Radiohead

Before the torrent of praise for this 1997 album, Radiohead had released a few moderate hits, opened for Alanis Morissette and were far from being one of the world's most revered bands. On OK Computer, they pull out influences as disparate as Miles Davis, Ennio Morricone, DJ Shadow and the Beach Boys, and flip their focus from inward despair to outward desolation, oppression and greed. With layers of arpeggios, distortion, electric piano, strings, even cowbell, the band take inspiration from the bleakest corners of the collective consciousness and create a haunting, brilliant beauty.

The days of whine and poses may be over, but don't tell that to Radiohead singer Thom
Yorke. He has survived the demise of grunge with all of his anxiety and disillusionment
intact. Which hardly means that his group's music hasn't matured. On the contrary,
Radiohead are one of the few guitar-based bands of the mid-'90s that has grown by leaps
and bounds. When their first single, "Creep," leapt out of MTV's Buzz Bin, in 1993,... More >

My favorite Pink Floyd album has always been Wish You Were Here, and you know why? It has soul, that's why--it's Roger Waters's lament for Syd, not my idea of a tragic hero but as long as he's Roger's that doesn't matter. Radiohead wouldn't know a tragic hero if they were cramming for their A levels, and their idea of soul is Bono, who they imitate further at the risk of looking even more ridiculous than they already do. So instead they pickle Thom Yorke's vocals in enough electronic marginal distinction to feed a coal town for a month. Their art-rock has much better sound effects than the Floyd snoozefest Dark Side of the Moon. But it's less sweeping and just as arid. (Grade: B-)