partial to "Nude", a song that has gestated for well over a decade and appeared in numerous incarnations in their live show. It’s a melancholy song (surprise!) about what happens when expectations come to fruition (“Now that you’ve found it/It’s gone/Now that you feel it/You don’t/You’ve gone off the rails”). The opener, "15 Step" didn’t grab me at first, but a few more spins and I’m nodding my head especially to the nimble bass line that kicks in at the two-thirds mark of the song. I’ve listened to the whole thing all the way through about a half-dozen times now.
This is the work of a band in full command of their talents. It doesn’t try too hard to be different from its predecessors, but it has its own voice. It will take another good week to properly digest the whole thing. It's a shame I'll have to wait until next year to see them perform this material. Now if only the band could figure out a way to circumvent Ticketmaster the way they have the big music labels. I guess it gives them something to shoot for.
