Tuesday, July 10, 2007

It's All OK: 10 Years After the Release of Radiohead's OK Computer

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July 1st marked 10 long years since Radiohead released it's universally and personally-acclimed record OK Computer. Today I'm taking a look into why this album has been a friend, an emeny, an inspiration and a life-saver.



Part1: We're All Going to be OK

The Beatles’ “Yesterday” is not merely a universal favorite because of its tender melody and sing-a-long lyrics. It both adequately and simply sums up humanity’s constant longing for good, or better, times. We are trapped by this nagging notion of time, constantly looking back-or occasionally forward- to the times that we identify as happy. How often have we been in the middle of one of these moments, only to notice that the first thought that comes to mind is, “I hope this lasts forever”, and thereby admitting that time has destroyed the moment?

I bring up this point not to depress, but to ponder: what is it about sad songs that make us happy? When you’re freshly in love, all love songs whether from Kelly Clarkson or The Temptations, explain the way you feel as if the artist were writing your story. When you break up, inevitably, you suddenly notice songs about heartbreak that, again, run eerily along the lines of your life.

Radiohead has done an incredible job of walking the line between admitting and expressing a near-defeated, nihilistic view of the cold, “professionalism” of the 1990’s, while still letting in enough light and understanding to bandage the wound that has just been opened.

A perfect example of this dichotomy is portrayed in “No Surprises”. The title alone suggest a closed-case attitude toward, well, everything. It’s always the cynic in us that utters, “that’s no surprise”. But when the music starts, we enter a soft xylophone-driven landscape, safe enough for even the most anxious, worried and scared child in all of us.
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Just as we’re getting comfortable, Thom’s voice prances on top of the melody to remind us of what we’re really made of:

“A heart that’s full-up like a landfill. A job that slowly kills you. Bruises that won’t heal.”

And with this bruised heart in hand we supplicate, defeated, and desire only:

“A quiet a life. A Handshake. Some carbon monoxide. No Alarms and No Surprises.

Silence.”

How many times have we sat at our desks/coffee/bars/prison cells and uttered “this job is slowly killing me” and then inevitably, “but you have to work, I mean, you have to. You need money. Can’t sleep on the streets. Can’t live at home with mom forever. Gotta grow up. This job is secure! This job will lead to other things. I kinda like that one guy around the corner. Traffic isn’t that bad…”

These feelings come from a complete disconnect of our job directly impacting anything tangible. There are a lucky few that actually know where their time and efforts are going toward, other than a pay check.

Before the industrial revolution-and I promise I’m going somewhere with this-most avenues of making a living were direct and easy to comprehend. You woke up in the morning, you milked the cows which was then packaged and sent to the families around you because they needed milk. And you gave them milk. And they gave you a shirt on your back that protected you from the sun when you were outside milking the cows.

Now this notion of simplicity vs. complex modern society has been hashed over in music, literature and, most likely, your upper-level college courses until it has become passé and vacuous-a problem without a solution.

But I bring Radiohead into this discussion because I believe they were some of the only artists to truly capture, through music and lyrics, the spirit and sadness of this disconnection with nature, work and even other humans. Sure, we have to work in a workplace in order to make money in order to buy our milk. But this modern idea of polished professionalism and policy has truly degraded our ability to connect with, well, anything.

Except that, at the end of the day, there is one place we can still escape: music. Why does listening to songs about a desolate future and placid present make that present seem just a little better? Why does singing songs about yesterday make today a bit easier to get through?

Maybe the only thing we, as humans, have left to connect with is our shared sense or sorrow and desire for a world we can’t even begin to imagine or define. As Paranoid Androids we cry

“Rain down, rain down. Come on rain down on me. From a great height.”

A computer can never be OK. A computer can’t be sad or happy or grateful or lonely. It just is. As we are.




Part 2: In Desperate Attempt to Express Gratitude

In the 8 years that I’ve been religiously listening to Radiohead, and I say 8 because those were the times that I’ve concentrated most of my efforts, I’ve considered these tributary signs of love for the band:

1. tattoo of parts of the OK Computer album artwork.

2. a dissertation on how the album brought about both the resurgence of atmospheric, emotional, well-executed rock (i.e. “saved rock-n-roll) and, sadly, the less-impressive and more derivative modern and overly commercialized indie/emo landscape.

3. Writing Thom York (or Jonnie Greenwood, depending on the day) a letter in which I profess that simply listening to their music is not enough for me. I wish him a swift and painless divorce coupled with an equally lithe and well-executed exodus of me, my dog and my best friend over to England or wherever he chooses to be. I’ll inspire his next 10 albums with my youthful vitality and muse-like genius. (actually, this has been my dream with all the musicians I’ve dated.)

4. Killing myself during the last 10 seconds of “Lucky”. “We are standing on the edge?” How dramatic of me, and what a way to go.





Part 3: Ways That Others Have Reacted


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Recently Stereogum. com quickly put together the first tribute to OK Computer that, in my opinion, does the least bit of justice to the record.

Standout interpretations on OK X: A Tribute to OK Computer include:
-Sweedish band Slaraffenland's take on "Paranoid Android"
-The Twilight Sad's really, really sad "Climbing Up the Walls"
-Personal Favorite My Brightest Diamond's "Lucky"

Check out the entire *FREE* album here.
Read Pitchfork's take here.


About a year ago, a select group of musicians, producers, and critics got together for OK Computer: A Classic Album Under Review. If you really want to go deep with chord structure, Beatles comparisons, albums release history and brilliant anecdotal passages that cover every minute detail of the album, its artwork and its place in history-then this DVD is for me, err, you.

Don't miss out on:
- "7 Television Commercials"-7 Select music videos that are varied, intense and original
-"Meeting People is Easy"- a documentary on the band that shows a deeper side of their personalities, inspirations and frusterations with the modern music industry
-"Radiohead: Back to Save the Universe. The Stories Behind Every Song"-not terribly in depth but a good beginner's book on the history of most of the songs.
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