If you missed it, read Part One of Rich's Kid A reflections HERE
Over the course of fairly extensive readings of Kid A literature (forgive the employ of that grandiose term) I came upon a wonderful description of the brutal orchestral finale to 'How to Disappear Completely'. It was said that Johnny Greenwood’s arrangement was the closest pop music had come to aurally relating the physical experience of crying. I can’t now remember where I read this, much less who actually wrote it, but I do think it gets very close to a perfect description of that heaving tumult of strings.
As it goes ‘Disappear showcases Radiohead at a personal zenith of moroseness. Yorke sings from deep within a cavernous orchestra pit, where a wretched string section drone out of tune; guitars are strummed dustily; the bass line stuck on a slightly off-beat loop. The first chorus lyric is devastating “I’m not here, this isn’t happening” sung low without passion, sorrow or any other emotional affectation. The atmosphere becomes almost unbearably tense come the bridge. The first signs of Yorke’s detachment breaking are in the lines “strobe lights and blown speakers” sung against strings harsh and loud. By the time the third chorus arrives that lyric sounds more like a plea; he wishes it were true. “I’m not here, this isn’t happening,” his voice breaking over pure despair. Finally the battle between Yorke and the terrible dissonance of the string section is given up and they coalesce into the aforementioned breakdown, majestically at first, then, seemingly grief stricken, weeping and finishing with one last melodic rush to the close, wonderfully combining beauty and high drama.
To call it a highlight is obviously speaking in trivialities. But, to indulge a little in the trifling, if I were to compile a top ten Radiohead songs ‘Disappear would certainly be top five, along with 'Idioteque'. 'The National Anthem' would sneak in the top ten also, as-well-as 'EIIRP'. This goes to the significance of Kid A in relation to their other albums; it must be regarded as a strong contender for best.
While 'Treefingers' could never be described as essential material it is important in the context of Kid A for two main reasons. First, and somewhat obviously, it allows the listener reprieve between the trauma of 'How to Disappear Completely' and the heady rock of 'Optimistic'. Second, while at the time of initial reviews much was made of the band’s apparent rejection of guitars and guitar music it transpires that the whole track was in fact produced on guitars, slowed to a pondering tempo. A jolly punch in the side of those critics narrowly complaining of avant garde pretentions.
Some now claim the album is dead. While I suppose it is right that the multiplatformality of music has redefined the way some people listen to it, what it hasn’t yet done is (in a general sense) change the artists’ approach to recording. There aren’t very many record companies that organise tours and promotional events at the behest of a download; so the remnants of the old machinery maintain a hold, and learned attitudes to recording will probably adhere for the next few years, possibly even decades. I would go as far as to suggest that as long as people write songs they will want to agglomerate their songs in collections, and not record and release them sporadically.
Radiohead (excepting Yorke’s dissipated scattering of his recent output in single releases) remain an act who are slaves to the notion of the art of album. Sequencing, coherent themes and arrangement are still paramount to the band; indeed the painstaking nature of the way in which their most recent work (In Rainbows) was put together was revealed when Yorke talked about wanting to include songs such as 'Down is the New Up' but eventually giving up as it “just didn’t fit”. That song, as well as similarly strong efforts such as 'Four Minute Warning', were relegated to b-sides and also saw release as a bonus disk, leaving In Rainbows uncorrupted by outliers.
Kid A is no remnant of a dead, or even outmoded form. It is the work of a highly self-conscious band which were exposed to some of the most intense critical and commercial acclaim which an “alternative” act can reasonably expect. Their superhuman efforts to produce something different, at the very least from all their previous output, succeeded. Bravery to almost completely abandon their artistic stock-in-trade and embrace electronica, but bravery, also, to include an atavistic rock number ('Optimistic') which, it turns out, holds one of the key lyrics from the album. It’s a quote from Yorke’s partner; “If you try the best you can, the best you can is good enough”.
Posted In Features, Oct 12 2010.
Words - Richard Wood