I've written about Radiohead before: sort of recently about the digital download of In Rainbows; and much less recently (and much more succinctly) about their 2001 release, Amnesiac. Seven years ago I described them in five words: I still don't get it. At the time I was struggling with their first forays away from typical rock song structure, and an oft-overwhelming sense of doom and claustrophobia in their music and lyrics, when I could penetrate them at all. And, chiefly, not understanding how Kid A debuted at #1 on Billboard's charts the previous year. A colleague described Kid A at the time: the most nonlinear album ever to debut at number one. I had already basically dismissed, the OK Computer and Kid A, but I kept returning to them with each release. With Amnesiac, I finally really liked what I heard on a Radiohead album, though couldn't connect that album or any of the others with their superstardom stature. Radiohead don't play to the least common pop denominator of "American Idol."
In the years since my perplexed dismissal of their worldwide acclaim, I'm not sure I'm any closer to solving the riddle, or riddles. Their astounding success doesn't sum from the density, diversity and aural challenge of their output. Successive releases since Amnesiac (Hail to the Thief and In Rainbows) are something of a mash-up of the earlier guitar-driven albums and the experimental explorations of Kid A/Amnesiac. The music is at best modestly more accessible for a casual listener. Singer Thom Yorke's vocals, when not delivered at a near-mumble, are often buried in the mix. Sonic boundaries are pushed, most prominently by both Yorke and lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood, who also plays several other instruments, like rock band staples the glockenspiel, viola, and ondes Martenot. But hey, at least the song titles are uplifting: "We Suck Young Blood," "Bodysnatchers," "A Punch Up at a Wedding."
Coldplay it ain't. Nor does Radiohead traffic in the anthem sing-alongs of U2, the shy-boy relationship rock of Death Cab for Cutie, whatever is passing for "emo" these days, nor the acoustic styles of Jack Johnson. But the surfer-acoustic dude is the only other performer headlining as many summer festivals this year as Radiohead.
In between festival dates, the band rolled through Auburn, Washington, a suburban outpost about 35 miles from Seattle where I took in the Radiohead spectacle (and some pictures) with about 18,000 others who braved horrible weather and worse transit planning to get to the venue. And spectacle it was, with an intricate light show (environmentally friendlier LED, of course), roadies scurrying everywhere with instruments and gear, and video screens behind the stage projecting the band members from multiple angles, not all glamorous. We were treated to Yorke's schnozz and lazy eye up close and personal during "You and Whose Army."
Fortunately, the effects took a back seat to the music. When they wanted to, Radiohead provided a serious groove. Yorke was shadowbox dancing right from the opening number ("15 Step," the first track from In Rainbows) and a sizable chunk of the band's set was full of rollicking drums, prominent bass and ass-shaking rhythm. Notably, "There There" had guitarist Ed O'Brien and Greenwood bashing on snare kits. And there were plenty of songs at non hip-swiveling BPM that could have been concert momentum killers. The audience was rapt and chatter-free in my general vicinity. Outside of the lyrics themselves, there was no speechifying save for a brief mention of the WTO protest in Seattle a decade ago. Surprising, especially for a band both with its available bully pulpit and general against-the-grain stance. The politics were left to the merch table where Sigg water bottles and T-shirts made from recycled material were for sale.
I don't know that Radiohead will ever be an all-time favorite of mine, or even favorite in a moment of time. Sometimes I just need the simplicity of three chords and the truth. But I keep finding myself drawn in to the music with an interest in exploring and deciphering, though readily admit to being nonplussed at its road blocks as well. Radiohead's popularity remains a riddle for me. The mirror's still cracked. But it's seven years on and time to worry less about the mathematics of success and spend more time with the tunes.
