Apparently, while I was off getting my Jack Kerouac on, two of my favorite musicians did the unthinkable: David Berman of the Silver Jews and Tad Kubler of the Hold Steady dared to criticize Radiohead.  (Berman here and Kubler here, both links via Stereogum).  Predictably, NASA had to come in to keep the internet from imploding in upon itself.  Now, catty name-calling (check out NME’s typically British headline on the Hold Steady piece) and comment-baiting (both articles are listed among the most commented on Stereogum) aside, Berman and Kubler make some interesting points.  If nothing else, they should be praised for daring to have a differing opinion.  Radiohead has entered the Realm of the Untouchable where, nestled alongside Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, and Bob Dylan, they can release virtually anything to critical acclaim.  This is dangerous, dangerous territory; if artists can’t criticize Radiohead for making a pretty meh record, can Radiohead really compare America under Bush to an Orwellian state?  Hail to the thief, indeed.

So, in the name of the First Amendment and Barack Obama’s vice presidential announcement, I’ve decided to make my voice heard.  This is a change I can believe in.  

 

David Berman: To me, what I would like to hear from Radiohead would be something besides a feeling. I would like it if Radiohead would sing something that you could take with you.

Pitchfork: That you could put in your pocket.

 

I just got my computer back from the shop, and was startled when I looked in iTunes and realized that I’ve listened to “15 Step” and “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” ten times each.  Besides the buckling drums that kick off “15 Step” (the first ten seconds of the album, in other words), I couldn’t really tell you much about In Rainbows.  When I put my top ten list together back in December/January, it didn’t even cross my mind to put Radiohead on the list (and I was reaching for things to fill it out, too: I included Akron/Family’s Love is Simple, a record that I still don’t think I’ve listened to the whole way through).  I couldn’t quote more than two or three lines of lyrics for you, and I could possibly pin the title on one or two other tracks.

I listened to In Rainbows again today, and I still feel the same way that I’ve felt since it came out: nothing.  And that’s where I disagree with Berman; he thinks that they’re only singing about feelings, and I get nothing but frost.  This is a cold, cold record.  With the exception of the minor rock-out that closes “Bodysnatchers,” there’s very little emotion here at all.  ”All I Need” was lauded when the record initially dropped as being Thom Yorke’s first straight-ahead love song.  If this is what he thinks it sounds like to be in love, then someone needs to wake him up; there’s not an ounce of passion anywhere in here, from the ship-rowing bass piano to the sheer boredom in his voice.  In their review, Blender said that In Rainbows is “primarily composed of love songs … that are starving for human connection but generate all the interpersonal warmth of a GPS system.”  I agree with the GPS image, but if these would-be lovers were really starving, wouldn’t they cry out to be fed?  Wouldn’t there be pain, aching, or at the very least some sense of want?  The computer voice in “Fitter Happier” sounds more passionate.

This is Radiohead, though, so the record sounds great.  The production is beautiful; the cymbals in “Reckoner,” in particular, sound wonderful, even if the verse is kinda a rip-off of Midlake’s “Roscoe.”  And I think that that’s how Radiohead got by on this one — they made a record that sounds like a great record, even though it isn’t.  Its universal acceptance says something that Radiohead themselves would appreciate: we’re not really paying attention, are we?  With ears at half-mast, In Rainbows sounds like it’s probably pretty epic, and it fits well in the small spaces behind Facebook and Tumblr.  I’m sure that that’s not Radiohead’s intention with In Rainbows — though I do think that they’re clever and talented enough to pull something like that off — but I do think that it’s true, and it gets at what Berman meant when he said that he wishes Radiohead would make “something that you could take with you.”  This music does not stick; it’s been slicked up in production and it slides by on a combination of name recognition and mute buttons.  In Rainbows?  Sounds more like Greyscale.  

There’s another quote from Berman, much further down in the interview, where he says

Never before has there been a “greatest band in the world” who had so little to say about anything. 

And he’s right.  I don’t feel like Radiohead have anything to say.  Are they great musicians, composers, arrangers, and producers?  Of course.  But so is Steve Vai, and I don’t see anyone making his case as World’s Greatest Artist.  And that’s because he’s not making art, and he may not even claim to (beats me; I’ve never read an interview with him); he’s just flexing his talent, and I can respect him for that.  But Radiohead do fancy themselves artists, or it’s at least the banner that’s at constant peril of being shrugged off of their apathetic shoulders.  And they certainly looked like artists eight years ago, the last time they released a record that had any teeth.  Listening to “Everything in its Right Place” (an ironic title by now), and listen to Thom’s moaning and the swirls and groans that slurry behind him, and try not to be drawn in.  That was — and still is — great art.  But at this point in their career, Radiohead have become some sort of sly self-portrait, a fancy frame done up to distract you from the fact that there’s nothing going on on the canvas.  In fact, there may not be a canvas there at all.