Radiohead’s “OK Computer†is officially over a decade old. Released June 16 in the UK (ten years ago this past Saturday) and July 1 in the States (coming up in about two weeks now), it blew the doors off preconceived notions of popular music, was nominated for a Grammy as 1997’s Album of the Year, and provided concrete evidence that Radiohead was a band of constant progress, evidence that would only be furthered by 2000’s wildly experimental “Kid A.†But “OK Computer†remains the defining moment in the history of a band that constantly redefines the parameters of music, a band that has never released a bad album, a band nearly as mysterious as they are mindblowing. Easily as revolutionary as bands like Genesis or Pink Floyd, as intriguing and otherworldly as Bjork or Sigur Ros, and as quintessentially British as Oasis, I think it’s OK to list Radiohead’s “OK Computer†as the most important rock album of the last ten years.
Exploding onto the pop charts with the paranoid, neurotic single “Creep†from 1993’s “Pablo Honey,†the band showed promise but nothing that hinted at where they could go. The album was enjoyable, but the band was easily dismissible as a one-hit wonder. But by 1995, with the release of “The Bends,†Radiohead proved they were cut from a completely different cloth.
The loud guitars and propulsive rhythms of “Pablo Honey†weren’t gone, but they were simply performed with more finesse, more care, more sonic layers and textures than anyone else at the time. “High & Dry,†“Fake Plastic Trees†and “Just†were the singles, but songs like “Sulk†and “(Nice Dream)†are haunting, dynamic arrangements as well, and the album prompted R.E.M. frontman Michael Stipe’s infamous quote: “Radiohead are so good they scare me.†Everyone was sure Radiohead had just produced their magnum opus — until they completely outdid themselves two years later.
Opening with the driving one-two punch of “Airbag†and “Paranoid Android†(arguably the most strangely constructed rock song to ever be a hit single), the real star of “OK Computer†is guitarist Johnny Greenwood. His epochal tones and frantic, frenzied style of playing clash horribly with singer Thom Yorke’s smooth falsetto and more laid-back tendencies as a songwriter, and that is where the magic lies on this album. Yorke made Greenwood ease up a bit, while Greenwood made Yorke spaz out more. “Kicking, squealing, Gucci little piggy†Yorke spits from between clenched teeth, contempt for his peers dripping from the speakers and melting holes in Chevron rugs.
Songs like “Subterranean Homesick Alien†and “No Surprises†show the band spending more time building arrangements, pushing songs to the brink of climax and only occasionally delivering on the promise. “Let Down†and “Karma Police†are utterly flawless pop songs, while “Fitter Happier†is anything but a pop song — computers have never been as terrifying as they are when reading the song’s post-apocalyptic beatnik poetry. “Electioneering†is faster and more aggressively organic than anything in the band’s catalog, and its placement immediately following “Fitter Happier†only makes the latter somehow more terrifying. From beginning (“In a fast German car/ I’m amazed that I survivedâ€) to end (“Hey man, slow down, slow down/ Idiot, slow down, slow downâ€) everything between the car crash and the life advice is exactly that. This album is the threat of death, the suggestion of life, the sterility of computers, the organic essence of screaming over loud guitars, the echoes of stone cathedrals and the clang of distortion — this album is everything.
