Greetings all. I have been layed up with a rather nasty headcold for the past few days, so have been pretty much unable to do anything involving a great deal of movement or rational thought, which has obviously given me the opportunity to think more about my blog.
I'm going to try and post music review-type things fairly frequently from now on, as I realise the details of my life may not be the most interesting things in the universe (top five maybe...). This week/month/decade I shall be looking back at Radiohead's back catalogue, they're one of my favourite bands, and I think their musical progression over the years has been fascinating. Being a lazy conventionalist I shall start from their first album and work my way towards the most recent, so no surprises that this post will be about Pablo Honey (see what I did there?).
After reforming once they had finished university, Radiohead soon became big names in the strnagely mongrel UK alt rock/grunge/shoegazing scene, and their first album definately shows a combination of American and British influences. Get your bowl-cut ready, its getting grungy in here.
The first track You begins with a strikingly bright guitar arpeggio, with Thom Yorke's hoarse vocals telling an unknown individual that they are "the sun and moon and stars" but seems hindered by self-doubt. A textbook example of early 90s rock, full of self-loathing and grandiose metaphors, expertly mixing soft and hard sections with dissonant distortion, You is a superb introduction to the album, which combines catchy strumming, a tense, angsty atmosphere and stunningly painful howls from Yorke.
Creep follows this, as what some call the main feature of the album. I have to say, unlike a number of other Radiohead fans, I have never really gotten tired of this song, though its certainly not their best. That well-worn, melancholy picking from Ed O'Brien being a textbook example of how to create an uneasy, uncertain feeling in a song. What can only be described as massively distorted guitar crunches from Johnny Greenwood throw the listener bodily into the anthemic (and quite timeless) chorus, telling the story, all too familiar to many teenagers, of being caught between jelousy, attraction and self-hatred.
The snappy How Do You? arrives hot on the heels of the last notes of Yorke's "I don't belong here". Its a rollocking (people need to use this word more often) alt rock bouncer of a track, about an unpleasant individual getting a well-deserved eviceration from Yorke, always a pleasure to listen to, and one of the few Radiohead tracks that are acceptible to play at parties.
Next we hear the very REM-esque Stop Whispering which interestingly makes the first four tracks of Pablo Honey make the sentance "you creep how do you stop whispering" which may or may not mean anything (hint: its the second one). Stop Whispering is another big catchy-chorus number, though the first with an extended instrumental section, dealing with feeling confused about how to express yourself. A decent track, but a bit of a one-tick poney, and doesn't seem to go anywhere.
Fortunately the next track is the gorgeous Thinking About You a brilliant consideration of unrequited love ("should I still love you?"). Thom Yorke's voice resonates with resigned pain over a basic acoustic guitar progression and minimal electric twangings, but in its basicness Thinking About You hits home; Yorke's vocal melody, dripping with hurt and cynicism, yet still sensitive enough to draw you into its story.
Then along comes Anyone Can Play Guitar to bring us back to the realm of boisterous Brit-pop riffing* ironically telling us the advantages of being in a band, even if the world is burning, because, after all, anyone can play guitar then "they won't be a nothing anymore". Piercing lead guitar cuts through as Radiohead make yet another brilliantly catchy chorus to get stuck in your head forever.
The harshly sarcastic Ripcord powers its way into one's ears next, another rocky song, playing to be a powerful comment on dissatisfaction with the certainties of modern life, which it is largely sucessful with, through like Stop Whispering it seems to stop going anywhere after a while - despite being an enjoyable song, Ripcord feels a little like grunge-by-numbers.
Next we have the most underrated song of the album, the brilliantly cathartic Vegetable. Its about not wanting to bite your tongue, about being left feeling empty by the easy suburban life, and captures that perfectly. An almost cheerful-sounding verse line (if a guitar can sound sarcastic, it manages it here), makes way for the harsh, torn-up guitars of the chorus whilst Yorke declares "I'm not a vegetable, I will not control myself!" It could be voted in as an anthem for the entire of Generation X. Vegetable is the kind of song that makes you want to see a band live, to hold your fist in the air and generally jump around like an idiot. A joy to listen to.
The next track, Prove Yourself sadly sits as a bit of a filler track, angst - tick, soft and hard parts - tick, memorable lyrics - tick, yet somehow it all just comes off a little limp. The brilliantly spat vocal "I'm better off dead" accompanies some pretty nice drumming (something a little lacking in this album), but otherwise nothing special when compared with the rest of the album.
Sadly sticking with the same theme, I Can't has stong lyrics and some nice use of feedback, but the overall feel is still a little tired-out, like they've tried to write the same song a number of times and its lots a bit of its zing, and Thom Yorke's vocals for the first time get to be a little annoyingly whiny here. A competant effort, but nothing special here, move on.
Lurgee, the penultimate song on Pablo Honey shows a bit of a return to form, some extremely well-crafted arpeggios drift over the listener, as Thom Yorke tells us he "got better" from what we are never told, but the song encapsulates nicely the sick feeling that anxiety and self-doubt can bring. Lurgee therefore, has the strange honour of being a Radiohead song with a positive outlook, a nicely minimal track with a relaxed feel.
Unfortunately, Yorke et al end their debut album with perhaps the most boring song they ever wrote, Blow Out. I had actually forgotten it even existed until I listened to the album for this. Annoying light-jazz-cliche style guitar licks waft around you, whilst Yorke sings about something to do with his head (?), I'm not really sure, the lyrics seem to be unable to stick in my mind they're so dull. Even when the guitars get heavier and more cutting, its utterly forgettable. I always skip this track and so should you. I'm off to listen to Thinking About You to make myself feel better. Yes you read that correctly.
Unsung hero of the album: Vegetable, obvs. Enjoy!
Feel free to comment on my little review. I'm open to suggestions about how to improve my analysis. Next time - we all get The Bends! (just kidding, I'll be reviewing an album by Radiohead called "The Bends", it was just a clever pun, you see. Please stop crying)
*Ususally I hate defining Radiohead as "Britpop" but with this album the term does seem to stick, at least with some of the tracks.
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