TEN YEARS GONE

killbosbycomedy:

Siri knows: Sam Jackson is a deeply troubled man. 

In November of 2001, Radiohead followed a pair of revolutionary studio albums with the release of their first (and last) live album. I Might Be Wrong: Live Recordings consists of 7 songs from the band’s Kid A and Amnesiac, plus one previously unreleased track, all recorded live during a 2001 world tour. For those unfamiliar with the band’s history, here’s a criminally inept attempt at catching you up: Radiohead first achieved commercial success in 1992 with their hit single “Creep,” which made it cool to hate yourself a full decade before emo kids went and ruined that shit for everyone. 7 years, 3 platinum albums, and 1 Grammy award later, Thom Yorke’s brain exploded. Suffering from severe depression and questioning everything he knew about everything, Yorke considered breaking up the band, but decided instead to reinvent Radiohead from the ground up. The result was a new direction that led some fans to run crying into the waiting arms of Weezer’s Green Album, while others tattooed sinister-looking cartoon bears on their necks and vowed to name their first born “Kid A” (God, I hope that’s not true). A lot of bands in this position might have tried to reconcile with alienated fans by releasing a live album of past favorites from their catalog, reminding them why they fell in love with the band in the first place. Instead, Radiohead offered a compilation of live recordings pulled exclusively from the very albums responsible for fragmenting their fan base. Ten years later, I dive back into the year that Radiohead gave themselves an extreme makeover.

THE MUSIC

I Might Be Wrong begins with a sea of white noise, which echoes into oblivion as Colin Greenwood rips into the opening riff of “The National Anthem.” Ed O’Brien’s guitar feedback, Jonny Greenwood’s Ondes Martenot (yes, that’s a thing), and Thom Yorke’s bratty vocals create an otherworldly sound that makes you feel like you’re traveling through the Milky Way. In spite of its eerie sci-fi aesthetic, this song has an energy and aggressiveness that is distinctly rock’n’roll. If we ever go to war with alien invaders, this would be a fitting soundtrack.

Next up is the title track “I Might Be Wrong,” which features a guitar riff from Jonny Greenwood that attempts to split the difference between techno and delta blues. One of the most interesting things about this period in Radiohead songwriting is Greenwood’s restraint in crafting guitar hooks. His pre-Kid A work bristles with complicated riffs that earned him a reputation as a rock guitar wiz kid (see “My Iron Lung” or ”Paranoid Android”). Here he distills all of that trademark grandiosity into a simple 8-note pattern that still manages to convey a world of emotion and raw power. Stylistically, he’s traded Picasso for Mondrian. The skill and attention to detail is there, but he’s deconstructed the shapes into a form so deceptively simple, you might mistake the meticulous refinement for laziness. 

“Morning Bell” is pretty, jazzy, and mellow. It’s a welcome change of pace from the first two tracks, and benefits immensely from Phil Selway’s human drumming, which is warmer and more sophisticated than the drum machine used on Kid A. The guitar build up before the bridge makes it clear, if only for a second, that this is in fact the same Radiohead that gave us The Bends.

“Like Spinning Plates” is my favorite moment of this album. All the weird backwards tracking and electronic blips that make the studio version sound like one of David Lynch’s wet dreams are mercifully missing. What’s left is a raw, honest piano ballad that lets the songwriting speak for itself. The music is haunting and cinematic, as is the rich imagery in Yorke’s lyrics.

“Idioteque” is as much of an event on I Might Be Wrong as it is on Kid A. This performance is pretty faithful to the original, but there is an added desperation in Yorke’s delivery that makes it that much more inspiring. This has always been my favorite song from this era of Radiohead, not only because of its incredible energy and captivating musical textures, but because it’s a testament to their astonishing ability to adapt and evolve. The band challenges themselves to use a song structure, lyrical style, and instrumentation well outside their comfort zone, and still manage to deliver a composition as poignant and compelling as any of their previous work. It’s like handing Hendrix a didgeridoo, and then watching him revolutionize didgeridoo playing forever.

If “Idioteque” is Radiohead’s club banger, then ”Everything in its Right Place” is their slow jam. Between its brooding bassline, 10/4 time signature, and impressive display of electronic gymnastics, you hardly even notice that this version clocks in at nearly twice the length of its studio counterpart. Jonny Greenwood proves he doesn’t need a Telecaster to rock your socks off as he uses a Korg Kaoss Pad to manipulate Yorke’s vocals into all manner of reverberating weirdness. For those who assumed Kid A and Amnesiac were a bunch of Nigel Godrich studio witchery that could never translate to the stage, this track should dispel any lingering doubts.

“Dollars and Cents” is a solid tune with a great groove from Phil Selway and Colin Greenwood, but in the context of this album, it feels like a bit of a weak link. Those familiar with the Amnesiac version will find no surprises in this performance, and after the epic electro-jam of “Everything in its Right Place,” the timing couldn’t be worse. It’s at this point that I start longing for some crowd-pleasers from The Bends or OK Computer. Instead, we get more hypnotic gloominess that was probably very engaging in concert, but fails to connect here.

I Might Be Wrong closes with the sweet, acoustic ballad “True Love Waits.” In addition to being the only song that doesn’t appear on any other Radiohead release, “True Love Waits” offers a breath of fresh air from the densely-layered electronic jungle that makes up the rest of the album. Just Thom Yorke, an acoustic guitar, and some lyrics about a seriously unhealthy relationship. Classic Radiohead. Looks like these guys found a way to remind us why we fell in love with them in the first place, after all.

THE VERDICT

I Might Be Wrong: Live Recordings is a fantastic document of a band in the midst of an identity crisis. At a time when everyone seemed to be questioning who they were, Radiohead took control of the conversation by releasing this statement of intent. Yes, we are still a rock band. Yes, we are still incredible live. Yes, we are weirder than your cousin Alistair’s collection of John Wayne Gacy clown paintings. No, we do not care if you like it. Radiohead should be commended for their insistence on being true to themselves, and for making no apologies to fans or critics for their drastic new direction. It’s that sort of unflinching integrity that has given this band the credibility they enjoy today. Unfortunately, in creating an album that captures the band’s artistic vision at a specific moment in time, they failed to create something timeless. Some of the songs on this album sound better than ever before. “Like Spinning Plates” and “True Love Waits” alone make it worth the price of admission. Had they included equally-inspired performances of songs like “Just” or “Karma Police,” I Might Be Wrong could have gone from being a companion piece for die-hard fans, to a classic live album on par with Neil Young’s Live Rust or The Who’s Live at Leeds (or at least Cheap Trick at Budokan). As good as this album is, it’s hard to see it today as anything but a missed opportunity. But then again, I might be wrong.

-B.Nichols, 12/9/11

This month marks the ten year anniversary of the U.S. release of Is This It, the debut album by indie rock quintet The Strokes. At the time of its release, Linkin Park’s Hybrid Theory was the number one album in America, Limp Bizkit had just been awarded an MTV Moonman for “Rollin,” and the U.S. was still hemorrhaging from the massive open wound left by the September 11th terrorist attacks (perhaps it was not our freedom that bin Laden hated, but rather our taste in music videos?). Needless to say, things were a bit bleak. It’s no wonder, then, that an infectiously fun and easily digestible album like Is This It garnered so much attention from fans and critics alike. That attention proved to be a double-edged sword, however, as The Strokes seemed to polarize listeners into either the “saviors of rock’n’roll” camp, or the “over-hyped private school pretty boys” camp. With the cultural climate of 2001 a mere fading memory, I revisit the 36 minutes and 28 seconds of music that once turned five guys’ exotically pan-European last names into household names.

THE MUSIC

The album gets off to a bit of a slow start with the title track “Is This It.” The hypnotic drumbeat and repetitive guitar riffs swirl into a sort of sleepy lullaby, made even more drowsy by Julian Casablancas’ apathetic vocal delivery. Nikolai Fraiture’s fun, bouncy bassline seems to come along just in time to save this song from being a total snooze. While this is arguably the most boring song on Is This It, it does serve as a pretty good litmus test for the rest of the album. The music is simple, the song structure is straight forward, and the lyrics are basic and honest. The tape noise at the top of the song (which I can only assume is the sound of a Sony Walkman being strangled to death) lets you know from the start that you are in for a decidedly lo-fi experience. If you’re listening to this album because the brightly colored particle explosion on its cover led you to believe The Strokes were a prog rock band, you should go ahead and get out now.

“The Modern Age” picks up the pace nicely with a choppy blend of intertwining rhythms that perfectly summarizes The Strokes signature sound. With the exception of Nick Valensi’s AC/DC-inspired guitar solo, all the instruments here chug along in happy unison, weaving a well-crafted canvas for Casablancas to croon over. It sounds as if there could be a hundred moving parts just below the surface, but what grabs the listener is the catchy vocal melody bouncing playfully on top.

“Soma” gives us our first taste of Casablancas’ passionate side, as he tears into a few key lines with a punky snarl that proves he has more to offer than his trademark impersonation of Lou Reed on Valium.

He continues to loosen up on “Barely Legal,” channeling all the swagger and arrogance of a young Mick Jagger to deliver what are presumably tongue-in-cheek lyrics about trying to sleep with a teenage girl.

Solid guitar licks, energetic drumming, a cool bass groove, and dynamic, heartfelt vocals make “Someday” the most rewarding track on this album. Casablancas is at his best as a vocalist, lyricist, and songwriter. The line “I’m working so I won’t have to try so hard” seems to sum up The Strokes whole schtick in a single sentence. Ten years and three albums later, this is still my favorite Strokes song.

“Alone, Together” broods with the dark moodiness that one can only expect from five New Yorkers in leather jackets and skinny jeans. It may not be an amazing song, but it does feature a decent guitar solo, and serves as a nice palette cleanser after the radio-friendly “Someday.”

“Last Nite” is 3 minutes and 17 seconds of pure fluffy pop fun (and I mean that in the nicest way possible). Here The Strokes wear their influences on their sleeve as guitars alternate between reggae-tinged upstrokes and chunky punk rock downstrokes, and Albert Hammond Jr offers up his version of a Chuck Berry guitar solo.

Though most of the album manages to sound pretty timeless, “Hard To Explain” makes it evident that these guys grew up in the 80’s. Fabrizio Moretti bangs out his best impression of a Casio keyboard, as Casablancas barks confused sentence fragments about…well…being confused. Still, the lack of pop culture or current events references ensures that these lyrics will remain relatable for generations of disenfranchised youth to come.

Out of respect for NYPD’s heroic response to the World Trade Center attacks, The Strokes wisely chose to remove the song “New York City Cops” from the US release of the album. Unfortunately, they replaced it with “When It Started,” which is every bit as underwhelming as you would expect a song that was strapped on at the last minute to be. That’s not to suggest that “New York City Cops” is a brilliant piece of songwriting, but it does add some danger to the UK version of Is This It that is desperately missing from its American counterpart. The terrorists have won.

“Trying Your Luck” is cool and slinky, sounding like the beefier cousin of “Alone, Together.” The verses here drag a little, but a dynamic chorus and bluesy guitar solo from Hammond makes this song worth listening to.This is the closest we get to a ballad, so it’s at least refreshing as a change of pace.

The Strokes finish strong with “Take It Or Leave It,” a spirited romp that demonstrates the band’s affinity for 70’s punk. This song is a no frills rocker, and a great way to close out the album. The guys sound way more badass on this track than on any of the previous ten, and it definitely leaves you wanting more after the last cymbal crash.

THE VERDICT

Is This It is a solid rock’n’roll record - nothing more, nothing less. It may not seem as relevant in today’s post-Franz Ferdinand world, but The Strokes deserve some amount of credit for reminding us that rock bands are allowed to have danceable melodies and spell their names correctly (see: Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, Staind, Korn, Puddle of Mudd, etc). Yes the music is simple, but it’s simple by choice. If you’re not impressed, it’s because they’re not trying to impress you. They’re just trying to have a good time playing music they care about. And maybe sleep with your daughter. Ultimately, The Strokes are like Robert Pattinson’s hair. It may LOOK like he just rolled out of bed, but try it yourself and you’ll find that he worked really hard to make his hair look like a rat’s nest. Meanwile, all the girls swoon and all the guys stew with jealousy. And while it’s true that any handful of musicians with a basic knowledge of rock’n’roll could play like The Strokes, it takes keen instincts and immense clarity of vision to create an album that is both as simple and as satisfying as Is This It.

-B.Nichols, 10/17/11