significance stretches far beyond that of a mere compact disc
By SAM DERHEIMER
Assistent Scene Editor
Radiohead has always pushed the boundaries of music. More than any other band, it has consistently taken its fans far and beyond the standard framework of the mainstream music industry.
Composed of lead vocalist Thom York, guitarists Jon Greenwood and Ed O'Brien, bassist Colin Greenwood and drummer Phil Selway, Radiohead is one of the most creative and brilliant rock bands ever to come upon the scene.
No one can do what Radiohead does.
With the group's fourth studio record, Kid A, the five childhood friends from England have created something that goes beyond anything that has been heard before. Kid A is nothing short of an artistic masterpiece.
Kid A is by far Radiohead's most experimental album, capitalizing on the complex and distinctive sounds the band has become known for.
There is no reason to Kid A, no explanation. Many of the sounds on the album seem almost foriegn, irregular, York's vocals are twisted and tangled, and yet, in the end, everything comes together.
Though at the surface, the sounds of the songs seem almost to not want anything to do with each other, a step back reveals the true intricate complexity and layered engineering of the album. Kid A was not created to make sense on the surface. That's the way Radiohead operates. Listeners are forced to clear their minds and listen to what is really there.
For the most part, Kid A's sound is slow, mellowed and beautiful. York also provides no liner notes this time around, serving only to intensify the listener's own ultimate decent into the chaotic nature of the album.
Kid A is more than just a studio album. It is a work of art. It is a trance. It is the subconscious of York portrayed through musical notes, vocal chords and artwork.
The album opens with "Everything In Its Right Place." A title that may be the biggest paradox of the entire CD. Nothing seems to be in its right place on this song. Meaning and music alike are jumbled, mixed and lost. Yet, in the end, it finds its perfect harmony. It's as if the band took a deck of cards, threw them into the air and they landed in a perfect card house anyway.
The track begins with York struggling to find his voice, "Kid A... Kid A... Kid A." As he comes into his own, finding the strength and confidence to sing out, he carries the listener with him, away from reality and into a realm of self-contemplatoin and deep-rooted psychosis, "There are two colors in my head..."
Unlike anything Radiohead has ever produced before, unlike anything anyone has ever produced before, Kid A blurs the line between listener and musician. Instead of bringing the music to the listener, it's as if Radiohead is bringing the listener to it.
Kid A was engineered to invoke a trance like quality, as one song flows into the next, leaving the listener feeling as if he was scooped in, lost and floating through the innermost recesses of York's own consciousness.
However, not everything on the album is necessarily so transcendant and supernatural.
"The National Anthem" mixes a more traditional Radiohead style with horns and saxs, giving it a pop/big band feel the band has experimented with little on previous releases. The song is amazing, and a true example of the brilliance of Radiohead and the true musicianship these men possess.
"How To Disappear Completely" is one of the best and most beautiful songs on Kid A. The passion and haunting pain conveyed through York's vocals are incomparable to anything fans have heard before, "In a little while, I'll be gone/ The moment has already passed/ Yeah, it's gone/ And I'm not here/ This isn't happening."
Even York's own past work barely compares to the strength of his vocal talent on songs like "How to Disappear Completely," "Optimistic" and "Idioteque."
Besides its haunting vocals, "Idioteque" is a strong example of the band's willingness to branch out its sound on Kid A. With a somberly beautiful and almost eerie dance-like beat, the song is an immediate standout. Above all the other songs on the album, this is the one die-hard fans will either love or hate. But either way, it can not be ignored.
The record ends with "Motion Picture Soundtrack," a track so divergent from mainstream song writing and yet so extraordinary in its composition, it is the perfect culmination to such an irregular album.
Tangled amid the sounds of soft organs and jubilant harps, York's lyrics cry a story of sadness and loss, "Stop sending letters/ Letters always get burned/ It's not like the movies/ They fed us on little white lies/ I think you're crazy, maybe/ I think you're crazy, maybe/ I will see you in the next life."
The starch clash between lyrics and music gives the song substance beyond mere sheet lyrics or musical notes. The way the song as a whole still achieves an almost immaculate harmony exemplifies the disorder and impeccable perfection that are in constant battle throughout the record.
Kid A is more than just a music album. With a CD booklet composed of nothing but artwork and another booklet of poetry and art hidden within the album case, Radiohead has created something far more expressive and significant than a mere music album. The poetry and artwork complement the purity of York's voice and the band's sound with an intense perfection.
Radiohead songs are composed as much of emotion as they are of sound. With Kid A, the band firmly stakes its claim as one of the most gifted and talented bands in rock history. These are true musicians. These are true artists.
No one can do what Radiohead does. Kid A is merely the product of thier genius.
All Scene Stories for Tuesday, October 10, 2000
