pop-culture for the people

  A strange thing happens to your average, run-of-the-mill music reviewer when a Radiohead album comes out.  Suddenly he becomes a junior psychologist, analyzing the nuances of the record like Sigmund Freud would analyze R. Kelly.  Ridiculous words and overblown phrases pop out of them, like “a brooding indictment of an apathetic public,” as seen in Rolling Stone, and I could give you dozens more.  What makes a writer, especially one so low on the literary food chain, throw these lines at you whenever Thom Yorke decides to sing?  Simple.  All of these people hope, against all odds, that Radiohead are the musical saviors that will rescue rock and roll.  To make a timely comparison, if the music industry was the Matrix, Radiohead would be Neo.  I can just hear Joey Pants now: “So you’re here to save rock music.  What a mindjob!”  Indeed.
 
  And this isn’t the first time they’ve been unwillingly assigned to this job.  In 1997, OK Computer became the critics’ darling, its paranoid lyrics and walls of ghostly sound reflecting the cold, machine-driven millenium we were about to take a turn into.  The album instantly became #1on almost every top ten list, which left the members of Radiohead tired, confused, and more than a little on edge.  The pressure was then on for the band’s follow-up.  They responded in a way not many were prepared for, by releasing Kid A, and later a collection of what I consider to be B-sides, Amnesiac.  If OK Computer was difficult to interpret, Kid A was like finding your way through a dense forest at night by biting on wintergreen Life Savers.  Unintelligable lyrics, non-standard song arrangements, and a warehouse full of strange computerized sounds ruled this record.  It seemed that Thom Yorke wanted to do everything he could to eschew rock stardom.  Instead, the band’s loyal followers only became more obsessed, and the leftovers who were itching for a sequel to “Creep” - the same bunch of grungies, I bet, who wish Pearl Jam would have made the album Ten ten times over - were left bitter and listening to Staind.  It is an interesting fact that with each successive album and their ever-increasing accolades, their sales have gone down every time.  I don’t think they have to worry about going broke anytime soon, though.  Their concerts sell out in mere seconds.   

  Most fans of Radiohead, including me, have already listened to Hail to the Thief, long before its June 10th release date.  It was leaked onto the internet like so much porn, available for anyone without shame or just without the bucks to shell out for the real thing.  This album has been described as sort of a “best hits” package, containing the various sounds you would have heard in the band’s last five albums.  Some have gone so far as to accuse them of ripping off themselves, and not moving forward with their work as they’ve done so far.  All I can say to this is, Christ on a pony, make up your damn mind!  First the majority of listeners shun them when they change, and then the critics slam them when they feel like they don’t?  You just can’t please everybody, I guess.  Besides, it’s not true.  For the most part anyway.

The songs on HTTT are compact, the longest being just over five minutes, the shortest running at a brief two.  By that respect they could be classified as radio-friendly songs, and some come close.  “There There,” the first single, with its jungle drum rhythm and flowing guitar lines, is as pretty and dark as any song from OK Computer.  “2+2=5” is the loudest song on the album, building to a guitar crescendo reminiscent of “Just” from The Bends.  Then there’s “Sail to the Moon,” a heartbreakingly beautiful piano tune that owes a lot to “Pyramid Song” from Amnesiac for its sound.  Tunes like “Where I End and You Begin” and “A Punch Up at a Wedding” throw in some jazz and funk for good measure, something many listeners might be surprised about. There are plenty of electronic blips and bleeps to be found too, all courtesy of Johnny Greenwood’s magic box of strange instruments.  However, these songs will never see huge airplay.  They’re too moody, and too smart.  And some are barely songs at all.  Call them “soundscapes.”

    All of HTTT’s fourteen tracks, regardless of guitars, drum loops, or undefined noises, have one tying thread: Thom Yorke’s voice.  Love it or hate it, his wailing, soaring notes are more haunting than ever, and can pass from clean and beautiful to raking and ferocious in a heartbeat.  Thom doesn’t simply sing anymore; on first listen, you’ll be lucky if you can identify one clear word or phrase per song.  He now uses his voice as the most versatile musical instrument in the band, bending it the way you would a guitar string, to create just the right effect.  When I hear it, I can’t help but think of another bizarre, eclectic, sweetly-voiced artist, Bjork.  She has followed roughly the same musical path as Radiohead, from more mainstream to her very own stream, and Thom and Bjork have worked together on projects in the past couple of years.  Even the dark forest music video for “There There” resembles Bjork’s teddy bear nightmare, “Human Behaviour.”  Vocally, the similarities mount further.  However, the day I see Thom Yorke wearing a swan dress and a tutu, I may have to poke my eyes out with toothpicks.
 
  Once you go online and find a copy of the lyrics, you may be surprised by just how meaningful, and political, they are.  The first song’s title, “2+2=5,” comes straight from George Orwell’s book 1984, and this vision of a cruel, manipulative ruling party continues through the album.  In “Sail to the Moon,” a song for Thom’s newborn son, when he sings, “Maybe you’ll be president, but know right from wrong,” it’s hard not to know what he’s getting at.  Oppressive forces and sly creatures lurk everywhere in this album, as do moments of biting humor.  From the ridiculously slow handclap march of “We Suck Young Blood” to the silly narrative of “A Punch Up at a Wedding,” Thom & the boys slap back at the bullies (a.k.a. Dubya and his cronies) by mocking them in song.  Music can soothe the savage beast, and this is expressed brilliantly in the final song of the album, “A Wolf at the Door.”  As the wolf threatens to steal his children, Thom literally sings him a lullaby in an attempt to put him to sleep.  We need to flood Washington, D.C. with copies of this song, I think.
 
  Dark moods, cutting-edge sounds, startling vocals, and intelligent lyrics are what we’ve come to expect from Radiohead, and they deliver on all counts here.  If the album feels like it kind of drags in the middle, give it a few extra listens, especially with headphones, and let the sounds wash over you.  As usual, you need to spend time with a Radiohead album before it fully kicks your ass.  If there are any qualms I have about Hail to the Thief, it would be that I wish some of the songs were longer.  “Go to Sleep” peters out just when you start to get into it.  Hmm, now that I’ve written this, I realize that I’ve analyzed this album in the same way I mocked other reviewers for in the beginning.  I guess it was unavoidable.

So have Radiohead saved rock and roll once again?  No, they’ve just raised the bar above anyone’s reach.  Pressure’s on for your next album already, boys.

        Five out of Five Monkeys