Now git dis here. I wuz in muh ma f*ckin crib da other day, listening ta dis here CD by some gang called Radiohead. They can come up wiff some really weird sheeit! But it's all uh bunch o' crap, an' sounds so boring dat it made me wants ta fall asleep. None o' da songs gots tunes, da singer sounds like he's dying or somethin', an' basically - I wants ta burn it. They shouldn't be allowed ta make rap. What 'chew trippin foo'.

Recommended
No

















Oh, look! It appears that, in a moment of what can only be described as total frustration and hatred for the world, I decided to post my Kid A review entirely in Ebonics (provided by the nifty Ebonics translator at this here address: www.joel.net/EBONICS/translator.asp [subliminalmessagetryitit’smildlyamusing/subliminalmessage]). I thought it’d be unexpected, as it’s different from what I’d normally do. Also, it’d probably throw a few of my less committed readers off-track, reducing them to blubbering wrecks. Now, can what I did here be related to the CD I’m about to review in any way? Well folks, it can indeed.

For a start, OK Computer was always going to be a mind-numbingly difficult album for Radiohead to follow up. That album, released in 1997, had propelled them into rock’s stratosphere – where only legends such as The Beatles and Led Zeppelin reside. Thom Yorke – a man who had been overwhelmed even by the mild success of their first hit single Creep – was bound to be having some seizures at the thought of his band being up there as one of the all-time greatest, with hordes of drooling zombies as fans. So he went into the studio for three years. But what was he looking to come up with? Some would say that this album is a reflection of Yorke’s fear of fame, and that he created the harsh, uninviting electronic landscapes in order to kick away some of the sheep-like followers that the band had gathered. Others may say that he’s just a raving madman who loves to twist people’s minds and confuse them beyond belief. Still more would insist that he’s a genius – who wants to progress musically and not stick to the same, rigid style for too long. Frankly, who cares which is right? All that matters is that we got Kid A out of it – and while some may love it and some hate it profusely, we cannot change the fact that it is _here_, among us and part of Radiohead’s history.

So, while Yorke and the crew fiddled away in the studio, fans waited in anticipation, expecting either The Bends #2, or OK Computer #2 - probably. What they were presented with at the turn of the millennium was this quirky little piece of plastic known as Kid A. But little did they know of it’s quirky nature – and so all the rabid zombies lurched forth and grabbed the disc with their filthy paws as soon as they could – thus the album shot to top of the charts in most places. However, after they had actually _listened_ to it, many would have revered it, while some would just have been left dumb-founded. All the time you could imagine Yorke sitting at home, cackling to himself and rubbing his hands together with glee. I’m pretty sure that he’s a nice guy really, and that his main intention was not to alienate anyone, but it happened whether he tried it or not. You see, the bleakness of Kid A was just too much for casual Radiohead fans to deal with. There wasn’t anything for them to grasp hold of and use as a sort of lifeline. Sure, OK Computer was a little odd itself, but it was fairly easy to make the transition from The Bends to it, if one concentrated enough. However, this album is just off the chart in the odd scale. Everyone says this, so I’m just going to reiterate – this is _not_ for everyone. Not by any means. I can’t count the number of people I’ve tried to introduce to the band. They could deal with the first few albums, but when they got to this one, all my hard work went flying out of the window. It was just too much for them to take in, and to try and deal with. I, for one, took at least a year to fully understand Kid A - and then I reviewed it on this site. About a year later, it has grown on me still. Damn… I almost awarded it five stars this time.

While the album may at first appear very cold and uninviting, as a listener you just have to get past that stage and appreciate every little eccentricity present in the thing. The obsessive Radiohead die-hards (i.e. me) will notice – under the little pop-up thingy that holds the CD down (I dunno what that’s called) – a glimpse of cartoon-ish drawings. Of course, being the obsessive fans that they are, they will then lift up the casing, and underneath find a cute little book. It is comic-like in presentation, and littered with many useful sentence fragments, such as “eyes popped out like cigarette machines”, “we are cabbage patch gibbering dolls” and “for Christmas I got you a pre-packed newborn slave to serve your every need: no blood, no mess, just reheat”. Intriguingly, all the lyrics that are on the album can be located among this gibberish. It seems as if Yorke just wrote down whatever came into his head, put them all together, and picked out certain things to use in the songs. Ah, the lyrics on Kid A. As sparse as you come for sure. Probably meaningless, too. Most of the songs contain one or two general sentiments or ideas, and the lines are frequently repeated ad nauseum. It actually leaves the listener to ponder whether Yorke _actually_ has a story to tell with these, or whether he is just having a laugh at all of the people who will try to interpret them as something, when really they mean nothing at all. I prefer to just sit, listen and giggle at some of the insanity. It’s kinda fun, and y’all serious lyric-interpreters should try it some time.

Getting to the music, I told you it was out-there, and this is definitely not something you want to play when anyone of a nervous disposition is present. Or anyone who dislikes pretension in music (fool). Or someone who likes their music catchy. Indeed, Kid A rules out a virtual plethora of music listeners right from the off. What’s so special about the music on here is that it will only be able to be _truly_ appreciated by a select minority – and I’m proud to be part of said minority. But then again, I’m only giving it four stars, so perhaps I’m not part of it? Who knows… Anyway, the music is stripped-down (in a way) and very basic yet manages to retain its complexity and bewildering nature beautifully. Guitars and bass can wave bye-bye for now – although they do throw the occasional bass line or guitar melody in there to hold at least some interest. Plus, it gives bassist Colin Greenwood and second guitarist Ed O’Brien something to do rather than sitting around and twiddling their thumbs. Drums? “Who needs ‘em!” says Yorke. So all they do – basically – is get Phil Selway to play a short little piece, then either chop it up or mangle it into something unrecognisable. Would be kinda fun, but it doesn’t leave the balding drummer with much to do. Then again, why should Yorke and Johnny Greenwood care? They provide the decidedly weird touches – as the younger Greenwood loops Yorke’s vocals and mixes up all kinds of bleeps and bloops and blips, the frontman sits back in view of it all. This scenario probably paints a picture of discontent concerning the band, so I’m fairly sure it’s not _exactly_ like this in practice, but it must come somewhere close. For Kid A is an album devoid of little conventional instrumentation – sounding at times like an electronic circus, but at others – when the basic instruments are allowed to take part – a reasonably coherent album. It’s kinda funky, and kinda hard to describe – particularly when trying to tell people _why_ you love it – but I’ll give it a shot.

Track Listing
1.Everything In It’s Right Place - 2.Kid A - 3.The National Anthem - 4.How To Disappear Completely - 5.Treefingers - 6.Optimistic - 7.In Limbo - 8.Idioteque - 9.Morning Bell - 10.Motion Picture Soundtrack

Probably the most maligned track in the Radiohead oeuvre is Treefingers. It just so happens that it rests virtually in the centre of this very album. Now, I’m not for one minute going to call it the centre-piece, or even say that it’s any good at all – but what I will say is that it brings in one side of the album and opens up another. You see, I probably found the first half of Kid A the kookiest and hardest to “get” – the band don’t exactly ease you into things slowly. Everything after Treefingers, I found fairly enjoyable very quickly. I won’t say that it’s the most stimulating piece of music I’ve ever heard – in fact, it’s quite the opposite, and you could easily fall asleep to this – but I see it as more of a transition than a track. Plus, it makes me feel all relaxed and almost anaesthetized inside! Consisting of nothing more than a series of intermittent tones, this is the pinnacle of sparseness. My friend tells me that guitar players appreciate this track, so obviously these must be guitar tones of some sort. Well, whatever type of tones they are, they prove to be very desolate and yearning. The track still doesn’t do anything for me though, and I’m guessing that it never will.

It seems a lot easier to start with some of the “easier” material on here, and they don’t come much easier than Optimistic, a track that – unless I’m wrong – doesn’t really belong on here. With its main idea resting on a sense of positivity (”You can try the best you can / The best you can is good enough”) – be it false or not – it runs along nicely on a sprightly, but abrasive-sounding, acoustic guitar riff. Yorke’s vocals are intelligible, which makes a nice change, and the drums actually play a standard beat – even if they do pick up at the end and start filling relentlessly. However, the normality doesn’t last. By the time the track is almost at an end everything implodes (really), and we are left with dull, ominous electronic tones that resemble the previous tune but don’t even come close to its chirpiness. These segue comfortably into In Limbo, another effective bridging song. But, unlike Treefingers, I actually consider this one a fine piece of music. More guitars are present; playing some delicious picked melodies and spiralling away in the background. They create a very hazy and dreamy atmosphere. Things build in intensity as the track goes on, and Yorke gets more and more helpless - ”I’m lost at sea / Don’t bother me”. The drums seem to be pattering away almost separate from the actual song. It’s as if Selway had a set of headphones on, and was playing along to whatever he was listening to rather than what the rest of the band were doing. No matter how much guitar is present, it still can’t throw a veil over all the stuttering, uncertain fragments of electronic mess that permeate the rest of proceedings.

Morning Bell marks the first distinctive drumbeat on the album, and it comes in the penultimate song. This one is also one of the creepiest pieces of music I have heard. Despite the innocent little drum loop – very simple and plodding away steadily, almost seeming unaware – this track is a monster. Ominous tones and the slightest touch of bass make up the rest of the music – oh, and Yorke’s vocals are eerily calm, as he sings things like ”Cut the kids in half”. The way the drums pick up at certain points would have you believing that they’re _not_ looped, but in a way, they are the trademark of the song – about the only consistent and certain thing about it. There is a huge gap before closer Motion Picture Soundtrack comes drifting slowly in. It’s certainly very high on the relaxation scale, a very peaceful and restrained track. Dominated by lingering organ notes, and Yorke’s depressed vocals, this one really kicks into gear about two minutes in. Some fluttering, almost angelic sounds come cascading in from everywhere, and you may feel like you’re in heaven – or something to that effect at least. When the song ends, there is an extended silence before another short piece of music plays. Then the band tease you by leaving a huge gap tagged on at the end, during which nothing happens. Anti-climactic? Yeah. Cool? You bet.

Although the second section of the album could hardly be considered normal, it’s nothing when compared to the first half, which kicks off in typically confusing vain. Everything In It’s Right Place doesn’t exactly do what it says on the tin – it actually makes the listener feel decidedly uncomfortable and out-of-place. Driven solely by deep, oppressive organ tones, this one is probably one of the first songs that you will pick up the tune of. But it will be the one you will still be confused about a few years later. Yorke’s voice is looped (by none other than Johnny Greenwood – the twisted genius) many times, and while the singer croons away, the little segments of his voice are played forwards, backwards and any other way you can think of in the background. It’s almost as if your ears are being taken over by thousands of tiny little Thom Yorkes, all madly chanting as if hypnotised. Lines such as ”Yesterday I woke up sucking on lemon” and “There are two colours in my head”, when repeated to breaking point, do nothing to ease the confusion.

Following on from this is the child-like, yet strangely intimidating title track, with its main sentiment seeming to be ”We’ve got heads on sticks”. Hmmm. Anyway, the general tone is playful, as the drums punch out a very shuffling, juddering beat. Yorke’s vocals are distorted beyond all recognition, and there are some mildly annoying squeaking vocals present in the background. The ominous tones and creepy, bouncing melodies add an extra-thick layer of tension to the whole track. This is probably the hardest song to “get” on the whole album, and I applaude you if you can crack it in less than a year. The most helpless and despairing thing on the CD, How To Disappear Completely, happens to occur in the first half as well. This track marks the first appearance of guitar, and at the time it’s actually quite refreshing. Yorke affirms that ”This isn’t happening” the whole way through, as the song continues to build in confidence. The gentle strum is soon accompanied by a steady, shaking drumbeat, and eerie electronic wails that weave in and out of proceedings. Eventually everything culminates in one of the most enchantingly beautiful pieces of music you are likely to hear. Yorke’s vocals rise to their highest heights – for the rest of the track he has been lazy and drab – and some stammering electronic noises come in, sounding vaguely like brass. They may well be, but on this album it’s hard to distinguish anything. A gorgeous closing couple of minutes that has to be heard.

Still, I haven’t talked about probably the two best things about Kid A. These two tracks can be taken out of context easily, and are therefore the standout tracks. This may not be immediately apparent, but I have come to realise it recently. Actually, I tell a lie. I knew that Idioteque had the potential to be brilliant the first time I heard it. It’s probably the only song on the album that leaps out from the fray, due to its unique style and a sort of latent energy, if you will. It’s actually a “dance” tune – although not in the conventional sense. You won’t, for instance, hear this being played at clubs in Ibiza or anything. But it is still fabulous, and bewilderingly complex. A dense, popping backing beat thunders out throughout the whole song, driving it along on a wave of rhythm. Many cutting and almost metallic noises edge their way in, and sweep their way over the top of things like vultures. The processed drums are shuffling, and couple with the rhythmic pulses perfectly. All the while, Yorke splutters pointless sentence fragments such as ”Ice age coming” and “Women and children first” - growing decidedly more frantic as the song reaches its climax. Breathtaking, and easily my favourite track on here.

The National Anthem is one track that I never really “got” up until a few months ago. Apparently, it’s even better live, and I’d _love_ to find out for myself someday. Colin Greenwood locks into a solid bass groove, which carries the whole song. It’s one of those surprisingly complex sounding – while being so utterly simplistic – bass lines. And it quickly becomes very addictive. According to my friend (the Treefingers-appreciating one), this is a “learn in thirty second” type of song. So, it appears that the bass line _is_ as simple as I make it out to be. As the track progresses through it’s near six-minute length, more and more brass is added, to accompany the uneasily spooky wails that were in the mix anyway. The whole thing reaches the peak of uncertainty before exploding, and then settling brilliantly.

Whatever Thom Yorke was trying to accomplish with Kid A, he probably provoked just the type of thing he _didn’t_ want – debate concerning his band. Of course, the nation kicked up a huge fuss about this CD – some loved it and couldn’t understand why others didn’t feel the same way; some hated it and couldn’t figure out why it was possible to love it. I’m somewhere in the middle, as per usual. While I can see why a lot of people simply cannot process this, I can also understand why so many people love it to pieces. It’s certainly Radiohead’s most consistently weird album, and the toughest out of anything they’ve ever done to get into. I suggest picking up OK Computer first, and if you can appreciate all of its little eccentricities, then you might stand a chance with Kid A. Give it a shot if you can, because seriously – this kid’s worth all the nappy-changing and late-night feeding you’ll have to go through to love it.

Excellent: The National Anthem, Optimistic, In Limbo, Idioteque
Good: Everything In It’s Right Place, Kid A, How To Disappear Completely, Morning Bell, Motion Picture Soundtrack
Average: Treefingers
Weak: NONE

Final Rating: 17/20


Next up: Amnesiac


More on the best band in the world
Pablo Honey
My Iron Lung EP
The Bends
OK Computer
Airbag EP
Amnesiac
Hail To The Thief
Com Lag

Recommended: Yes