After my last review, I thought I had it all figured out. I liked the idea of record review as character sketch, so I penciled in the next few in that vein. I immediately thought back to Radiohead's OK Computer and my first girlfriend but for the life of me couldn't find a way to connect the two other than the fact that she gave me the CD when we broke up.
After sitting on the idea for months, I was staring off into space (as usual) and it dawned on me: don't focus on the girl; focus on the breakup and life after it.
No, OK Computer did not get me through the breakup. Quite the opposite, in fact.
If you clicked on the link above, you know the background of the breakup. If you didn't, you might want to. Anyway, I liked the singles “Karma Police” and “No Surprises” just fine. The rest of the record was left mostly unlistened to by me. I found Radiohead's further explorations of uncharted rock band waters just as confusing as my life post-girlfriend.
In 1998 – OK Computer had been out for a year already at this point – I was familiar with Radiohead's work, but only barely. “Creep” was a favorite of mine, and I had at least some of the songs on The Bends. So it wasn't any sort of shock that OK Computer was an immensely sad album. But on their previous albums they sounded like a rock band was supposed to sound; OK Computer challenged that and in turn challenged me – right to the skip button.
Listening to the record now, it sounds like it would have made perfect sense to listen to it over and over again considering the state I was in all those years ago. Instead the (mostly) gentle lull of desolation I turned to the anger and rage of bands like Tool, Marilyn Manson, and Nine Inch Nails. (Certain people reading this are probably throwing up the devil horns, then cursing me for turning into pussy.)
The production is at once lush but sterile, freeing but claustrophobic. I'm not sure how Radiohead pulled it off, but they did in spectacular fashion. For instance, the gentle acoustic guitar opening of “Exit Music (For A Film)” eventually gives way to haunting (what I assume) are keyboard sounds, and then more keyboards and synths – or is it a distorted bass? – and finally a brief drum section until Thom Yorke distantly intones “I hope that you choke.” The song sounds like it's ready to explode at one point, but Radiohead keeps it at bay until the end.
Get all that? Neither did I at the time. But “Exit Music” is indicative of the rest of the album in that a whole lot of things are going on at once and you don't know – or at least musical idiot me doesn't – what the hell is going on. But that makes perfect sense, as I didn't know what the hell was going on when I was 17 either.
But, as 17-year-olds are wont to do, I grew out of it. I'll be the first to admit – and I love the phrase, so I'll keep using it – a petulant little shit at the time. I hated myself for not being good enough, and hated her for not seeing my greatness. It also took a little bit of growing up and figuring out things on my own to appreciate Radiohead in general – and OK Computer in particular – for more than just a few songs.
The noisy guitar squall on songs like “Paranoid Android” and “Electioneering” are energizing and serve as a nice counterpoint to the utter desolation present in “No Surprises” and “Let Down.” The record shimmers at times as on opener “Airbag” and “Subterranean Homesick Alien.” Not to be forgotten in all of this is Thom Yorke's voice, which is an acquired taste to be sure. Sometimes he sounds aloof, uninterested (closer “The Tourist”) and other times he lets it rip like at the end of “Climbing Up The Walls.” The album as a whole is a controlled cacophony of different sounds, emotions, and voices.
It may have taken me ten-plus years for all the pieces to come together not just in my appreciation of the genius of OK Computer but in sorting out my life post-breakup. It took that long to realize she, Valarie, was more than just a teenage fuck – okay, we didn't, but that line sounds way better than the reality – but a girl, now woman, with wants and dreams all her own. Much like my fascination with Radiohead, life after seventeen came with a lot of frustration and confusion but in the end turned out to be just fine. I can sit here now almost 30, newly engaged, with wants and dreams all my own knowing that certain things happened in the past – whether girls or records or anything else – happened for a reason. And I can be happy that they turned out this way.
Rating:
5 Packard Bells.
