Wall of Sound
Formed in the hallowed halls of Oxford University, where they met as students back in '88, Radiohead would go on to become one of the biggest bands of the roaring '90s and a key player in the world of so-called alternative music. They catapulted to fame with the surprise international smash "Creep," an angst-ridden, feedback-heavy hit culled from their otherwise unremarkable '93 album Pablo Honey. The Bends, their critically acclaimed '95 follow-up, nixed the "one hit wonder" talk and helped secure their place in the pantheon with alt-rock gods like Nirvana and Soundgarden.
But it's their '97 masterpiece, OK Computer, that made Radiohead a household name, raking in millions in record sales, unleashing torrents of critical acclaim and earning the boys a Grammy for "Best Alternative Music Performance." From the subtly mounting tension and explosive fuzz-guitar of "Paranoid Android" to the gorgeous chamber pop of "No Surprises," this sprawling, hypnotically diverse album offers a sweeping tour of everything that's great about modern rock. There's "Subterranean Homesick Alien," with its blend of space age guitar tricks, slashing riffs and "X-Files"-inspired imagery, "Exit Music (For A Film)," with its dark acoustics and gothic shadows and "Let Down," a moody showpiece for singer Thom Yorke's bittersweet falsetto and exquisitely introspective lyrics.
For their eagerly anticipated fourth LP, 2000's Kid A, Radiohead opted for the curve ball, largely abandoning their trademark three-guitar rock in favor of a densely layered, effects-heavy experiment with techno and electro. Though uneven, and subject to some major thrashing by the critics, the record does have its gems. Take "The National Anthem," a spiraling drug-haze of a song, driven by a methodically snaking bass line and insistent trip-hop beat, which culminates in a hallucinatory barrage of trumpets, trombones and squealing saxophones. Then there's "Optimistic," probably the most recognizably "rock" song on the set. Anchored by guitarist Jonny Greenwood's white-hot mix of Velvet Underground-style dissonance and jangling, Pixies-infused post-punk, the track maintains an eerie, engulfing feeling of anxiety and dread. "You can try the best you can," Yorke moans like a schizoid self-help guru. "The best you can is good enough."
Their latest, 2003's Hail to the Thief successfully blends the old with the new, chronicling a sustained Orwellian nightmare (most likely inspired by the election and reign of George W. Bush) with frantic guitar noise, catchy alt-rock hooks and the dizzying blips and whirs of digital voices and looped effects.
As for the future, only time will tell. Despite reports of a new studio album and the live premiere last month of two new tracks at a London benefit for Friends of the Earth, Thom Yorke's forthcoming solo debut has cast a shadow over the band's largely sold-out U.S. tour. Have the end times arrived? Is the age of Radiohead coming to a close? Whatever tomorrow brings, be it paradise, purgatory or inferno, the band has certainly left its mark. Enjoy them live while you can.