With occasional reflection on the perpetual absurdity/intrigue of life and society in general.

Monday, October 17, 2022

The Optical Files #145: Radiohead - OK Computer (1997)


When I think about Radiohead in the context of this project, I feel the need to distinguish the reasons I loved them as a teenager from what I thought being a Radiohead fan said about me. I wanted to be perceived as a sophisticated music fan, with discerning tastes that couldn't be satisfied by just any band. I remember in particular turning up my nose at Coldplay, whom I accused of dumbing down Radiohead's sound & streamlining it for a pop audience. Today, I think the truth is a lot simpler. Sure, I had a slightly better musical vocabulary than the average 15 year-old, but at the end of the day--just like a Coldplay fan or a Hoobastank fan or any other fan I disdained--I liked Radiohead because I liked the songs. As "art rock" bands go, Radiohead is one of the most instantly accessible to the casual listener. OK Computer is generally regarded as their masterpiece, but in all the ink that gets spilled about it, sometimes the obvious gets overlooked. It feels silly to even need to point this out, but I will: if people didn't like the songs, they wouldn't listen.

So let's talk about the songs. They are dark. Radiohead was never exactly a happy-go-lucky band, but OK Computer reaches a new level of discontent. Even songs with superficially cheerful or tranquil vibes like "Let Down" or "No Surprises" are deeply cynical lyrically, a corruption that peeks through the cracks in the uplifting arrangements. Thom Yorke's narrators are terrified of middle-class soul-death, othered alienation, general human egotism & technology superseding humanity. If you think too hard about it, you remember that artists have been sounding the alarm about modern technology gutting human communalism for hundreds of years & the particular concerns on this album lose a bit of teeth, but damned if Thom & the boys don't sound convincing.

The production is another major factor that contributes to OK Computer's overall mood. This is neither the frigid murk of Kid A nor the garage grit of The Bends. Instead, it feels like a cramped server room in the charge of an overworked technician, humming & buzzing with unruly electrical energy, warm despite never being touched by sunlight. On several songs producer Nigel Godrich cranks up the saturation on a particular instrument, & some of the most memorable sounds come from these: the overcompressed drums on "Airbag," vocals on "Climbing Up the Walls" or especially the bass on "Exit Music (For a Film)." Nigel did something to Colin's bass on that song (similar to the later "Myxomatosis") to make it sound downright apocalyptic, especially with the choral accompaniment. On the whole, the sound of OK Computer is too big for the CD, it spills from its containment & warps its surroundings like the narrator of "The Tourist": "Sometimes I get overcharged/That's when you see sparks."

I acknowledge this album's greatness but I no longer worship at its feet. In fact, the last time I revisited my Radiohead CDs I found them borderline unlistenable thanks to Thom's voice. For some reason, I never noticed back then how sharp he sings. It's especially grating on the aforementioned "The Tourist" (not to mention the live album, but we'll get to that soon). I totally get that the offkey warbling is a stylistic choice, & it usually works, but it was still jarring to hear after I was no longer used to it.

I went from wanting everybody to know I listened to Radiohead to being kind of shy about it. I guess I don't want to be thought of as one of those Radiohead fans (i.e. the kind I used to be). I suppose both approaches are equally self-conscious. I'm working on just being able to like what I like without having to work through multiple layers of how those things make me perceived by other people. I guess I'm just trying to stay one step ahead of the karma police.

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