Top 10 Radiohead Songs (Before King of Limbs)

Radiohead's 8th album, The King of Limbs, will be released this Saturday on 2/19/2011. The band announced it only five days before the release date, to the surprise of everyone, and on Valentine's Day, no less! Next to nothing is known about this album -- no one knows what it might sound like, what songs are on there, or even how many songs are on the album. And the release is all the more exciting because of it.

I finally decided to take the time to pick my top-10 Radiohead songs so far. This is mostly because this task will only get harder from now on, but also because I'm waiting for some results to be generated and have some time to kill. Oh, and also because I'm out-of-my-mind excited about Saturday :-)

I've chosen not to rank them (picking them was hard enough!), but to instead present them here in "chronological" order. Enjoy!

Street Spirit [Fade Out]

All these things into position / All these things we'll one day swallow whole

The Bends is a pessimistic album. It makes its way through songs about disappointment, human fragility, and losing touch with reality. Street Spirit, the last song of the album, starts much the same way. Against painfully beautiful arpeggio, it paints scenes of alienation, frustration and finally, death -- a fitting if depressing way to close out the album. Until, of course, the very end, when suddenly, the chords change, and Thom Yorke blurts out, surprisingly and uncharacteristically, "Immerse your soul in love". The song then switches back, and ends on a lingering and uncertain note, leaving the listener stunned. Did they just sneak in a prescription for the long list of illnesses that they've painstakingly documented for an entire album? Did they really? The tiny, brief glimpse of the maybe, possibly hopeful, brings the album to a nuanced, and almost bizarrely cheerful, close.

Paranoid Android

Ambition makes you look pretty ugly / Kicking squealing gucci little piggy

Paranoid Android is the Bohemian Rhapsody of Radiohead, a three-part opus packed with crunching guitars and a somber death march. The narrator of the song is an archetypal Radiohead character -- angry, threatening, but in fact powerless and ultimately pathetic. He rains insults and disdain on all walks of life, and though he allows for a moment of grief as he finds himself alienated, the moment is brief, and the song unforgivingly kicks back into screaming high gears. The song's personality is as schizophrenic as the central character, and it's at turns crazy and beautiful.

Subterranean Homesick Alien

They'd shut me away / But I'd be all right

Radiohead takes the most beautiful theme of the alien abduction mythology -- the yearning for escape, for something better, for anything -- and makes this beautiful song. I doubt this song will show up on anyone else's top-10 list, but it is firmly on mine. It starts out quietly, with the narrator lamenting the small town where he is stuck, and wishing to be taken away. He speaks in a cautious tone, slowly and unsure of himself. But after dreaming about being taken onboard and seeing the truth, his tone suddenly turns frantic and desperate -- "I'd tell all my friends but they'll never believe me / They'd think that I've finally lost it completely / I'll show them the stars and the meaning of life" -- and then he abruptly stops, and eventually, whispers, sadly, "But they'd shut me away". And he pauses again, and then, smilingly, coyly, reassures himself -- "But I'd be all right". Breathtaking.

Exit Music (for a film)

You can laugh a spineless laugh / We hope your rules and wisdom choke you

Exit Music tells the story of a quiet personal revolution and escape. The opening scenes are tender, set in a misty dawn, when one person wakes another as they prepare for their journey ahead. The words are spoken in whispers, between the two people. But half way through the song, the music suddenly and inexplicably turns loud and oppressive, and the characters turn outwards, almost towards the listeners, accusing them, daring them. "You can laugh", they sneer; "We hope your rules and wisdom choke you". It's a chilling, powerful climax that then fades away, repeating "We hope that you choke" as they disappear into the night.

Everything in Its Right Place

Everything / In Its Right Place

OK Computer was released in 1997, and it shot Radiohead into superstardom. The band played to sold-out rock arenas everywhere. Music critics lavished praise on the album and the band, and titled Radiohead with nothing less than the savior of rock. The band couldn't handle all this pressure, and went into a meltdown (which is well-documented by the excellent film Meeting People Is Easy). They shut themselves off from the outside world. They went back to the recording studio, with the heavy burdens of impossible expectations, and began the famously torturous recording sessions post-OK Computer (documented by Ed's diary). Nobody knew what the new album would sounds like. They probably didn't know themselves. Years later, Radiohead came out of the cave with two albums worth of songs, broken up into Kid A (2000) and Amnesiac (2001).

Everything in Its Right Place is the first song of Kid A, and it is how Radiohead chose to greet the world again. Few people were prepared for the cold, electronic pulses and tone that met them, the sampled voices, nonsensical lyrics, and electric piano chopped up and mixed up, sounding like everything is decidedly not in its right place. Where are the guitars? Listeners may press on, but the other songs in the album did not offer any comfort. This weird, electro-techno-whatever album sounds nothing like OK Computer. This is Radiohead, reborn.

Everything in Its Right Place is a great song in its own right -- its electronic notes are cold yet comforting, a little sad but also very beautiful. By adding a stronger, pulsating beat to it, the band has made this song its favorite way to wrap up a live performance. But it's all the more significant because of the context mentioned above -- after this song, Radiohead is never the same again.

How to Disappear Completely

I'm not here / This isn't happening

This is probably my favorite Radiohead song, and according to Thom Yorke, it documents how he felt through the OK Computer fiasco. This is the fourth song on Kid A, and the song starts, for the first time in the album, with the strumming sound of an acoustic guitar, before quickly being accompanied and nearly overwhelmed by the ondes martenot. As more instruments join in, the songs becomes incredibly lush and beautiful, shining and shimmering all over. But just as you think the song is about to end, something goes terribly wrong. Suddenly, the notes are bent out of shape, the chords collapse into dissonance, and you look around in panic, as if this beautiful veneer you've built is suddenly melting away, revealing the ugly monster underneath, struggling to get out... But no worries. Quickly, you regain control, you pave over the monster again, and you're back to your shining, beautiful self. Nope, this isn't happening at all.



Idioteque

We're not scaremongering / This is really happening

Idioteque is the thematic counterpoint to "How to Disappear Completely" on Kid A. Unlike that earlier song, Idioteque is fast, harsh, urgent, nearly soulless and completely devoid of any comfort. It is percussion-driven by a drum machine, has very little melody, and sketches out the apocalypse that all songs from Kid A up to this point have been very vaguely referencing. And bizarrely, this concoction of difficult, strange beats and lyrics is also a fan-favorite as the danciest Radiohead song.



Pyramid Song

And we all went to heaven in a little row boat / There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt

One of a handful of songs that Thom performs in front of a piano, Pyramid Song is an other-worldly ballad that sounds incredibly lush. The imagery is beautiful -- unbelievably golden rays of light shining down as the narrator paddles towards the skies. Just sit down and listen to this.



Life in a Glass House

Of course I'd like to sit around and chat / But someone's listening in

Life in a Glass House stands out from the Radiohead canon as the jazziest song; they've never done anything like this before or since. It features jazz trumpeter Humphrey Lyttleton, and the bronze punctuates the song at every turn, commentating and arguing with Thom Yorke. The end result is a groovy, fascinating song that builds to a beautiful climax.

A Wolf at the Door

I keep the wolf from the door / But he calls me up

Hail to the Thief, the highly anticipated follow-up album to the one-two-punch of Kid A and Amnesiac, feels different. The guitars are back (kind of), and the band suddenly seems much more energetic, and increasingly at ease in blending together the two worlds of rock and electronica. The songs on the album show a new kind of confidence, and my favorite is this album closer. Unique in the Radiohead canon, it features Thom Yorke ranting and rambling fast into the microphone, moving from one platitude to the next in a stream of consciousness, and listing the various neuroses that make up modern life. The narrator becomes increasingly frustrated and desperate throughout the song at the thought of the proverbial wolf at the door, that finally, he gives up: "So I just go, ahh----", a useless, non-solution proposed in face of useless, abstract worries.

Jigsaw Falling Into Place

Wish away the nightmare / You've got a light you can feel it on your back

Okay if you've been counting, this is the eleventh song. That means technically, In Rainbows did not make it into the top-10, but I really must mention it anyway. If Hail to the Thief is Radiohead coming across a burst of new-found energy, In Rainbows is Radiohead calming down and maturing. The songs here are quieter, slower, and more restrained, but still, ethereal and beautiful. Jigsaw Falling Into Place, though, is the danciest song on the album, and my favorite. At first glance, the song seems... almost normal. It's about two people meeting each other... in a club? The date went... well? Things are... working out? "Regard each other as you pass / She looks back, you look back / Not just once / Not just twice" This is almost fun! The song eschews the typical verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure, but instead always drives forward, jumping through clever transitions from one stanza to the next. It's energetic, catchy, and yes, damned fun.