I may be the only person on this site that professes a dislike of Radiohead. It’s not a hatred, though I may have stated it as such from time to time. I understand and appreciate their importance and weight in the development of modern alternative music. Heck, I like some of their songs. But, for one reason or another, I never listen to them on my personal time. If I were a betting man, I’d put it down to not getting the same jolt that other people do from the band, then being confused and frustrated by the overwhelming fever that the world at large seems to have. But, to each their own.
Due to that frustration, I never sat down to the “game-changing” In Rainbows in its entirety. I’d once sat down to a few tracks at a friend’s and walked out of the room, unimpressed. The pay-what-you-feel downloadable album is certainly innovative, but that didn’t seem to carry over into the music. But, for the sake of exploring my seemingly unbelievable non-fandom, I’ve decided to give the album another shot, from start to finish.
The distended, crunchy, effected synth-drum line that begins “15 Step” is a little less pop than I remember it being when I’d first heard it. The claustrophobic, spilling-out-of-his-mouth lyrics are nothing new for vocalist Thom Yorke, but they sound pretty apt paired with the electro-beat. I’ve got to say, I was enjoying it. But, around 40 seconds in, slinky, Nintendo-synth-sounding guitars produce a goofy, neon-colored world that just doesn’t make sense to me. Then, the guitars, keeping the same tonal qualities, move into a minor key, Yorke’s vocals now an echoed moaning. This is the Radiohead I knew and didn’t get: melancholy, big melodies, and sounds.
“Bodysnatchers” doesn’t seem to sate my query for innovation in the music. The guitar riffage is pretty straightforward, the lyrics of alienation and full of vaguely creepy references. The song’s structure isn’t exactly traditional, but the washing crescendo “structure” isn’t exactly new either. It’s a rocker, to be sure, and the main guitar riff is pretty darn cool, but it doesn’t seem all that different or special from other late 90’s alternative bands’ work. The choral vocal harmonies at the start of the very pretty “Nude” are more Grizzly Bear than Smashing Pumpkins, though, so there’s that. The haunting, just off-center melody, aching strings and faltering warble of Yorke’s voice make this track a winner. It’s something I could see myself listening to, and I guess that’s what this was all about.
Phil Selway’s snappy drumming begins “Weird Fishes”, followed by swooping and falling guitar arpeggios and Yorke’s crooning about how he’s stuck at the bottom of the ocean because he’s in love, to put it simply. At this point, I begin to want to get up and walk around. “I get it, Yorke,” I say to myself. “Life is tough. You’re frustrated and in love and not everything is perfect. Enough already!” The music, though, is great. The big, driving build-up and spiraling guitars are great, but the song as a whole isn’t doing it for me.
“All I Need” continues the trend. Electronic (probably) drumming, blooping, minor, bassy sounds and Yorke wallowing. The lyrics are in the trademarked Thom Yorke is Confused, Vague and Emotional school; case in point, the repeated “It’s all wrong, it’s all right” at the end of the song. It’s not bad music, but it’s just so much more of the same. They’ve changed their musical basis and song-writing structure: the traditional verse-chorus-verse of Pablo Honey is no longer, the rock guitar of “Fake Plastic Trees” and the like replaced by the weirdest electronic instruments money can buy. But the formula still adds up to much of the same result.
The lyrics to “Faust Arp” are vague enough that I can’t confirm they’re about life/love being confusing. The finger-picked guitar and soaring string section have drawn comparisons to The Beatles, which is fitting. The song’s a real gem, loopy (how’s “wakey wakey, rise and shine” for an opening line) and sincere (the instrumentation is so deep and crushing) simultaneously, the track fuses the best parts of Radiohead without all of the moping. “Reckoner” returns to the cold, musically, complete with icy cymbals, chilled falsetto and frozen, repeated guitar lines. The less specific, more encompassing lyrics keep the coldness from overwhelming, though. The melody is a keeper, too, wafting around, fluid and beautiful.
The sappy ballad that is “House of Cards” follows, and I realize I’m getting rather close to the end of the album. The ghostly, wordless harmonies in “Jigsaw Falling Into Place” are much more interesting than the “boy meets girl, boy is confused” lyrics, and they keep the song from falling into a straightforward trap. The good, but ham-fisted “Videotape” is one I’ll come back to. It’s charming in its sincerity and clarity: Yorke sings about his family and their hold on him, despite all the craziness and difficulty of life on the road. The sentiments aren’t new, but the music and lyrics are too heart-baring to ignore. It doesn’t seem to mesh with the rest of the paranoid, claustrophobia throughout the album, but that doesn’t matter when you produce something as shockingly simple and yet powerful as this.
All in all, I don’t want to throw up. I’ll be more likely to pick out a few songs to keep and scrap the rest of it, but the album isn’t bad. It’s just nowhere near as ground-breaking (musically, mind you) or amazing as Radiohead uber-fans would lead you to believe. I still don’t like In Rainbows. There, I’ve said it. I certainly give them credit for keeping fans happy, establishing a new way to sell music, and producing strong music. But I just don’t love it.
