The Cavern
Rock & Words
OK COMPUTER (Radiohead, 1997)
Artist: Radiohead (B)
Recording Dates: Sep ’96 – Mar ‘97
Release Date: June 16th, 1997. UK
Record Label: Parlophone / Capitol
Producer: Nigel Godrich, Radiohead
Rating: 10 (MUST HAVE, ICONIC ALBUM)
Era: Alternative II: The Great Explosion (1990-1999)
Subgenre: Alternative
Best Song: Paranoid Android.
Tracklist: ) 1) Airbag; 2) Paranoid Android; 3) Subterranean Homesick Alien; 4) Exit Music (For A Film); 5) Let Down; 6) Karma Police; 7) Fitter Happier; 8) Electioneering; 9) Climbing Up the Walls; 10) No Surprises; 11) Lucky; 12) The Tourist.
OK Computer is an iconic album of our generation. I don't know if it's the best album of the decade, I'm not even sure it's Radiohead's best album, but it's definitely the most representative album of the '90s, like Sgt. Pepper's was for the '60s, Dark Side of the Moon for the '70s, or The Joshua Tree for the '80s. And you may or may not like the band or the album, but it's a work with such a powerful influence that I doubt any of our readers haven't heard at least one song from it. Countless bands tried to copy it, countless vocalists have since joined the Yorke school, countless guitarists copied Jonny Greenwood's tricks, and even Phil Selway had some drummer disciples. Ironically, after OK Computer everyone tried to continue that sound, except Radiohead themselves, who, after getting fed up with the super hit, tried to break away with their next work, the equally amazing Kid A.
The quality of OK is undeniable. All the tracks are solid and can function as a cohesive unit, even though the band never attempted a concept album; but at the same time, the songs work very well independently. The album has its own distinct character, nostalgic textures, blue tones throughout, echoes, a devilish intelligence, and moments of sheer power. It also has quite a few influences, and for that reason, it's perhaps one of the most representative works of the 90s. While its sound can't be pigeonholed into a single genre, it draws on acoustic elements from Brit Rock, pessimistic and elaborate atmospheres, complex structures with progressive nuances, Rhodes keyboards that evoke Floydian sounds, at times the guitars become powerful, almost ruthless and with a certain grunge influence, at times you can perceive Jutsu-esque melodies, vocal melodies influenced by Pet Sounds, alternative sounds, electronic experimentation, some psychedelic notes with Mellotron… in short, it's a delicious collage, but one that still smells of the 90s and remains fresh at the same time.
OK Computer is one of those rare gems that immediately garnered critical and public acclaim, catapulting this once-despised band, labeled a "one-hit wonder," to unimaginable heights—a godlike status, a status of geniuses—becoming the most powerful band of the late '90s, selling out tours, and having the album hailed as "The New Dark Side of the Moon." I don't know how much of an exaggeration there was at the time, but I think Radiohead deserved this recognition since The Bends, and the success of OK Computer, fortunately, gave its sibling a new opportunity to emerge from obscurity and reach new heights. I first heard a track from this album on MTV, and the video blew me away. I remember telling the friend I was watching it with, who was more amused by the cartoons in the video than the music: "This is going to make history." And indeed, the majesty of "Paranoid Android" is evident from the very first listen. I imagine something similar happened in 1967 and 1973 to those who had the misfortune of listening to other landmark albums.
The band, therefore, decided to record an album that would musically surpass The Bends, without having the slightest idea of what they were going to do, except that they wanted something that matched the density of Miles Davis's Bitches Brew, that they wanted to produce it themselves, and that they were going to record it outside the city and wouldn't set any deadlines, to avoid the tensions that arose during the previous album's production. Aside from that, they were completely blank. So in 1996 they went to Oxfordshire, to the Canned Applause mobile studio, which they chose to be away from the noise and pressure of the city. But the studio, more than that, was a shed that didn't even have a bathroom or a dining area, and to get food they had to drive there. Despite this, by the time they finally decided the studio was too uncomfortable, they had already recorded “Electioneering,” “No Surprises,” “Subterranean Homesick Alien,” and “The Tourist.” Although each member had differing opinions regarding the album's direction, the rehearsals and recording sessions had been smooth and showed considerable musical chemistry among the five of them. They left feeling quite optimistic and headed off for a mini-tour of the United States. They used those 13 dates to introduce the new songs and refine them live. “Paranoid Android” emerged during the tour, originally a 15-minute jam session in the Floydian style, with solos everywhere, but they kept shortening it live until they were satisfied with the final version of almost 7 minutes.
After their series of concerts in the United States, they returned to London to record, this time choosing a Victorian mansion on the outskirts of the city, taking special care to ensure it had bathrooms. Thus, this album not only shares with Sgt. Pepper's and The Dark Side of the Moon the fact that it was partly recorded at Abbey Road Studios, but also with Led Zeppelin IV the fact that it was recorded in an old mansion, which gave it a special echo effect in some parts recorded on stone staircases, such as "Exit Music (For A Film)" or "Let Down," which was recorded in the early hours of the morning in the ballroom. Being on their own, away from the noise, without deadlines, being able to record in the early hours if inspiration struck, stopping whenever they wanted, without deadlines for delivering the material, and with absolute creative freedom, made the recordings flow beautifully. Many of Thom's final vocal takes were the first, and although he recorded other takes later, they felt more strained, so he ultimately settled on the initial ones. Furthermore, most of the songs were recorded live, meaning with the full band playing the song, rather than in parts and tracks, adding each instrument individually, as is usually done. This also helped to achieve a sound more in line with what the band wanted. In October, they returned to Canned Applause's mobile studio for rehearsals only, narrowed down the tracklist, and went back to the Santa Catalina mansion to finish the songs. In January '97, they entered the legendary Abbey Road Studios to add the electronic and string sections, finalize the details, re-record some parts, and for mixing and mastering. By this point, Nigel Goodrich, who had originally been hired as a sound engineer for his work on The Bends, had made such a valuable contribution that he ended up being added as a co-producer.
The result was immense, as we all know. The sheer number of influences on the sounds is incredibly rich, a multitude of textures combined with melancholic atmospheres, generating expansive and inclusive music, full of elements that definitely, for the first time in years, showed rock moving into the future without losing its core sound, taking a step forward rather than back to the 70s. Despite incorporating many electronic sounds, it never loses its rock essence, which is its foundation, and at times it's very powerful, unlike other bands that had tried to incorporate electronic elements, such as U2 with their pop. The lyrics evolved. When they began the recording process, it became clear to them that they didn't want an album as introspective as The Bends, as it would have been boring to repeat themselves. Although OK is also pessimistic, it transcends the individual to focus on the human condition, the duality of the material and non-material worlds, and the effects of technology, the speed of modern life, and alienation on people: "Up above aliens hover, making home movies for the folks back home / Of all these weird creatures who lock up their spirits, drill holes in themselves and live for their secrets." Throughout the album, there are references to office work, corporate ladders, luxury cars, ambition, technology, madness, modern life, capitalism, globalization… Yorke left behind the more adolescent, personal angst of The Bends to focus on a more universal and mature angst. On the other hand, although these themes are present throughout the album, it wasn't planned as a concept album, unlike Dark Side; it's not a linear story told through the songs. However, the band admitted that they did spend a couple of weeks studying the final tracklist and the album's order to provide some continuity. That's why the songs can work individually, but the album takes on a greater dimension when listened to as a unit.
All of this makes OK Computer a brilliant work, meticulously crafted, and a landmark in rock history, achieving a tremendous impact. The band was aiming to surpass The Bends, but they never truly intended to create such a monumental album, nor could they have imagined what they would accomplish. The Bends is a brilliant album, one I sometimes enjoy more than this one, but it must be acknowledged that it is primarily a rock album, and in comparison, it sounds raw, simple, and more personal, which can be seen as a pro or a con, depending on the listener. OK Computer, on the other hand, is a suite that redefined not only the band's sound but also the rules of the game for many others. A true gem of our time.
The album opens with “Airbag”, one of the heaviest and densest tracks on the record in every sense. Complex textures leap off from the very first moments. The drums are an electronic loop remixed from Phil Selway's drums, which they remixed, trying to match the sharply off-beat sound used by DJ Shadow. Thom Yorke and Phil Selway spent a day remixing Selway's drums on a Mac, but both would admit that they didn't come close to the chopped-up DJ Shadow sound they originally intended, due to their inexperience. Perhaps it was for the best, though, as it lends certain trip-hop nuances. The bassline is also innovative, as it starts and stops seemingly out of nowhere while the other instruments continue. Colin Greenwood said he thought about filling the gaps with other lines later, but forgot, and it ended up sounding novel and experimental. From the outset, the complex sounds signal a shift in Radiohead's sound compared to their previous, much more experimental album. Jonny plucks the guitar like a mandolin throughout the song and in the minimalist solo at 2:25. There's a constant sound that I can't quite place—it might be a Mellotron or cellos with a touch of distortion. The keyboards are layered, and the Christmas bells keep ringing from the beginning, creating a nocturnal atmosphere. Overall, the whole thing creates a very dark and unsettling ambiance. There are also false endings, like at 2:20 and 3:30, and then the coda features an instrumental section with a frenzied guitar and Thom sobbing until the very last second. The lyrics are about surviving a car crash, and the song was originally going to be called "An Airbag Saved My Life," a newspaper headline that Thom read and that deeply affected him, along with influences from the Tibetan Book of the Dead regarding resurrection. Regarding this, he said, “Every time you have an accident, instead of sighing and carrying on, you should get out of the car and run down the street yelling, ‘I’m back! I’m alive! Today my life has begun anew!’ In fact, you should do that every time you get out of a car. We just drive these things—we don’t really control them.” One of the best lines here, reflecting this sentiment, is “In an interstellar burst / I’m back to save the earth.” The song as a whole has a somewhat paranoid, but well-received, attitude, not without a certain degree of truth. From now on, every time I get in the car, I won’t be able to shake this feeling that I could die at any moment. Thanks, Thom!
Next up is “Paranoid Android”. I already mentioned the impact it had on me the first time I heard it. I was in shock for quite a while. The following night I had rehearsal with my then-band, Moby Dick, and McFly, the keyboardist, was just as blown away as I was. I remember this because now it's very common to hear “Paranoid Android” called the “Bohemian Rhapsody” of the '90s, but that night, McFly was the first person I heard it from, before the album really took off, the song shook the world, and this comparison became commonplace. It's partly true. Jonny Greenwood himself has said that he thinks the comparison is exaggerated, since it's “very simple and tense” compared to Queen's masterpiece. But even though they acknowledge a certain Queen influence on this song, they weren't the only band they drew inspiration from; there are also influences from Lennon, the Pixies, and Pink Floyd, according to them. The song started as a joke, a kind of bet that they couldn't combine songs from different band members and with different styles (even different keys and tempos!) into one, more inspired by the Beatles' "Happiness Is A Warm Gun" than "Bohemian Rhapsody." They felt like mischievous kids doing something naughty, messing around more than taking it seriously. Thom himself started writing the lyrics more as a joke than anything else, inspired by a scene involving a drunk woman in a bar when someone spilled their drink on her. The title and lyrics originated from this scene (the line "Kicking, squealing, gucci little Peggy" is dedicated to her), and he also drew inspiration from Marvin, the hopelessly paranoid android from Douglas Adams' "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," to emphasize the song's mocking tone. Originally, it even had a keyboard solo by Jonny, but as they assembled it, they took it more and more seriously, polishing it, realizing its potential, cutting out the excess, and finally combining four superb sections that make up the definitive version. The song opens with an acoustic section, featuring a guitar plucked at a dizzying pace, reaching up to 84 beats per minute. The drums are understated, with Thom starting in a confidential tone, but reaching high notes, and Colin laying down a great bass line. At the two-minute mark, the arpeggio shifts to a darker riff, ushering in the second section, which begins with "Ambition makes you look pretty ugly," employing more sinister tones and effects that fill the song with a sense of strangeness and create increasing tension. At 2:42, there's a near-explosion, but they hold back for a moment before the song finally explodes a couple of seconds later, achieving a masterful effect! Around the 2:43 mark, Jonny starts again with the riff, which then transforms into a delirious solo that lasts until 3:30. At this point, the third section begins, slowing down, changing the key, and introducing a spectacular choral sequence. This is one of my favorite parts, with Yorke singing "Rain down, rain down on me..." in a sweet, almost poignant way, and slowly more and more Thoms joins in, in an effect reminiscent of Morrison on "The Soft Parade," creating a colossal and majestic atmosphere in a slow crescendo until 5:36. Then, he returns to the riff from the second part for a brief moment before launching into a beastly solo for the enormous coda, which doesn't let up until the abrupt end, around 6:20. We could write oceans of ink (or bits) about this song, but suffice it to say that it's perfect. The drums are phenomenal, marking the shifts in intensity; the bass is impressive, playing throughout the entire soundstage; the keyboards are precise and nuanced; the two guitars intertwine and play surprisingly well with acoustic duality and electric highs; the vocal melody is beautiful in some parts, wild and furious in others, reaching moments of intimacy, and there are delirious solos and orgasmic outbursts… If I had to choose just one song for the 90s, just one song for that entire decade, it would be this one. It's worth mentioning that, due to the effects used during the recording, it took Jonny more than a year to master the solos to perform them live.
We continue with “Subterranean Homesick Alien”, which is slightly simpler and more accessible than the previous tracks. It was originally going to be called “Uptight.” Here, the band uses electronic keyboards, attempting to emulate the dense atmosphere of Miles Davis’s “Bitches Brew,” being calm at times, and then accelerating to a delirious crescendo seemingly out of nowhere. Thus, the song is full of tempo changes, at times a sweet stroll with keyboard sounds caressing like a gentle breeze, only to then accelerate abruptly, with the drumming stealing the show by marking these rhythmic shifts so perfectly. The title references Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” but it tells the story of an alien abduction in which the protagonist sees the world as he wishes to see it. One of my favorite lines is: “I tell all my friends, but they don’t believe me, they think that I’ve finally lost it completely,” which reminds me a lot of Syd Barrett. It's not one of the standout tracks, but it's very good on its own, and it's a clear reflection of the rest of the album: the band's strength lies in their attention to the smallest detail, which means that in the end not a single note is missing or superfluous.
Next comes “Exit Music (For A Film)”, which was literally written for the end credits of Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 film Romeo + Juliet. Thom Yorke had been deeply impressed with Zeffirelli’s 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet and says he even cried during the final scene where they both die, as he couldn’t understand how two people destined to be together couldn’t be. So they tried to translate that dramatic impact into music. In the new version, the song begins with Juliet holding a gun to her own head. Thom has said that other influences on the composition were Ennio Morricone for the more dramatic parts and the songs from Johnny Cash’s album At Folsom Prison. The song wasn’t included on the soundtrack at the band’s request, so they included it on the new album. The song begins acoustically (Cash's influence?), with Yorke whispering, almost in tears, about two young lovers resting before being discovered. At 1:27, very gothic-sounding backing vocals enter, with a contrast between very deep and very high voices, adding drama and sensitivity to the song. The drums kick in with a tremendous roll at 2:47, along with the guitar played with a mandolin effect, a very elastic bass line, and the Mellotron (I thought it was distorted synthesizers), creating an impressive crescendo. The final climax shows Yorke again on the verge of tears, repeating "We hope that you choke, that you choke…" with the sounds of a storm in the background, as the music fades away. In concerts, Jonny uses a coin as a slide and a special pedal to create those strange sounds at the end, which in the original recording is actually a reversed recording of children playing. The film's director, Baz Luhrmann, even went so far as to say it was one of the best end credits songs ever made. Except for the one from The Devil's Advocate, which obviously wasn't composed specifically for the film, I couldn't agree more.
The fifth song is “Let Down”, whose arpeggios are more reminiscent of The Bends' sound. Many consider it one of the album's highlights, but personally, while I can enjoy it, I don't find it particularly remarkable within the context of the album. The song has good arpeggios (which, I insist, sound more like they belong on the previous album) and a very monotonous electric piano, similar to the one on “No Surprises,” but which sounds a bit cheesy to me here. Another noteworthy aspect of the song is the deep bass line; not because it's spectacular—on the contrary, it's very simple—but it elevates and supports the entire song. Furthermore, Jonny Greenwood's solo at 2:30 is in a completely different time signature than the rest of the song. There's nothing wrong with the song, but I don't find anything spectacular about it either.
Then comes “Karma Police”, which, presumably after “Creep,” is the band’s most famous song and the one that brought most people back to the group. At least after “Paranoid Android,” it’s the best on the album. The song is devilishly catchy, complex, but much more accessible than the android track, and it became the album’s spearhead with Jonny’s piano accompaniment, Phil’s simple yet effective drumming, and Thom’s impressive vocal performance. They took the title from a very simple joke, not only based on Lennon’s “Instant Karma,” but also on the almost universal joke of saying that when you do something wrong, you’ll pay with karma. The first part, dominated by the piano, has a chord progression very similar to The Beatles' "Sexy Sadie" (and perhaps some of the lyrics are also influenced by it), from the beginning and especially in the bridge where Yorke sings "This is what you get..." The band has also mentioned a certain influence from Sara McLachlan's "Aida." It doesn't really matter if it's more accessible or if they borrowed elements from a lesser-known Beatles song; it's a massive song with enough individual artistry to be considered a gem. They debuted the track during their 1996 American mini-tour, opening for Alanis Morissette. This song doesn't have a conventional chorus, but rather those aforementioned bridges where Yorke sings alone with the piano. It's also composed of two very distinct pieces. The first begins with a piano intro and the lines "Karma Police, arrest this man, He talks in maths, He buzzes like a fridge, He's like a detuned radio…", which feature chord progressions similar to "Sexy Sadie". This section also includes the beautiful bridges where the tempo changes and the instrumentation pauses so Yorke can sing "This is what you get when you mess with us." I long thought he was saying "mess with love," but it seems to be another dedication to the girl who inspired "Paranoid Android." In this section, there's an analog synthesizer that sounds like a very subtle backing vocal. At 2:30, the second part begins: "For a minute there I lost myself," with the vocals laden with echo and a very melodic, almost answering, backing vocal. Ed O'Brien plays a slide guitar while everything takes on increasingly ethereal hues, leaving us with the distortion from Ed's pedal. An absolute anthem, about which nothing more can be said except that it is magnificent.
The seventh track is “Fitter Happier”, and I emphasize “track” because it’s not really a song. It’s more like a list-poem recited through a voice synthesizer to eliminate any emotion. The only music is a keyboard playing seemingly random notes, with a voice in the background and some electronic effects. This track has always struck me as very sinister, yet impossible not to associate with “Karma Police.” When you pay attention to the lyrics, it’s a morbid attack on routine and life. Yorke has said he wrote it as a list of advertising messages from the 1990s, and that he considers it “the most unsettling thing I’ve ever written.” It was originally going to open the album, but in the end, it was decided to put it in the middle. Again, it’s not a song per se, but as a track, it fulfills its unsettling function of unnerving, so it can’t be considered filler or highlighted.
“Electioneering” is the most rock-oriented song on the album, but it could also be the worst. The riff is powerful, but very repetitive throughout the track. The drums sound relentless, and I think I even hear a cowbell. Musically, it's nothing spectacular, though not bad either. The best part is the lyrics, which attack politicians and their inability to adhere to their principles, if they ever had any. The line “I trust I can rely on your vote” shows that by this point, Radiohead was becoming increasingly political, and they say they were inspired by the writings of Noam Chomsky. Decent, furious, but not up to the standard of the rest of the album.
With “Climbing Up The Walls”, they return to their high level, creating another chilling and detailed atmosphere. Truly, this is one of the most terrifying songs I've ever heard, with its ambient insect-like noises, the slow, almost funereal, metallic drums, and the solemn, solitary, and slightly distorted vocals. The lyrics are also terrifying (in a good way), alluding to who knows what, and therein lies the horror—it's unclear whether it's a mentally ill person, the monster in the closet, or a serial killer. The song gradually becomes darker, with denser effects; it's like stepping into an ever-thinning fog, and it always reminds me of parts of the film Silent Hill. Jonny Greenwood wrote a very complex string section, recorded with 16 instruments, which adds even more intensity. The guitar solo at 3:10 is very simple, yet effective, as it evokes the air raid sirens or fire alarms that some cities used to have. In the end, Thom ends up screaming and moaning in a way that sends shivers down your spine. Impressive.
Then comes the enchanting “No Surprises”, which completely shifts the mood of the previous song, offering a calm after the storm. It's a beautiful ballad, almost a lullaby thanks to the xylophone, which lends a tender and playful touch, echoed by O'Brien's guitar, and quite a departure from the band's usual style. The acoustic guitar also softens the sounds, and vocal harmonies are delicately woven together from the second half onward, reminiscent in melody and harmony of elements from the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds. The music is relaxing, not simple, though it's crafted to seem so, and you end up wanting to play it for your baby to help them drift off to sleep… until you pay attention to the lyrics, which are quite contrasting. The song's lyrics are utterly hopeless and cynical, often interpreted as a suicidal cry: “A heart that's full up like a landfill, A job that slowly kills you, Bruises that won't heal.” A beautiful song, with the band delivering a scathing critique of apathetic society, and incidentally, one of the best-harmonized songs of their career. Another one of my all-time favorites.
We enter the final stretch with the penultimate track, “Lucky”, which they had written back in '95 but was left out of the recording process for this album, as it was originally intended for War Child's The Help Album. Although it wasn't recorded for OK, I think it fits the album's atmosphere better than “Electioneering,” and it's one of the album's highlights. The song begins with Ed creating a strange effect on his guitar, pressing the strings close to his body and using the tremolo to create a vibrato with the feedback, giving it that cricket-like sound. Thom then enters with a moving vocal. The song really kicks in at 1:10, without sounding harsh, but making a huge impression with the vocal melody and the majestic guitar arrangements. After the chorus, another synthesizer comes in, adding choral effects, and the song slowly builds and builds, giving the impression of a soul rising and seeing its own body, which is exactly what the band intended. The chorus is majestic, "Pull me out of the air crash, pull me out of the lake, 'cause I'm your superhero, we are standing on the edge..." and after the second chorus there's a false ending, but the guitars play an instrumental bridge to return with that mid-slow, hypnotic rhythm, until it ends in delicious chaos. Lyrically, it revisits the idea of accidents, this time an air crash, although it's more ambiguous.
The album closes with “The Tourist”, which I think is a brilliant way to end. The band takes their time, not trying to force anything, enjoying themselves by creating atmospheres, reflecting the intention in the lyrics “Hey man, slow down.” It’s a beautiful, unhurried song, the kind you listen to and can’t help but feel calm and relaxed after the delightful but bumpy rollercoaster ride of the rest of the album. Jonny’s guitar arpeggios are very well done and guide the entire track. In fact, the song is practically his and for him, since he needed to slow down, as if telling himself, “Idiot, slow down.” Very well constructed, and even though it seems like nothing is happening, suddenly, without warning, the intensity has increased, and there’s a spectacular solo at 3:50. The drums deliver impressive arrangements, and the backing vocals and keyboards once again create colossal atmospheres in the background. The ending is incredibly rich, abruptly slowing the tempo to just a plucked bass line and Phil's cymbals before fading away with the bling of a triangle. It always takes a moment to realize the album is over.
The album is enormous, no doubt about it. For many, this is the best album of the last 15 years. For those more familiar with the band, there will still be debate about whether it's better than Kid A or The Bends, but that doesn't really matter; its quality is beyond question. It's a practically perfect album, with almost all of its songs being very good, except for a couple that, while not amazing, still hold up. It set the musical standards for the new millennium, served as a boundary between generations of musicians (from then on, U2 would sound like old guys playing with electronics), and founded a school of thought, from imitator bands like Coldplay, Keane, Muse, etc., to vocal, guitar, and drum techniques (I don't know if Colin also had students playing bass, but it wouldn't surprise me). OK Computer is a fundamental album because, in short, we can say that it's the album where the future caught up with music, or vice versa.
However, delving a little deeper, it also had a negative impact, like almost all legendary albums. Shortly after Sgt. Pepper's, Brian Epstein died, marking the beginning of the end for the Beatles. The Dark Side of the Moon was so acclaimed that it brought progressive rock out of the underground scene, but after a couple of years, people grew tired of the virtuosity, the endless solos, and the sharp lyrics, turning instead to the simplicity of punk and the frivolous, simplistic, and empty nature of the disco movement. Led Zeppelin IV would have a similar effect within the hard rock scene. OK Computer represented a peak. A very high one, an unattainable one. Suddenly, the dominant genres of the first half of the 90s, which had significantly influenced the album's sound and were already showing signs of exhaustion, ceased to be relevant. Britpop and grunge were based on more basic sounds, without electronic influences. Suddenly, all the bands were incorporating loops and computerized sounds, and both Britpop and Grunge deteriorated to such an extent that their era ended. Some bands still released material, but definitely without the same quality, putting out whatever was available. Electronic influence became fashionable, DJs moved out of clubs and raves, and the turn of the millennium was marked by a kind of void in rock, with the big bands in clear decline.
In any case, Radiohead can't be entirely blamed for this. The album is enormous, a brilliant and colossal demonstration of their lyrical and musical prowess, their emotional inspiration, their creation of textures… and it's one of those works that, regardless of musical tastes, everyone needs to hear. It's not an easy listen—no Radiohead album is—but if you haven't heard it for some strange twist of fate… what are you waiting for? It's your golden opportunity to discover that there's something beyond Lady Gaga and Britney Spears, something called real music!
This also serves to announce that this is the 100th album review from La Caverna.
By Corvan
Jul/2/2010
