Name: Anonymous 2013-02-25 12:21
and probably the most over-rated band of the decade, upped the ante for studio trickery.
They had begun as third-rate disciples of the Smiths, and albums such as Pablo Honey (1993) and The Bends (1995) that were cauldrons of Brit-pop cliches. Then OK Computer (1997) happened and the word "chic" took on a new meaning. The album was a masterpiece of faux avantgarde (of pretending to be avantgarde while playing mellow pop music). It was, more properly, a new link in the chain of production artifices that changed the way pop music "sounds": the Beatles' Sgt Pepper, Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon, Fleetwood Mac's Tusk, Michael Jackson's Thriller. Despite the massive doses of magniloquent epos a` la U2 and of facile pathos a` la David Bowie, the album's mannerism led to the same excesses that detracted from late Pink Floyd's albums (lush textures, languid melodies, drowsy chanting). Since thee production aspects of music were beginning to prevail over the music itself, it was just about natural to make them "the" music. The sound of Kid A (2000) had decomposed and absorbed countless new perfumes, like a carcass in the woods. All sounds were processed and mixed, including the vocals. Radiohead moved as close to electronica as possible without actually endorsing it. Radiohead became masters of the artificial, masters of minimizing the emotional content of very complex structures. Amnesiac (2001) replaced "music" with a barrage of semi-mechanical loops, warped instruments and digital noises, while bending Thom Yorke's baritone to a subhuman register and stranding it in the midst of hostile arrangements, sounding more and more like an alienated psychopath. Their limit was that they were more form than content, more "hype" than message, more nothing than everything.
Made strong by the success of Creep, Radiohead reappear with a whole new stew of cliches typical of British pop of the last decade: The Bends (Capitol,1995). Unfortunately Smiths' influence is apparent in most songs, from the delicate serenade of Black Star to the pulsing and dreamy single My Iron Lung, simply concealed by manic narcissism.
A more modest touch makes Fake Plastic Trees the most original song, while a rather psychedelic content makes Planet Telex the most fashionable one. The problem is the records live off the first hit, Creep, self justified and whose riff flatters on all his songs like a ghost . Radiohead's sound has little substance but great sonorous detail. Once more what counts in British Rock is the form not the content, the production work not the composition.
They had begun as third-rate disciples of the Smiths, and albums such as Pablo Honey (1993) and The Bends (1995) that were cauldrons of Brit-pop cliches. Then OK Computer (1997) happened and the word "chic" took on a new meaning. The album was a masterpiece of faux avantgarde (of pretending to be avantgarde while playing mellow pop music). It was, more properly, a new link in the chain of production artifices that changed the way pop music "sounds": the Beatles' Sgt Pepper, Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon, Fleetwood Mac's Tusk, Michael Jackson's Thriller. Despite the massive doses of magniloquent epos a` la U2 and of facile pathos a` la David Bowie, the album's mannerism led to the same excesses that detracted from late Pink Floyd's albums (lush textures, languid melodies, drowsy chanting). Since thee production aspects of music were beginning to prevail over the music itself, it was just about natural to make them "the" music. The sound of Kid A (2000) had decomposed and absorbed countless new perfumes, like a carcass in the woods. All sounds were processed and mixed, including the vocals. Radiohead moved as close to electronica as possible without actually endorsing it. Radiohead became masters of the artificial, masters of minimizing the emotional content of very complex structures. Amnesiac (2001) replaced "music" with a barrage of semi-mechanical loops, warped instruments and digital noises, while bending Thom Yorke's baritone to a subhuman register and stranding it in the midst of hostile arrangements, sounding more and more like an alienated psychopath. Their limit was that they were more form than content, more "hype" than message, more nothing than everything.
Made strong by the success of Creep, Radiohead reappear with a whole new stew of cliches typical of British pop of the last decade: The Bends (Capitol,1995). Unfortunately Smiths' influence is apparent in most songs, from the delicate serenade of Black Star to the pulsing and dreamy single My Iron Lung, simply concealed by manic narcissism.
A more modest touch makes Fake Plastic Trees the most original song, while a rather psychedelic content makes Planet Telex the most fashionable one. The problem is the records live off the first hit, Creep, self justified and whose riff flatters on all his songs like a ghost . Radiohead's sound has little substance but great sonorous detail. Once more what counts in British Rock is the form not the content, the production work not the composition.