Yes, yes I know. "Album of the Week" has been on extended hiatus, but because of that, I'm sure the Internet's collective appetite is wholly whetted for this, the first installment of 2011. Think of it as the McRib of this blog - it doesn't show up that often, but when it does. . .
A good friend of mine has told me, from time to time, that Thom Yorke is a genius. I would characterize my reaction that statement as, well, "cool." And by "cool," I of course mean ignorant. Fortunately, thanks to a post-finals music sharing rampage, I came into quite the little trove of Radiohead, and am now happy to report that my reaction to the "Thom Yorke is a genius" claim has been upgraded to guarded agreement.
Thus, today's Album of the Week is OK Computer by Radiohead, first released in 1997. This is obviously consistent with my policy of being at least 2-3 years back of any pop culture trend.
As a disclaimer, I've always been a bit hesitant towards anthemic, stadium style rock. You know, U2 and the like. I often find myself questioning what the real purpose of the music is - is to sell out a ton of concerts, thereby earning bazillions, or is it genuine musical expression? The answer, most likely, is somewhere in the middle, but that doesn't stop me from pondering. I can safely say though, that I will henceforth make an exception. For Radiohead.
Folks, I love this album, and I can't quite put my finger on why. Honestly, I don't know what the hell he's singing half the time. I must say though, Mr. Yorke has one of the more distinctive voices you'll ever come across. I've been trying hard to come up with a sufficient adjective to describe it, but my vocabulary is eluding me. It's quite liquid, but yet retains a certain sharpness to it, which really illuminates some pretty incredible emotion.
To illustrate this, I'd highly recommend three tracks - "Karma Police," "Lucky," and "The Tourist." It is truth - I listened to "Lucky" probably 12 times in a row one night last week. I find it to be an absolutely intoxicating song, and have actually forced more than a few unwitting occupants of my car to listen to it too.
Perhaps that's the intangible that is drawing me to this album. Maybe it's the epic nature of the songwriting, maybe it's the aforementioned voice, I have no idea. But near every track on this album finds its way not only into your aural cavity, but your brain and heart as well. This is what leads me to conclude that the stadium-esque nature of this songwriting isn't a ploy to make gazillions on ticket sales, but a means through which to achieve transcendence. I could just as easily ponder life's mysteries to this album than scream with 100,000 other fans.
I think the pacing of the tracks, and the album as a whole, are quite incredible. I've always been a sucker for melodramatic art-rock (see Sigur Rós), and I'm sure Radiohead is going to quickly find its way onto that list. I love the laziness through which the music expands and contracts. It's a broad canvas of an album, and the musicians take the care of a master painter while filing up that space. To use the term from a later recording, you really get the sense that everything is in its right place, that the music is as it it was, is, and should be. Extraordinarily deliberate.
Deliberate - deliberate is a good place to be. This blog has well established my propensity for thinking, and this, I feel, is thinking music. It's music whose purpose is not immediately apparent. I can appreciate that, because the best things in life involve self-reflection.
So there you go.
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