The Cavern
Rock & Words
IN RAINBOWS (Radiohead, 2007)
Artist: Radiohead (B)
Recording Dates: Feb ’05 – Jun ‘07
Release Date: Oct 10th, 2007. Internet
Record Label: NONE!
Producer: Nigel Godrich
Rating: 9.5 (MUST HAVE)
Era: (Post)-alternative III: The Dispersion (2000-???)
Subgenre: Alternative
Best Song: Videotape or Nude
Tracklist: CD1: 1) 15 Step; 2) Bodysnatchers; 3) Nude; 4) Weird Fishes/Arpeggi; 5) All I Need; 6) Faust Arp; 7) Reckoner; 8) House of Cards; 9) Jigsaw Falling into Place; 10) Videotape.
CD 2: 1) MK 1; 2) Down Is the New Up; 3) Go Slowly; 4) MK 2; 5) Last Flowers; 6) Up on the Ladder; 7) Bangers + Mash; 8) 4 Minute Warning.
Uff! This album is so difficult to review! Not only because of the number of songs and information, nor because of the format (some don't even consider it a double album), but because of the strange kind of album it is. I think it's Radiohead's most underrated album, yes, even by me. The Bends at least gained recognition later on. And King of Limbs isn't underrated: it's weak. Radiohead has this strange ability to reinvent themselves and surprise us when we think we've seen or heard everything from them. This is their best album since the abstract Kid A, and perhaps the closest to OK Computer in terms of textures and emotion. It doesn't abandon electronic experimentation, but while Hail to the Thief showed signs of returning to a more rock-oriented sound, say about 60%, this one is much more organic, with only a few tracks using electronic elements as embellishment, not as the foundation, except for one or two exceptions. It's even more minimalist, with hardly any instrumentation in some songs, although they don't forget to rock like in their origins with tracks like "Bodysnatchers", their heaviest song since OK.
In Rainbows marked Radiohead's longest gap between albums to date: four years. After the extensive Hail to the Thief tour, which saw the world re-evaluate their early 2000s electronic experiments and reclaim their cult status, Thom Yorke and company took a long break. In February 2005, they regrouped to begin preparations and rehearsals for a new album, although recording didn't start until August. However, things weren't flowing as they had hoped. 2006 began, and they had nothing concrete. The sessions were repetitive and lacked flow. In February, they decided to work with Mark Stent as producer, supposedly to step outside their comfort zone and experiment with someone new, leaving Nigel Godrich aside. But around that time, they felt like touring again and were very busy in the middle of the year headlining festivals, appearing on TV, and touring. They would say it was very helpful because they had fun again and felt like they were 16 again, after the tedious and frustrating studio process. Furthermore, playing live allowed them to refine the songs they had started composing, and not only that, but they also revived several that had only been played live on previous tours, since OK, but had never been released on an album, so they realized they had a lot of material to work with.
After the tour, they resumed recording, stopped messing around, and talked to Godrich, the sixth member of Radiohead... And magic happened! Instead of going into a studio, they did what other bands like the Stones, Zeppelin, or Pink Floyd did when they were stuck: rent a Victorian mansion, move in, and record there. The chosen location was in Wiltshire, and the songs started flowing like water. Later, they would move to a conventional studio, but the album was practically put together in Wiltshire.
But the interesting thing wasn't that it took them over two years to record the album, but how they released it, making Pearl Jam's feud with Ticketmaster seem like an amateurish, anti-mainstream joke. With 2003's Hail, the band had completed their six-album contract with EMI, so they were free agents. Thom Yorke would say: “We don't have a record deal as such… What we want is the old EMI back, the nice, gentle producers who treated music like a beautiful project and didn't get so much trouble from the shareholders. Oh well, there's not much chance of that happening.” Instead of seeking a contract with many, many zeros, they kicked the system in the groin. Since bands usually end up with 7-9% of the album's profits if they're REALLY lucky, they decided to take a risk and release In Rainbows online. Shortly before the release, Yorke told Time: “I like the people at our record label, but…yeah, it probably gives us a certain perverse pleasure to say 'Fuck You' to their decadent working model.” Don't they love him?
In Rainbows was released on October 10, 2007, digitally, via the website www.inrainbows.com , using the services of the British company Packet Exchange. The download included disc 1 with 10 MP3 tracks in a ZIP file. The world was stunned. I mean, I don't doubt that other bands had previously distributed their albums exclusively online, but those were up-and-coming or mediocre bands, none of the size of Radiohead. To top it off, there was no fixed price on the download site; each user paid what they considered fair for the album! Of course, there were plenty of opportunists who didn't pay anything (a shilling was the minimum), but on average, they paid £4, supposedly selling 1.2 million copies on the first day alone. The major record labels swallowed hard. Billboard didn't report it because they claimed that online sales weren't measurable or reliable... (cough cough iTunes, cough cough???)
The album gained notoriety for its unusual format. The band justified it by saying that all their previous albums had leaked online before their release anyway. The truth is, even though a third of the downloads only paid a penny, they ended up earning more than they would have with any percentage through a record label, because they kept virtually 100% of the profits.
In the end, Radiohead returned to their almost standard model. Online distribution was open until December 3, 2007, after which the download option was removed. From December 3, the option to pre-order the physical album appeared on the same website. The package included the CD with a second disc of eight unreleased tracks, plus two vinyl records featuring all the famous Radiohead artwork and lyric books by Stanley Donwood, their regular designer. All for the modest price of 40 pounds. Well, I suppose they had to recoup their money from those who paid a shilling.
Actually, that was the pre-ordered Deluxe package. The regular double CD was released in December in Australia and Japan and in January 2008 in Europe and America. And here's the real twist on In Rainbows: If you're surprised to see different labels on the discs, it's because, not being fools, Radiohead retained ownership of the album and simply signed a distribution license agreement with Warner Chappell Music Publishing and other record labels that acted only as intermediaries in each country, "paying" to distribute the album and not "the other way around" as is usually done. In Rainbows was distributed as software, and the record labels bent over backwards to the licensing model! A "loan" of their intellectual property that the band made to the labels for a limited time and under their conditions, with the distributors keeping a small percentage of the sales. Few realize that the true revolution in the album format lies here, not in the online release! Radiohead proved to be a band powerful enough to take control of their work and the market. He stopped being a puppet left with crumbs of the profits and started establishing a proper model. The previous online release was a kind of test to finally convince the distributors, and if they had refused, they could have continued with that format without any problem. But I think what they wanted to demonstrate was something else, and they did. Jon Pareles of The New York Times described it as the boldest experiment in the record industry in years. Perhaps the biggest step forward for bands since Peter Grant negotiated royalties and concert percentages for Led Zeppelin! By October, they had already sold 3 million physical copies, and it closed 2008 as the best-selling vinyl album. King of Limbs would be released under the same licensing model.
Regarding the controversy about whether it's a double album or not… for me, there's no doubt. Although most reviews only cover the first 10 songs. It's obvious to me that splitting it was part of the release strategy, but essentially it is a double album. The first part is clearly stronger, but perhaps the second is more emotional, and it continues in the same style despite some filler tracks and weaker moments.
Musically, it's difficult to describe. We've already mentioned that Hail to the Thief was a kind of amalgamation of the styles they'd explored since 1997. Nothing different can be said about In Rainbows, except that it's even more organic. It's like a continuation of Hail, but improved. It's not exactly a sequel, though. It's more melancholic, much more personal, passionate… human! We have the most prominent guitar presence since OK: From the walls of distortion in "Bodysnatchers," the arpeggios, etc., Jonny and Ed's roles become more prominent than they have been in 10 years. Phil becomes a pillar that holds the whole album together with his drumming, delivering his best performance on a Radiohead album to date, with a jazzier and more complex style, without hogging the spotlight. Thom also looks unrecognizable. That is to say, he still has his peculiar voice and inimitable falsetto, but he sounds human for the first time in 10 years, far removed from that robotic and impersonal style. He again takes risks with high registers, reaching the limit of his range as in "Nude," and serves to unite and give cohesion to all the songs. At times he is more of an instrument, as in "Jigsaw Falling Into Place" where he begins with those "hummms." It seems that it doesn't matter what Thom is singing or murmuring, but how he does it, leading the rest of the band. band with her voice and the brilliant melodies.
The lyrics are also a departure. Yorke writing love songs? Yes! In “House of Cards” he throws in lines like “I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna be your lover.” Thom would say the lyrics were “seductive.” I wouldn’t want to be in Rachel’s shoes, his girlfriend-wife, hahaha. I actually think the existential, consumerist, technological, and political anxieties they had explored on a grand scale in the previous four albums give way to a more personal angst. A midlife crisis? I don’t know, it’s a bleak album, but at the same time full of hope, unlike the other albums. It’s hard to explain, but I think with In Rainbows they close the lyrical cycle they had been working on since OK.
It's funny. I just adopted a dog. If someone had told me when I was 17 that I'd be an employee by now, with a house, a garden, and a mortgage, married, with an adorable boy and girl, and a mixed-breed dog with some Golden Retriever in her blood, and Friday afternoons spent drinking beer and dancing, I would have laughed in their face. That sounds so utterly and absurdly average! If they'd also told me I'd be happy with it, I think I would have punched them. And yet, now that my family is complete with my mutt and I'm listening to this album, that feeling comes over me… What was I expecting from life? It definitely wasn't this. Yorke would say the album is about the panic of realizing you're going to die. I mean, you always see it as so far away. You're always waiting for something from life that will make you happy. There's always something missing, it will always be better in the future. And when we're finally close to death, we realize that life passed us by while we were waiting for something from it, when the reason for life was life itself. “The Discomfort of Mortality,” my wife calls it. I think the album isn't about the fear of death, but the fear of life. Of realizing it. Of that jolt of reality that sometimes hits you and makes you ask yourself, “How the hell did I get here?” Anyway, at least that's the impression it leaves me with. That life slips away without warning. I suppose even Thom Yorke, with all his musical legacy, experiences these existential doubts on a more personal level. Behind the rockstar persona, he has a house (mortgage-free), probably with a garden, with his girlfriend/wife, a son, and a daughter. I don't know if he has a damn thing…
The album opens with “15 Step”. What immediately grabs me isn't Selway's dry, electronic drum beat, reminiscent of the abstractions of Kid A or Amnesiac. No, what hooks me are the opening lines: “How come I end up where I started? How come I end up, where I went wrong?” The lyrics are minimalist and abstract, somewhat reminiscent of the aforementioned albums, but they effectively establish the album's theme with those two lines. Despite its Kid A-esque style, a significant difference is noticeable when the Greenwood brothers enter, with Jonny's jazzy, clean guitar playing with harmonics and scales, while Colin lays down a colossal bass line starting around the two-minute mark. Phil Selway creates an incredibly intricate drum loop. I'm not a huge fan of his electronic drums, but the pattern he pulls off is undeniably complex, and he plays a truly remarkable role. They build up changes and create a slow crescendo, with a claustrophobic atmosphere. It's one of the songs they perfected on the 2006 tour. Colin and Nigel Godrich were supposed to add handclaps to the song, but they didn't like how it sounded, so they hired some kids from the Matrix Music School & Arts Centre in Oxford, who instead of clapping, can be heard shouting happily in the most unusual sections.
Next up is “Bodysnatchers”, Radiohead’s loudest and most aggressive song, not just on this album, but since “My Iron Lung,” if memory serves. The riff is incredibly powerful and saturated, and I love the way they play with the intensity. They were supposedly aiming for a mix of Wolfmother and Neu! There’s still a certain abstraction, a certain Amnesiac sound, but the band sounds incredibly powerful. In fact, it’s one of the tracks that was recorded “live” at the Wiltshire mansion, which explains the slightly saturated sound and Thom’s vocals having a certain echo. Jonny cranks up the distortion on his guitar, which crackles like never before and intertwines in a superb dialogue with Ed’s guitar at 3:15, exploding for the coda. There’s something ghostly about the effects (Ondes Martenot?) and the echoes. The lyrics are inspired by the novel “The Stepford Wives,” about Victorian ghosts, which I honestly haven’t read. But Yorke manages to squeeze in more lines that continue the existentialist theme: “I do not understand, what it is I've done wrong,” he begins haltingly, “I have no idea what I am talking about, I am trapped in this body and can't get out,” he cries out with a heavy burden of anguish. Here we begin to notice a more energetic Yorke, regaining that monumental melodic command, filling the spaces with hooks, like the “hummms,” “lalalás,” or “nononós” that sound spectral, and which he uses as a vehicle to propel the twin guitar solo, ending with a certain paroxysm. An infectious and powerful track.
“Nude” is a strong contender for the title of best track on the album. They premiered this song live on the OK Computer Tour, albeit with a different arrangement, and refined it over the course of 10 years. This explains its certain desolation, reminiscent of that era. The string arrangements are exquisite; it's the first of five tracks on the album to feature them. It has a certain resemblance to “No Surprises” in its melancholy and powerful melody, but with more recent effects. I'm not sure if it's the Mellotron that opens it. Then come the gorgeous arpeggios, with Ed's guitar lacing each note. Phil's beat is simple yet original, keeping the tempo perfectly in place. Colin delivers another great octave bass line that steals at least the first half. The song gradually builds, with the strings playing a pivotal role. The lyrics are bleak, and also reminiscent of "No Surprises" in that it's almost a lullaby instrumentally, but the lyrics aren't for the faint of heart: "Don't get any big ideas, they're not gonna happen." Yorke sings with moving emotion. He hadn't sung like this in years, reaching the song's climax with that high note in "You'll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking," but again, it's remarkable what he does with his voice when he's not singing the lyrics, with that phenomenal ascending scale at the end. A beautiful track, well worth the 10-year wait for it to be polished.
We continue with “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi”. They started putting it together live on the 2006 tour, and they simply called it “Arpeggi” because of its hypnotic two-guitar arpeggios, but when the lyrics began to take shape, they added “Weird Fishes.” The song is basically that rapid, double-spiral arpeggio, which intertwines beautifully with Ed and Jonny’s guitars—jazzy, funky, and delicate all at once. Ed contributes backing vocals with ethereal shouts while Thom sings. And Phil sounds monumental, driving the crescendo with that complex and incredibly fast beat. He doesn’t need brutal drum rolls to show that he grows with each album. The lyrics really grab my attention. It's a kind of love song: “In the deepest ocean, the bottom of the sea, your eyes, they turn me… Why should I stay here? Why should I stay? I'd be crazy not to follow, follow where you lead, your eyes, they turn me.” Then comes the bit about the worms and strange fish, but essentially it's a surrender to his beloved Rachel Owen. And by surrender I don't mean something bad: “Why should I stay here, if I don't even know how I got here? Because of you.” It's not a negative surrender, but rather the realization that perhaps what you initially envisioned wasn't the best. It's accepting that the present is better with her. And that's why I refer to her as his wife even though they aren't actually married, because the devotion that shines through in the album's lyrics is moving, but not easy on the ear. That's the hopeful aspect of the album. Life is painful. It's never going to turn out the way we plan. But it might turn out even better than we ever dreamed; it's just that we're down there on the ground, gnawed by worms, complaining about what didn't happen… Anyway, the timing is outstanding. From going like a locomotive, they suddenly stop at 3:10, leaving Thom almost alone with the beautiful melody, before exploding again at 3:40, inserting spectral effects and a colossal bass line from Colin. One day I might mark it in red for the great lyrics.
Next up is “All I Need”, which has nothing to do with the Air track. The song is mid-tempo, with Colin Greenwood delivering a powerful guitar solo that carries the song on his shoulders, with off-beats and slight distortion, jumping, stretching elastically, with a dark and sinister, yet innocent, feel. Jonny wanted to recapture the white noise of when they played in small rooms, something that never happened in the studio. Therefore, they had the string section play every note of the scale, filling the frequencies, which gives it that strange, distorted sound. Jonny sets the guitar aside to focus on creating effects with the Ondes Martenot, which gives it a dense feel, and the vibraphone, which provides the innocent tone. At 2:40, a piano-driven crescendo leads to a small climax where all the instruments converge dramatically, including Thom almost sobbing, achieving an unexpected but fascinating progression. The lyrics are a kind of continuation of the previous one, perhaps Radiohead's most direct love songs. Almost painful, confessional bordering on voyeuristic: “I'm an animal, Trapped in your hot car, I am all the days, That you choose to ignore,” leading into the beautiful chorus with a killer melody: “You are all I need, You are all I need, I'm in the middle of your picture, Lying in the reeds…”. The song's emotion is overwhelming.
Next up is “Faust Arp”, a strange song that I find a slight letdown. Again, Jonny and Ed's guitars intertwine in arpeggios, this time more subdued. The string section adds magnificent embellishments, perhaps a bit too pompous. Yorke sings in a very odd counterpoint, with a strange, almost rap-like melody that clashes with the baroque feel of the instrumentation. It's not bad, but I think Thom clashes with the instrumentation this time, creating a very strange effect, although I'm sure that was the intention. It lasts just over two minutes, and I believe that, along with the MK's, this was the only song they didn't play live before the album.
Then comes “Reckoner”, where they recapture the powerful emotion, the melody, the beautiful harmony with the overdubs (or is it Ed?). They began performing this song live in 2001 with the Amnesiac tour. The arpeggios and complex harmonies are reminiscent of that era, but it is undoubtedly much more human, with the beautiful melody and the falsetto with which Thom elongates the syllables and takes the instrumental lead with his voice. The voice practically never stops, creating complex symphonies on its own, intertwining with the delicate string arrangement composed by Jonny. In the final bridge, he continues murmuring until he fades out. Ed would say that the guitar arpeggio was a kind of homage to John Frusciante. Selway provides a complex percussion section with tambourines, maracas, drums, and percussion, which grows with the song in a strange lo-fi mix that contrasts with the clarity of the other instruments. The lyrics were practically rewritten from their original 2001 version: “You are not to blame for bittersweet distractors.” At 2:30, in the section where Thom is almost a cappella, he sings a kind of heavenly refrain, “because we separate like ripples on a blank shore in rainbows,” which is presumably where the album title comes from. The song is beautiful, undoubtedly one of the album's highlights.
We arrive at “House of Cards”, which I don’t think has anything to do with the series starring Kevin Spacey. It’s a lovely, laid-back track, with the rhythm section once again doing a great job behind the scenes. Ed lays down a smooth Bossa Nova rhythm while Jonny plays with a lot of effects, which, combined with Thom’s echoing vocals, create a cavernous effect. Surreal lyrics, sung with conviction, again about unconventional love. A lovely, very relaxed track, in which the effects this time don’t sound jarring, but rather contribute to that ethereal feel. It’s nice, but far from being the best on the album. Even so, it was nominated for Best Rock Song at the 51st Grammy Awards.
“Jigsaw Falling into Place” continues, a faster and more edgy track, with the acoustic guitar playing quick, clean flourishes, while Colin launches into another great bass line, which suddenly takes off and creates tremendous figures. It was originally called “One Pick” as it was being developed live. Thom starts with a low, listless tone, but the song gradually builds in intensity and, without warning, jumps an octave. Jonny's guitar joins in, the backing vocals in the background, and before we know it, we're at full speed, with Selway closing like an octopus with fills, all while maintaining the intense beat. It's incredible how they build the crescendo to that dramatic instrumental bridge at the three-minute mark, which ends somewhat abruptly, always leaving me with a feeling of not knowing what the hell just happened. The tension never explodes, and you're left waiting for the eruption. The lyrics are superb. Thom would explain them by saying they're about chaotic, everyday experiences he witnessed one weekend in Oxford. Young people running around without knowing what they want, where they're going, how that puzzle comes together without them even realizing it. “I never really got there, I just pretended that I had, Words are blunt instruments, Words are a sawn off shotguns, Come on and let it out…” complementing the album's central idea. I suppose there was some lyrical reworking, but it's surprising how songs written over several years complement each other so well. “Wish away the nightmare, You've got the light you can feel it on your back.” The answer to escaping the nightmare is right there; we simply don't want to see it… Another of the album's strong tracks, and one that could easily have fit on The Bends or even OK.
The first album closes with “Videotape”, the most minimalist track. They had been working on it since 2006, and Thom would say it was pure agony. Live, the song was a monumental crescendo with a climactic, emotional point that left everyone trembling. But it was impossible to replicate in the studio. “We tried every conceivable approach.” One day, Yorke went home, and when he returned, Jonny and Nigel had completely stripped the song down to the minimalist version we know on the album. A simple piano dripping a repetitive, melancholic scale, accompanied by a processed beat that gradually unleashes bursts of drumsticks. Phil contributes to that funereal, martial, yet hopeful tone. Thom sings as if he were truly about to commit suicide. The lyrics are sublime, speaking from the perspective of a guy videotaping his farewell because he doesn't dare do it face-to-face, creating a powerful emotional charge, and closing with "No matter what happens now, I shouldn't be afraid, because I know today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen." For many, it was a bit disappointing because it lacked that powerful eruption they achieved live. The tension in this version remains latent, but it doesn't explode like in the recordings, with the guitar solo, the tight beat, and the whole band joining in for the coda. This might have given In Rainbows epic proportions. The song as it stands is beautiful, but it leaves the feeling that they didn't fully develop it.
Disc 2 opens with “MK1”, which is a sort of instrumental continuation of “Videotape”, continuing with a vague figure and Thom humming the melody.
Then we move on to “Down Is The New Up”, which opens with a playful piano that vaguely reminds me of some Latin rhythm. Danzón? I don't know. Dark pianos, jazzy drums, and a powerful vocal performance from Thom, who delivers countless melodies, throwing in hooks, pushing his voice to its limits once again, and singing with desolation when he wants. The title says it all, with circus-like lyrics that bombastically announce that everyone is expendable. The apocalyptic bridge with its sublime orchestration at the three-minute mark is exquisite, and it feels like it's about to explode like Vesuvius, but they return to the calm and pessimistic mood to close with a plaintive falsetto.
“Go Slowly” returns to the depressive atmosphere. The vibraphone lends a serene and sweet feel, along with the beautiful guitar arrangement. Thom sings, true to the title, slowly. The latent sound of the synthesizer in the background evokes a misty dawn. There's a hint of hope and light in the notes. It's beautiful, though it also leaves the impression of being unfinished, and of not quite making a smooth transition into the unusual “MK 2”.
It is followed precisely by “MK 2”, another one-minute instrumental, I imagine Greenwood playing with the Martenot waves, in a totally unnecessary way since it does not connect with the previous or subsequent track.
Then the piano notes of “Last Flowers” begin, a beautiful ballad that starts with Thom singing a poignant melody accompanied by the piano. And that's it. At 1:15, an acoustic guitar enters with a warm strum, and the piano picks up the pace. Cathartic, direct lyrics. Again, it feels like we're in the living room listening to Thom speaking in that coded language that lovers have: “If you take me there you'll get relief, Relief, relief, relief, relief... And if I'm gonna talk, I just wanna talk, Please don't interrupt, Just sit back and listen.” I love that shift from minor to major keys at 3:15 to begin the coda. “It's too much, Too bright, Too powerful…”
We return to slightly more abstract themes, reminiscent of Kid A, with “Up On The Ladder”. A rarefied and claustrophobic atmosphere. A good bass riff, but one that sounds somewhat repetitive. Synthesizers reminiscent of The Cure, textures and layers that blend an abstract and ethereal feeling, the guitar always crackling in the background, Selway's kick drum like a heartbeat. That crackling or scratching, like old acetate at 2:15, as if static were seeping into the headphones… A very strange track, and one that I'm not sure fits entirely with the mood of the rest of the album as a whole, except lyrically, where Thom's existential doubts continue: “I've been climbing up this ladder, I've been wasting my time.”
“Bangers + Mash” doesn't fit in either, and in fact, I think it's the only ugly filler track on the album. A repetitive and annoying riff, a festive, funky atmosphere that suddenly turns dark. Thom raps, with very little sense of melody, although he still sings like a human and not a robot. The rhythm section is very good, but the track ends up being repetitive, abstract, jarring, and annoying.
We close with “4 Minute Warning”, which is indeed four minutes long. It begins with a drawn-out Ondes Martenot that lasts almost a minute. Then the bass (it’s a double bass, if my ears don’t deceive me?) and tambourine kick in, laying down the foundation for Thom’s melancholic voice, announcing that it’s a nightmare and someone is about to wake him up. There’s something desolate in the way he sings, yet also full of hope: “I don’t wanna hear it, I don’t wanna grow old, I just wanna run and hide…” which ends leaving us in suspense, as if the whole band were suddenly going to return for a colossal finale. But they don’t.
In Rainbows is a beautiful album where Radiohead explores the sounds of basically their entire discography. There are songs that could fit on almost any of their albums, except for Pablo Honey. But at the same time, it sounds cohesive, with a strong lyrical backbone, without necessarily being a concept album. Yorke returns with the full power of his voice and as a melodic master, something we've missed. Phil Selway shines, not with brutal drum rolls that command applause, but with incredibly complex drum patterns that guide the intensity of the songs, closer to jazz than rock. The guitars stand out like they haven't in 10 years, without blazing, memorable solos, but with arpeggios present throughout almost the entire album, and combinations between Jonny and Ed that work very well. And Colin also delivers some great lines, with a discreet role like Phil, but complex if you listen closely.
So why don't I give it a perfect score, you might ask? Although it's a must-have and one of Radiohead's best albums, it's missing something… I don't know. With Hail to the Thief, I said it was somewhat hazy, and it fades from your mind right after listening to it. Something similar happens here. In Rainbows is more beautiful, more solid, more detailed, and more delicate. But as soon as it ends, you're left with that feeling of "What just happened?" The aftertaste of its beauty lingers in your ears, but it vanishes like a dream upon waking. There isn't a track like "There There," at least, let alone from OK, that really sticks in your mind. It's missing a minute, a definitive explosion, the cathartic moment that might have made "Videotape" the anthem of the 2000s. Several songs seem unfinished, leaving you in suspense, including the final track. The album leaves you with that bittersweet feeling that, on purpose, the band didn't want to finish it, didn't want to make another masterpiece like OK Computer… And I respect that decision.
By Corvan
Dec/13/2013
