When I try to picture myself in fifty or sixty years time, it ultimately ends up coming out as one of two options. I could be sitting in my huge armchair, with a pipe in my mouth (I wouldn’t actually be _smoking_ it, I’ve always just thought it’d look cool) and a few grandchildren running round my feet as my wife knits away happily on the other side of the room. Either that, or I’d be sitting in my armchair – alone – and waiting for someone to _finally_ come visit me. Stereotypical? Depressing? I don’t care – either way, I’d definitely still be listening to The Bends.

It’s very rare that you come across an album as eminently enjoyable, timeless and utterly moving as this is. Almost every song is genius, an instant classic, and this isn’t even Radiohead’s best!

Considering that most of the other great British bands had, by now, released their career-defining albums - Suede had Dog Man Star, Oasis had Definitely Maybe, Blur had Parklife and the Manic Street Preachers had The Holy Bible – it was time for these young Oxford punks to come up with something really special. They had alluded to the possibility on their eccentric little EP, My Iron Lung. But as it turned out, that EP was only a precursor – just a taste of what was to come. It was almost as if the band had to learn to crawl before they could walk, like most babies do. With the 1995 release of The Bends, Thom Yorke and co overtook the best Olympic sprinters to cross the finishing line effortlessly. And thus eclipsed probably all of the above albums, marking themselves as the finest British band around at the time – even although the press wouldn’t admit it until they released OK Computer.

They also carved a little niche for themselves in the video stakes. The little miniature masterpiece that was the Just video leaves me exceedingly frustrated every single time I see it. _Why_ was he lying down? (I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen it). And for Fake Plastic Trees, an almost psychedelic supermarket journey in shopping trolleys. Intriguing. High And Dry took place at a building site, and as for Street Spirit – well, it was just plain _weird_. The only unfortunate thing about watching these videos is seeing Yorke, still complete with bleach-blonde hair-do. Perhaps he was still under the illusion that he was a “rock star” at this point – but personally I’m glad he got rid of the look by the time _this_ band’s career-defining album came around. Yorke never was a “rock star”, as such – and the way things are going right now he never will be. He suits the anti-social, paranoid geek look better anyway.

Why the hell do I love The Bends so much? If I were to put it simply, I’d just say that it rocks, it doesn’t rock, and it does both fantastically well. The thing that most people don’t understand about Radiohead is that they can clearly rock out with the best of them when they can be bothered. Of course, you wouldn’t know it to hear them on Kid A and Amnesiac - the stark, electronic journeys that they were. But yeah, they can crank the guitars up and blast you with a wall of ear euphoria any time. Another great thing about this album is how universally appealing it is. Seriously, while my favourite is OK Computer, its true to say that The Bends does tend to get more airplay in my home. That’s only because I’m a considerate guy, and the former provokes reactions like “this sounds like music you could slit your wrists to” – a phrase coined by my wonderful sister. Whereas with The Bends I’ve found one album that _everyone_ can find something to love about it. My wonderful sister, upon hearing High And Dry, commented: “I didn’t know Radiohead sang _that_!” And I can play this in the car: when I’m with mum, aunts, uncles, whoever the hell I want.

So we’ve established the fact that this is a glorious album, both accessible and mind-numbingly beautiful at the same time, equal parts bombast and tranquillity. Guitarist Johnny Greenwood steps it up a gear yet again – dazzling us with tremolo picking, blinding solos, killer riffs, washing acoustic strums, and any other guitar skill that you can think of. This was before he moved to fiddling with levers and switches and other weird stuff, of course. Yorke’s vocals – meanwhile – have never sounded better. He goes from slurred drunkard to sickly sweet choirboy to raving lunatic in a matter of minutes all the way through this record, and it’s simply fabulous. These two guys are the leaders of Radiohead - not to discredit the other members, they are all equally brilliant, but Yorke and the younger Greenwood provide equal parts inspiration and insanity. Evident only in flashes here, this would soon come to prominence in the later, more electronically-obsessed work. But sticking with The Bends – the last “straight rock” album that Radiohead ever recorded – it really is quite tremendous, never dull, and features an excellent mix of distortion-fuelled ballsy rockers and emotion-fuelled melodic tracks.

Track Listing
1.Planet Telex - 2.The Bends - 3.High And Dry - 4.Fake Plastic Trees - 5.Bones - 6.[Nice Dream] - 7.Just - 8.My Iron Lung - 9.Bullet Proof… I Wish I Was - 10.Black Star - 11.Sulk - 12.Street Spirit (Fade Out)

I love it when bands leave absolute classic tracks till the very end of an album, almost startling you when they sneak out of the woodwork. Too many bands nowadays use up all of their strongest tracks in the beginning stages of a CD, and it’s a really bad tactic. Radiohead – master tacticians that they are – leave the very best track they have _ever_ recorded until the very last song on the album. Street Spirit is truly amazing, trundling along on a wonderfully rolling, starry riff. Really, it feels like a starry night, and you could almost reach out and grab a handful of them, they are that close. Later on, a more chiming, melodic guitar cuts in over the top of the spiralling riff, and interjects yet more feeling into the song – like it needed any more. The choruses are long and stretched out, consisting of a simple ”Fade out again”. Except it goes more like ”Faaaaaaaaaaaade ooooouuuut agaaa-aa-aaaaain”, and you can just imagine Yorke straining over the microphone, almost blue in the face. The guitars just layer over each other magnificently, creating a dreamy texture that is irresistible and creepy at the same time. The track closes out with a repetition of the strangely positive line ”Immerse your soul in love”. I can’t speak highly enough of this song.

Many tracks are in a distinctly similar vain to this one. Opener Planet Telex is an atmospheric journey of a song, moving swiftly from a barren landscape of sound to mildly reverberating, echoic guitar tones in a matter of seconds. A playfully rolling bass line backs things up, and juddering piano chords permeate, and move in and out of proceedings. What I think is particularly interesting, is that the entire song was recorded while Yorke was well and truly hammered. Yes, that’s right, he was blind drunk. Although, I have noted that a drunk Thom Yorke sounds very similar to a sober Thom Yorke – and that is rather scary. The choruses here are a wash of hazy guitar chords, almost blowing their way across the harsh terrain evoked, as Yorke repeats ”Everything is broken”. Similar in its starkness, but much less effective, is Bullet Proof. Sounding downright depressing – and this is one case where I _will_ say that Radiohead sound depressing – the track kind of struggles along slowly and dirge-like. The choruses are a little sweeter, as Yorke raises pitch to insane levels, but all-in-all, this is a plodding, drab number that never really forces the listener to raise anything more than an eyebrow.

One of my favourite tracks on here is [Nice Dream], placed so strategically as it is, right in the middle of a bunch of harder rocking numbers. The band have a habit of throwing curveballs all over the place on this CD – just when you think they are settling down into a hard-rocking (or calm) groove, they mix things up a little bit. The above track is an epic and terrifying journey into the mind of Yorke. Sprinklings of acoustic strumming kick proceedings off, as the song is reassuring and friendly, almost light and fluffy. Sooner or later though, everything breaks out, and we are greeted with a horrific, screeching solo that manages to ruin our “nice dream”. Both aspects of this one are truly brilliant – strings really push the quieter sections forward, and the sheer distortion is enough to fuel the meaner side of things. Meanwhile, Fake Plastic Trees is one of the more accomplished tracks in Radiohead’s oeuvre. I once heard this one as a mere instrumental – on a classical radio station, would you believe – and it still sounded great. Things build up slowly, stanza by stanza. At the start the strong-ish strum of a guitar and the slight hint of strings in the background are all we really get to accompany things. But the last stanza always sends a shiver down my spine. Drums have fully kicked in and Yorke’s vocals are stunning as he wails ”She looks like the real thing / She tastes like the real thing / My fake plastic love / But I can’t help the feeling / I could blow through the ceiling / If I just turn and run”. The strings have risen and dominate, pulling everything else along and the guitars have an electric edge. Simply stunning.

Not to neglect the rocking side of the album, as I enjoy it just as much, if not more. Some of these are pretty standard fare. Particularly the title track, which every other Radiohead fan seems to love, but I have never had strong feelings towards. Sure, it has a powerful and distinctive intro and riff, and some great chunky guitar work by Johnny Greenwood, but it all seems a bit forced and slightly generic to me. The lyrics _do_ inject some interest, though: ”I need to wash myself again, to hide all the dirt and the pain / I’d be scared that there’s nothing underneath / And who are my real friends?”. I much prefer the balls-out rock of Just, the aforementioned cool-video-originator. Seriously, some of the most inspired riffage in the band’s history can be found, all nicely summed and packaged up, right here in this stunning four or so minutes. A steady acoustic strum is eclipsed by wildly distorted wailing guitars, which are then complimented by innocently moaning guitar tones. Choruses are aggressive, bile filled affairs (”You do it to yourself, you do / And that’s what really hurts / You do it to yourself, just you / You and no-one else”). I struggle to keep track of the number of potential “solo” moments in this one, and as Greenwood riffs away towards the end, chopping and changing like a maniac and coming up with some of the craziest things you ever heard, you can’t help but wonder if this is the best that Radiohead _ever_ rocked. There’s certainly enough feedback, screaming, distortion and wild soloing present to make that claim. Following hotly on the heels of this – right after it in the track listing – is another particularly harsh number by the name of My Iron Lung. The song actually appears to have a fairly simple and cute structure to begin with – sweetly spiralling guitar riff and plodding bass – but soon it breaks out into a horrific, cathartic monster. The loud sections here take the band to whole different levels – if you listen to those parts alone, it could _almost_ be considered metal. The vocals are unintelligible, and the guitars are so distorted that your ears will just be ripped off – and that will be the end of it. Expect to jump around and throw yourself against walls when listening to this song, as it does actually encourage serious bodily harm.

There are a few other straight rock numbers that I don’t want to spend too much time on. Bones turns out to be a mess of insanely distorted guitars and rolling bass, and happens to be the most disjointed and downright _filthy_ track musically. Black Star and Sulk appear in tandem later on in the album. Both are fairly standard rock fare, but with the latter, Radiohead prove that they can indeed still be truly outstanding even when they play every other band at their own game. The chorus, sprightly guitar riff, monstrous solo, bouncing bass line, drum bursts and general flowing attitude of this one make it universally appealing to the max, and I fail to see why anyone should not enjoy this track immensely. I certainly do.

It would appear that the only track I have neglected to mention is one of the singles – High And Dry. Musically, it is fairly simple, with crashing drums and another sprightly acoustic riff. Lyrically, it is typical Radiohead fare: ”Drying up in conversation / You will be the one who cannot talk / All your insides fall to pieces / You just sit there wishing you could still make love”. The solo here is actually pretty restrained, you could say. But they incorporate it into the chorus the next time around, and that just sounds sublime. Yorke’s wails in the chorus complete the despairing feel of this one perfectly.

Now that I have sufficiently shown why I love The Bends so much, I think its about time you found out for yourself. If you haven’t already, that is. I will reiterate once more – this is an utterly brilliant, timeless masterpiece from Radiohead. And I don’t throw the term “masterpiece” around lazily. Being everything you could want in a CD, it provides the listener with distorted mayhem, tranquil acoustic joy, swooning strings, melodic majesty and vocal superiority all in the space of just under fifty minutes. It is an essential album for any discerning music fan to have in their collections and one of the best of all time. I’ll still be listening to it when I’m 78… will you?

Excellent: High And Dry, Fake Plastic Trees, [Nice Dream], Just, My Iron Lung, Sulk, Street Spirit
Good: Planet Telex, The Bends, Bones, Black Star
Average: Bullet Proof
Weak: NONE

Final Rating: 18/20


Next up: OK Computer


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



Recommended: Yes