Radiohead Reviews Part 1

Preface:

Radiohead has been my favourite band for almost 11 years now. To be honest, I don’t know exactly what it is about them that reaches out and grabs me with such intensity. All I know is that every album has been there at some special time in my life, and that in the past 11 years I have grown as the band has grown.

In order to help myself understand my love for this band I have decided to review each of their records. I know that this has been done hundreds of times, and I do it less to enter into the conversation as I do to understand myself. I plan on writing one review each day or two until they’re done, and if I like doing it I may tackle the EPs too. We’ll start at the beginning…

______________________________________

Pablo Honey (1993)

Rather humble beginnings for a band that went on to shape the end of the decade in music. Of course in the early nineties the kings were Nirvana, and this album is heavily indebted to that group. Not entirely derivative, but not the innovative heights we would see on later albums either.

The music is fairly general poppy alternative rock. Some tracks, such as “Vegetable,” where Johnny plays the guitar with a paintbrush, show the bands future experimentation, but in general this record is a product of its times. Some songs show transcendence though, the soaring vocals of “Stop Whispering” are truly magical, and “Anyone Can Play Guitar” shows the germination of Johnny Greenwood’s explosive and violent guitar assault.

The Radiohead song that everyone knows is “Creep.” It was so ubiquitous that the band was initially labeled as one hit wonders stateside. The song is a simple pop song, made interesting by Johnny’s violent “chugga chuggas” and Thom’s always impressive falsetto. The band really hates the song now, as evidenced by some humorous segments in the Meeting People Is Easy documentary released in 1998. In one performance Thom stands looking bored holding the microphone out to the audience as they scream the song’s verses, before taking the microphone himself to deliver the most ridiculously overblown and off-key version of the chorus you’ll ever hear. It is hilarious, and I wonder if anyone in the audience that night caught the irony.

The real downfall of “Creep” is the same downfall of the album as a whole: irritating, immature, self-deprecating lyrics: “I wish I was special, you’re so fucking special, but I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo.” Not to mention the embarrassing “Thinking About You:” “I’m playing with myself, and why should I care if you’re not there.” Thom has always been known for his depressive fair, but at least on later albums it serves a purpose other than teen angst and sexual frustration.

This album is certainly flawed and dated, but that is part of its charm. It is still a “fun” (if you can call it that) and nostalgic listen. Easily the band’s weakest record, but it still shows small glimmers of the greatness that is to come, and those moments are good enough to make some of the mediocrity palatable.

3/5