Saturday, December 17, 2005

The Three Epochs of Radiohead

Once you have cut through Radiohead’s cluttered back catalogue jam packed full of relatively unheard, and often only released in Japan, EPs you find that the back bone of Radiohead’s music lies within just six albums. These albums span 16 years of composing which turned into experimentation and back again; a progression which mirrors the musical transitions undergone by Radiohead.

The band found its routes just as Pure Reason Revolution did in that the band met at posh Oxford institutions and from there they moved to Exeter university and although official records say that they put music on the back burner for two years I have inside information which says that actually they began to make a solid name for themselves around the Exeter campus in the late ‘80s. They were born under the rather unimaginative name of “On a Friday” because that was the only day the band could meet after college but upon launching their first demo, “The Manic Hedgehog demo”, in 1991 they soon assumed the name Radiohead after the talking heads song of the same title. The step from these rags to the first cobble on the road to riches took two years in the making and there the Radiohead story truly begins.

Cretaceous Radiohead
The cretaceous Radiohead unfurled their banner as, quite simply, a quality British indie/alternative band, nothing more and nothing less. It would be improper to neglect the fact that during the Pablo Honey and The Bends years they did mature remarkably. They matured to the extent that ’95 saw them really keeping up with the big boys in a year that was defined by quality indie acts such as Oasis and Blur’s house in the country.

Pablo Honey is a well packaged collection of 12 well cut 3 ½ minute tracks which have timely major chord changes, clean guitar riffs and lyrics which make at least an ounce of sense. Certainly some of the messages are almost positive such as “Anyone can play guitar” and for die hard Radiohead fans, even just one album later, they could retrospectively wipe a bead of sweet from their brow in the knowledge that “positivity” was a theme that was to be short lived with this group.

Some of the slightly more ominous tracks like “You” and additions such as the melting pot of white noise which forms the intro to the ultimately motivational “Anyone can play guitar” ear marked the band for the path of alternatively from album one. Without wishing to ruin the surprise, it suffices to say that this path transpired to be an overgrown and windy path down which the band continued to get utterly lost almost until the present day. Only one song kept them in touch with civilisation for the two year interval that succeeded Pablo Honey and that was “Creep”. Almost inexplicably the song became really popular despite no one knowing exactly who or what the song was about and who ever it was, they certainly didn’t come across as the type who would be on the invite list to Blur’s country house warming party. If I am being brutally honest, it is a song which will always have a place in my heart as Radiohead’s ticket to popularity but I certainly can’t see myself ever liking it. The lyrics are for some unfathomable reason equal to a pin on a black board and I think the overall story interwoven into the lyrics is some what grotesque. I can easily imagine Norman Bates quoting this song: “I don’t care if it hurts, I want to have control because a boy’s best friend is his mother etc etc..” Furthermore the slasher movie image I have isn’t alleviated in anyway by the music; the way the intro music slowly rises in semitones conjures images of mist on the moor and the howl of the hound of the Baskervilles. If I wanted to lend a musical comparison I would have to categorise it as a modern version of the sinisterly natured “Careful with that axe Eugene” which is Pink Floyd’s B-side on Dark Side of the Moon. In short its music to slash you wrists to, and I am safe in the knowledge I am not the only one who labelled it thus-from Radiohead’s point of view it proved to be a success so from that point on they set the controls for depression and continued with Vigour.

Admittedly they didn’t jump right into the deep end of depressing music with The Bends but there was definite progression. The song “Bullet proof (I wish I was)” has very dark undertones and tells a story of suppression and suffering. But this wasn’t the only marketable difference that came with The Bends, in those two short years the band developed musical intelligence and cutting edge and compositional complexity. Certainly a good example of this is “My Iron Lung” which actually appeared on an early EP of the same name but was released in almost its identical form on The Bends. The song teases and tantalises, with a few early developments and crescendos based on the opening riff before, near to the end, it builds to a climax of distorted calamity before abruptly dissolving into single note movement accompanying Yorke’s imploring tones, and as quickly as the melee died it springs back to life with crushing arpeggios and gun shot like off beats.
I believe that The Bends was the band’s first good contribution and the success of the album in shops began to make alternative music popular against big brother Pure Indie.

The Big Bang
Up until now Radiohead had been successful, they had found fame with Creep and showed their ability with The Bends; furthermore bearing in mind Johnny Greenwood still drives a Metro 1.1, we can safely assume this frugal bunch were taking home a tidy packet and hiding it under the mattress. But success was never their destiny, they destiny was greatness and the catalyst for this was undoubtedly “Ok Computer”. It is difficult to quantify the artistic significance of this disk but for comparison’s sake it truly was to Radiohead what Urban Hymns was to The Verse or what Sergeant Pepper’s was to The Beatles or Joshua Tree to U2. The undisputed winner of Q’s record of the year 1998 and it still regularly appears in all time greatest album charts, but what makes it soo special? Firstly it was the first album produced by the visionary Nigel Godrich and R.E.M’s Michael Stipe added his expertise also. Secondly with regard to the music itself I really felt it was plucked off the indie turning electronica vine at exactly the right moment. Three years on from The Bends and they continued down their directionless path of alternatively but they always refrained from straying too far in order that they might be close enough to appeal to the crowd who had discovered the cool in alternative. OK Computer was, on the surface, simply a stronger dose of Radiohead’s particular brand of complex and quirky alternative and by god did it slide down smoothly. Just the electric quality of the vocals combined with random synth in “Climbing up the walls” brought out the electronica element while the memorable guitar riffs featured in “Airbag” kept that umbilical chord to indie, which people weren’t quite willing to let go of entirely by 1998. This isn’t simply a damning generalisability about society’s unwillingness to experiment with music, but is instead a statement based upon the fact that even by the release of Kid A, the public proved they were still to some extent indie birds at heart and still unprepared to cut the chord all together.

Jurassic Radiohead
Undoubted the period which brought Radiohead the most amount of fanatical fans and detractors in equal measure was Jurassic Radiohead. Barr the release of a live recording of the original Woodstock there have been few pre-release periods which have sparked such levels of hysteria and speculation as the run up to the release of Kid A. In effect I believe Radiohead were damned regardless of what they produced because people wanted music of the same significance and depth as that of OK Computer. Realistically, for the 0.1% of bands that do come up with a genre defining cut it ultimately proves to be the album of a life time and music lovers would be naïve to expect a follow up of equal magnitude. In hindsight I think the band actually took the best decision possible in not trying to recreate OK Computer but instead moved on and pushed the boundaries. The way in which they so wholeheartedly embraced electronica for Kid A and Amnesiac did two things: Firstly it set a world first for a rock band almost totally switching allegiance and secondly it made the music world draw a sharp breath. Simply people weren’t ready for it and the industry predictions of album number 1 both sides of the pond in a week just never materialised with the sort of explosion people were priming themselves for.

This was music of a different kind, it was two albums recorded simultaneously and once again under the guidance of Nigel Godrich, but it was so far removed from what had gone before. No longer did the band define themselves with memorably dark riffs such as those featured in “Karma Police” or “No Surprises” but they set themselves apart through rhythms and unmatched originality. The band’s movement west was not only typified by the records, but by the entire way they set about their professional lives as a band. Both records were brilliantly marketed as internet demos for months before the actual CDs were pressed and people felt exclusive and special for having the latest Radiohead downloaded before the CD was released. Truly only a band of Radiohead’s quirky status could have made this work for them, as in truly oxymoronic style, this approach actually increased album sales when it was finally released. The trench coat type weren’t only confined to their bedrooms in order to feel like Radiohead were making music just for their ears, the tour proved to be hugely popular as people were intrigued to hear this wholly new approach to being a band; across Europe they refused to play up to their football stadium band stereotype and chose to play amphitheatres and concert halls away from capital cities. People felt they could get close to the band and see them in their home town.

It is easy to imagine how the indie/alternative crowd were utterly disappointed (myself included for a period) with Kid A and stupid moves like Thom Yorke drowning away on “Pyramid Song” for five minutes on TOTP really didn’t do them any favours, but at the same time many people embraced the change and many more electronica fans found that there was something by Radiohead for them. Although they did undergo a sweeping style change, they did manage to incorporate some factors which had proved successful in the past, listeners need look no further than “Morning Bell” or “You And Whose Army” to find the depressive quality that had formerly been so prevalent in their first three records; even “Optimistic” is ironically mistitled. For me the pick of Kid A has to be “Idioteque” whose punchy rhythm and shotgun electronic fills make it positively danceable against many other tracks. Although it is more than five minutes long the beat doesn’t seem to get boring as it is interspersed with fast beats on the closed high hat and more sombre electronic groves. If it is true variation that you desire then look no further than the last track on Amnesiac, “Life in a Glass House” would probably make my top five Radiohead tracks and is a truly memorable ending to close the book on Jurassic Radiohead. “Life in a Glass House” is only the second track of theirs to feature horns, after the rather too freely improvised “National Anthem” on Kid A. The song features a giant of British jazz, the clarinettist Humphrey Littleton, and his small swing group; the opening of the song sounds very much like Guy Barker’s mysterious “Sounds In Black and White” which is an entire 1920’s short film score in one track. But from these smoky beginnings the track develops and grows; above a driving crotchet rhythm each distinct instrumental voice rises and falls one after the other with beautifully ornamented improvisations. The melancholy horn specifically conjures up images of Concierto de Aranjuez played by a mining town brass band. It goes without saying that the piece is replete with some of Yorke’s most wild and haunting lyrical melodies.

Until this day you can still heavily hear the influences of Jurassic Radiohead on their work and I believe that it will be the musical style that will continue to influence them more than their alternative indie strains. It suffices to say that square indie has truly been put to bed and will never again see the light of day under the banner of Radiohead, unfortunately though there will always be more bands who insist on annoying us with it.

Triassic Radiohead
By 2003 the enigma of Radiohead had cooled somewhat and the release of Hail to the Thief, surrounded as it was by political intrigue about the name, didn’t quite have the fanfare that preceded Kid A. Despite its comparatively low key release Hail to the Thief jumped right in as my favourite album yet. It incorporates all the things that made them great over the years even down to the cover artwork. Mainly they incorporated three key elements which had been seen during various stages of their recording career to date.

Firstly they are as depressive as always a la “We suck Young Blood (Your Time Is Up)”, a song which balances meandering minor chords with lyrics and slow hand clapping which sound suspiciously like the tones of the choir of the village of the damned.

Secondly they begun to move back towards melodies and a more obvious use of standard instruments as Triassic Radiohead hailed the point where they began the slow climb down from the pinnacle of experimental electronica which coursed such mixed reviews for Amnesiac. I have the album running as I write and can report that both the last two tracks have contained the sounds of distinguishable instruments. Probably one of the most emotive tracks is “Wolf at the door” which shows off beautifully pained melodies and only a measured use of electronic fills and backings which was what helped OK Computer receive iconic status in 1998.

The third trait is that further than not going over the top with electronica they actually refined their style and proved they could grow in any direction they chose. During Kid A the dance quality rhythms of Idioteque made the track standout as a gem on the album. Now, a few years on a number of tracks on Hail to the Thief have this upbeat quality in both vocals and percussion. Perhaps the best example of this comes in the last minute and a half of “2+2=5” where the pumping drum beat drives relentlessly. In my opinion “2+2=5” merely adds fuel to the political storm caused by the album’s title.

The basic story is that the title makes reference to G W Bush Junior’s spurious second term victory, in which his brother as governor of Florida had a rather red hand. Perhaps it was an innocent coincidence and the band themselves claimed it was in fact referring to the presidential election of 1888; but when anti Bush campaigners carried the slogan “Hail to the thief our commander in chief” it didn’t do much to exonerate them from political angling. The lyrics in “2+2=5” are almost too much to believe as they demand “don’t question my authority” just as Bush maintains his stranglehold on the White House and I would tentatively suggest that the song’s title questions the American’s ability to count votes. This isn’t their only foray into politics, but is certainly their most overt; a little known fact is that if you remove the CD case inlay for Kid A there is a caricature of Tony Blair staring back.

In summary “Hail to the Thief” really brings out all that has been good about Radiohead over the years. They had to suffer a slight come down from Jurassic Radiohead and return more in the direction of their Cretaceous roots but ultimately I believe they found a well struck balance which I have no doubt will serve them well into the future. They are truly a band that stretches out their musical tendrils and return with music that works to make you think, to listen and to imagine. The song “Just” memorably hollers “you do it to your self you do” and this goes to show the greatest part of Radiohead’s evolution: that it really is music for the people.

Monday, December 05, 2005

A Sobering Lesson for Anyone Intent on Mixing Electronica and Country & Western

Today, in the name of musical equality where by I give every band a fair shout, I subjected myself to Clay & Electronic Cowboys (their grammar is the least of their problems believe me). They are a wacky bunch from Dallas fronted and produced by Clay Pendergrass and are available on some label that I didn’t bother looking up because I really didn’t care what it was called. After an excruciating two songs I was relieved to be able to return to hitting my head against a brick wall because that seemed to be a more profitable use of my time.

The first cut available on their website is called “Summertime Blues” and although I’m not someone with a lot of patience its seems to me a tad unfair to leave the only remotely bluesy riff until the song’s cadenza and for it to comprise only one edgy blues 7th. Furthermore the repetitive guitar riff sounded thin and dull and for next time I would recommend they choose a slightly harder variety of cheese to press against the strings if they want a richer tone. To make the entire malaise even more confusing the song is littered with an assortment of random electronic noises and for at least the first half of the track I was under the impression that the noise created by the backing singers was courtesy of a bunch of rowdy drunks communing outside my window.

Not to be disheartened and manfully suppressing the urge to set about the traumatic process of erasing these guys from my brain I soldiered on to “2 or 3 chord punk”. Now although it would be too much to expect Wagneresque ornamentation from a song made up of “2 or 3 chord(s)” I would have expected some mild attempt at modulation. All they had to do was switch to a relative minor or something else equally basic and it would have made it all alright, because, you see, I’m just that easy to please. Furthermore returning to my favourite subject of backing vocals, the atonal moaning sound which can be heard made me think that at any moment they were going to burst in to a cover of “Ghost Town” by The Specials.

Now the cold weather must be addling my brain because even after two wild swings and misses during this kindergarten softball game I did them the good grace of moving on to ”Front Porch”. From the moment I heard rhyming couplets along the lines of: “Phone/home” and ”Plate/great” my heart sank, but then out of the mire emerged something quite clever; they began a nice little vocal cannon which continually clashed and then smoothly resolved itself quite beautifully. I’m quite sure that on the strength of this one song Clay & Electronic Cowboys will have every elevator company in the States trying to buy the rights to their latest material.


Before the band dismisses my comments about elevator music out of hand, just remember what a success Kenny G made out of it.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

To look in the mirror and see…

Dear reader, after seeing this title you may be forgiven for thinking that you had stumbled upon some hormonally charged ranting along the lines of “I wish I was anyone else but me”. Chances are the inner voyeur has got the better of you and you have stopped to indulge in my misery. But I should warn you; you are about to be disappointed. Instead of a lengthy diatribe regarding the woes of a lonely childhood this is in fact a joyous piece celebrating the genius of one man.

Everyone should have someone to look up to, and one person who’s life and work sums up what music is to me is the jazz saxophonist, Sonny Rollins. Throughout my articles I have dropped hints about what I admire in musicians and music and I believe Rollins fits in every category.

In the words of Noel Gallagher “I don’t think there is anything special about who creates the music”. I think this goes to prove that ultimately the music is what performing and composing is all about and not about the aesthetics. Sonny Rollins allowed the music to show its greatness in place of his own; he grew an often unkempt beard, he rarely wore a neck tie and was occasionally spotted performing in the sort hat you would associate with someone about to go fishing. Those who have to dress to impress are often trying to compensate for the true quality of the music they create.

When on tour Rollins lived and breathed the saxophone. Every town he entered, the first thing he would do would be to go to every pawn shop and junk sale and music shop and pick up random saxophone parts. It didn’t matter if it were a chewed mouth piece or a dented and tarnish crook, he would still buy it. Hours before the gig began he would be in his dressing room smoking so much that within a short period of time the room would be obscured in the haze and he would have all of his recent finds laid out on a table. He would stick random parts together and play and play and play and chop and change and make a new saxophone and change the crook and the lig until he had found that sound that he wanted. Every night and every gig he innovated once again. He truly lived the music, in his eyes a tune was not written and then frozen in time but it flowed like a river that wends its way into the distance, forever evolving.

Another remarkable story is that while playing a TV gig and getting a little wrapped up in it all he jumped from the foot high stage and promptly hit the deck. Cast and crew members and the viewing publics thought this was great; everyone said what a cool cat Rollins was for laying down and playing, hes just so hip. But when the track ended everyone was slightly perplexed to see that Rollins didn’t get up, this was because as luck would have it he had broken his ankle, but by continuing to play he once again proved that it was the music that was important and great, greater and mor important than he.

Lastly Rollins managed to control the urge to try and make continual recording returns as he got older; this isn’t a euphemism for him dying of a drug overdose, (which of course would curtail your career) because he certainly hasn’t done that but the point is he respected the closing of the period in which he was a vessel for truly influential music.

In short I believe Rollins is a model of greatness, not because of albums such as Saxophone Colossus but also because of his passion, persona and dedication.

Friday, December 02, 2005

"Has the bus come yet? If the bus came would I be standing here, Knob head?"

Despite my better predictions posted on the 21st November The Arctic Monkeys are proving to be quite popular with plenty of MTV airplay for their video for “I bet you look good on the dance floor” and a short US tour followed by an immediate return to big London venues already planned. Their next song “When the sun goes down” is also getting radio play. Oh I’d love to have been in the NME editors office when they realised that the Arctic Monkeys might actually be big, I’m sure they are kicking themselves right now, unfortunately to remove lips from monkey posterior at this stage would simply be a U-turn, not a very brash rock and roll tactic I must say. But if it is any consolation to the NME big wigs I think no one understands better the Monkey’s limited longevity better than the boys themselves.

Without wishing to trip out, what didn’t start life as being very insightful, lines again; I really believe they have missed the punk bus and despite the old adage, two will not be along shortly. If I may refer you to the video for “I bet you look good on the dance floor” I believe there are numerous tell tale signs which have “god I wish it was ’79 again” written all over them.

Firstly I must profess I haven’t seen a guitar slung so high since the beach boys and although punk shouldn’t be about how it looks I don’t think they are doing themselves any favours by impersonating Paul McCartney. Secondly they chose to have their video recorded in some grainy quality which is somewhat reminiscent of 70s top of the pops and the end screen two tone bubble text just goes to prove my point. Thirdly they went with that popular punk “no fans” look for the video, while they would like to say “we are only in this for the music, not the fans or the money” they are really saying” We wish this was the Hacienda”. The Hacienda was a ground breaking punk venue which opened in Manchester in 1982 and until 1986 didn’t have any customers, a trend reversed by Dave Haslam’s Indies Thursdays. The club eventually slipped under in 1992 but not until it had left its mark on punk and indie, the Happy Mondays have a lot to thank the Hacienda for. Lastly with lyrics like “like in 1984” you will always be walking the fine line of misinterpretation.

In brief conclusion I really think the Arctic Monkeys need to grab what they can before it’s all too late and bearing in mind they have only just reached puberty I seriously suggest they all stay in school. I had an ironic titter to myself upon hearing the last line to their song “Fake Tales of San Francisco” which read “Get off the bandwagon and put down the hand book” while this is an authentic punk message about spontaneity and not following the crowd it does miss the obvious point that you have to be on before you can get off.