Radiohead came out of their debut album with an achievement most acts cannot claim; a genuine bonafide hit. But with that hit overshadowing everything else that came on Pablo Honey, there was the fear from the band that they would forever be pegged as a one-hit wonder. “Creep” was the band’s Sword of Damocles. And they saw fit to take that sword and slice all opponents who sought their end.

First came the My Iron Lung EP, which saw the band experimenting with different textures and sonic capabilities to their already layered guitar rock sound. With the lyrics from the title track having such hints as “their only song/just like the last one”, it was clear that the band was going to fight conceptions of their lack of individuality in a very active nineties music scene. This production was also important for the introduction of Nigel Godrich to the equation. He would only be the mixer for this and the band’s sophomore effort, but the relationship the band would create with their soon-to-be producer would see both parties reach new artistic levels. As it stands, The Bends would be the absolute epitome of everything the band had done before.

When I said before that Radiohead wielded that weapon hanging over their heads, I say they also did that musically. Despite the much higher regard The Bends has compared to Pablo Honey, there is not too much musical difference between the two, ranging from grungy guitar rock to beautiful ballads that accentuated Yorke’s peak falsetto. Only on one or two tracks here would the band show the sonic shifts that would come in their most popular album of this decade. The big difference here of course is the quality of the songs themselves. They would be recorded and performed during sound checks in venues, which allowed the band to tailor make their songs for exactly the places they wanted to perform, and also introduce a group

Who the band were performing for too was an interesting question, as the music culture of the UK was taking a noticeable turn to pop optimism. Brit Pop, as it would soon be labelled was in full swing, with great acts like Pulp finally getting mainstream attention, and of course the much touted musical war of Blur vs. Oasis, which we are far enough away from to conclusively conclude that no one gave a shit about, even then. But one thing those two big acts had in common (of which Yorke is a noted fan of Blur) was that their music was generally populist and happy go lucky – at least in tone – harking back to the musical era of the British Invasion for inspiration in the strange cultural moment between Thatcher’s end and New Labour. Radiohead did not fit into that structure as easy. For one thing, their most obvious influences from the grunge scene and college rock were of a much bigger American tradition, then filtered through the voice of a British band.

For another they were filtering into some obviously darker territories; broken communities, societal alienation and depression to name some subjects. What’s remarkable about that is how the music doesn’t avoid the emotions in those topics, or create an ironic juxtaposition, but at the same time doesn’t wallow in them with in an ominous, inevitable fashion. It instead takes those feelings and builds upon, transcends them, and makes music that at points is just as uplifting and inspiring as its more obvious, optimistic competition.

The alien themes are clear from The Bends’ first song, appropriately named “Planet Telex” (named after the teleprinter network system). The lyrics hint to some kind of depression or lingering cynicism of the modern world, though with the words “everything is broken” it hints the same way a hammer hints at a minor concussion. The prog rock sensibilities of Jonny’s tremolo guitar show not only the progression (*cough*) of the band from their first record, as well as the amazing textures supplied by Philip’s drums, and not only present the alien world from which this music will transmission from (an idea also done on OK Computer). The chords also move back and forth from major chord to minor chord, joy to despondence. This tension will be a common theme throughout the rest of Radiohead’s music going forward.

With that comes the title track, a number which begins with the kind of ringing guitar chords and extravagant wordless vocals one would associate with Oasis and Brit Pop of the time, before quickly moving to something quieter with lingering guitar sounds. It’s here that the changing guitar dynamics move away from the Pixies formula and into the sound we associate with the band. “The Bends” of the title refers to the decompression sickness, and the sickness here is based on a lack of direction and  understanding (“where are we now?”). This is optimised in the shouts of “I wish that something would happen” in the unexpected and sudden bridge breakdown, Philips drum work bringing to mind the strange alternative rock/hip-hop of Beck’s freaky world (that would be expanded upon next year in Oderlay).

After coming close to the sounds of hip hop, the next two songs on the album moved to acoustic driven ballads. They would also be two of the band’s most popular songs, and the first of those would be “High and Dry”, a song that lyrically explores cynical portrayals of isolation, inability to hold conversation, and even suicidal tendencies (though not actual suicide), but the music raises that to “High” to angelic heights. The band doesn’t actually like the song for these reasons, thinking of it to be like a “Rod Stewart song” and associating it with the more immature Pablo Honey times when it was written. But Rod Stewart wrote some damn great songs in his time, and I don’t know how Thom Yorke could hear his incredible vocal performance and think this to be a bad song.

The next song, “Fake Plastic Trees”, is equally as ethereal and powerful. The plastic metaphors are indeed hammered into the ground, and I think with the “Plastic” part of the image the “Fake” part is pretty much accounted for, but the change of perspectives throughout the song keeps this world interesting. And by the time Thom’s screams of “But I can’t help the feeling/I could blow through the ceiling” occur through the blast of Jonny and Ed’s guitar, you feel yourself escaping that place with them.

“Bones” is a quieter, more skeletal song (ha) in the verses, and with that peer into the structure we see just what a huge contribution Colin Greenwood gives to the structure and groove of these songs. Through that sparse instrumentation rings another wave of tremolo guitar over images of broken bodies (and child, peter pan like imagination) before the choruses burst to life with sharp stabs of bending notes. With that, and the grungy, intense guitar grooves, the message of the song permeates your body, the sense like you “feel it in your bones”.

On the continuing subject of appropriate titles, “(Nice Dreams)” has the atmosphere of a sleeping world, with the backing synthesiser and guitar arpeggios. It’s lullaby like, and the lyrics match that idea of the vulnerability of a child: “They love me like I was a brother/ They protect me, listen to me/ They dug me my very own garden/Gave me sunshine, made me happy” Of all the beautiful acoustic led ballads this is the weakest, but conversely it is also the film that most points to the sound of OK Computer. It might also be the most overtly pretty, until the almost western sounding guitar bridge goes into the kind of Acting Baby style sensor overload that would wake any sane person up.

This moves onto my favourite song on the album, and one of The Bends’ most famous singles with “Just”. A competition between Thom and Jonny to include as many chords as they could into a single song, the result is a song of constant circulation, of heights and then drops, like a coming comet or the people of its famous music video. It’s lyrical subject matter is that of depression and self loathing (“You do it to yourself, you do/ And that’s what really hurts”), of said ups and down, but the guitars by Jonny, Thom and Yorke range from the blues, to grunge, to progressive rock all in such a short amount of time that it feels like an epic, not confined to just one person.

The next is “My Iron Lung”, which as we mentioned before was the instigator for the album, and in many ways the template for the album can be found on this one song alone. There’s the multiple guitar layers, diminished chords, playing with the major and minor, the break into strange musical that seem very much of a piece, and of course the sheer grungy energy. The energy of course is meant to be some kind of life support, but by the quiet interlude before the tracks final descent into madness, it is not happened on with complete negativity: “You can be frightened/You can be, it’s OK”.

“Bullet Proof…I Wish I was” is the most tender, most vulnerable and most ominous track on the record (among my favourite deep cuts from The Bends), which reaches almost country music levels of self revealing (though still with the oblique lyrics we are accustomed to with Mr. Yorke). The beginning is Jonny experimenting with his guitar Penderecki-isms that he would go on to explore throughout the band’s career, whilst Thom counterbalances that rumbling of strings with the clarity of a simple acoustic guitar, and eventually the clean electric notes floating on what sounds like manufactured breeze.

My favourite deep cut of The Bends is “Black Star”, and its surprising how this wasn’t an album single since the guitar chords of the chorus are close to the jangle’s of R.E.M. style college rock. Also because it is incredibly soaring, with rousing notes thundering through that jangle, and some of Thom’s most delicate falsettos. It’s also the closest the album comes to something that could be considered a love song – and indeed one of the only instances until In Rainbows – albeit one with a still paranoid and on edge persona.

“Sulk” is up there with “Mopey” in terms of depressing titles that parodists would make up about Radiohead, but the fact that it is a song about the shooting of seventeen children it makes the title somewhat of an understatement. The story use to be much more overt, with Thom taking the “just shoot your gun” line out in wake of Kurt Cobain’s death, but removing that information actually helps to help it follow “Black Star”, like it is a song about heartache or a break up. But despite all that, the build up to the crescendo in which Thom changes key (“You’ll never change”) and his vocals rise against everyone’s guitar’s sore is still exhilarating (Phil’s drums also help on this effect, with his jazz like stylings giving everyone room to build on).

This feeling of death moves into the apocalypse with the final song of The Bends, perhaps the oppressive, dark song the band wrote through the entire nineties, with the transcendent “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”. One of those songs that just came to Thom from nowhere, written in thirty minutes, he once described the song as a “dark tunnel without the light at the end.” But maybe the song itself is that light, with the rough guitar arpeggios and angelic backing feeling like the listener is floating away from the darkness. The final lyric, “Immerse your soul”, sounds like a sincere plea to the listener, and by the time the album ends, it helps wade us through the blue hands that otherwise would bring this finale into ultimate depression.

The Bends took, if not the promise of Pablo Honey, than the elements of their debut that felt like there could have been greatness, and rearranged those components to truly show the inspiration and individuality there. The main fault of the album, if there is one, is that the album only has the two modes of acoustic ballad and grungy cacophony, so over twelve songs the album can get a bit repetitive. Still, if that repetition is some of the best songs of the whole nineties, there are worse things you can here multiple times. And on those structures would be the foundations of so many bands career, as the end of the Brit Pop era so many bands would imitate this album for a whole new kind of arena rock style (and some like Coldplay would make millions doing it). Radiohead would also build on this album too, but in a way that broke through the four minute pattern and into an album that showed Radiohead had bigger ambitions than any of their peers. What was the result? OK…

What did you think, though?

 

Radiohead Album Rankings

1. The Bends
2. Pablo Honey

 

B-Side Corner

• “The Trickster” – The guitar heres tend be dry, jagged, made of the rust that is spoken of in the first verse. Would benefit from being three minutes as opposed to five, as unlike many songs from The Bends they don’t move beyond that singular riff. But that riff is still pretty darn cool.
• “Punchdrunk Lovesong Singalong” – Radiohead’s next album would see plenty of comparisons to the progressive rock of Pink Floyd, but I would call this song the most obvious precursor to that idea. Particularly with the chord changes, and the building lines of clean guitar. But Pink Floyd are awesome. Radiohead are awesome. So this is awesome.
• “Lozenge of Love” – The most overtly folky song the band would write. It may not be until The King of Limbs that some folk song influence would come up again. Only short, but its really interesting to listen to what is Thom Yorke doing a Nick Drake style tribute.
• “Lewis (Mistreated)” – We already get that sense with Thom’s staccato singing that he is sick of how pretty his voice sounds (which he has gone on record sometimes as saying). I don’t think the muted guitars are the best complement to that, though Phil’s drums still kick ass.
• “Permanent Daylight” – As a result of that daylight, Radiohead are gazing at their shoes. Only short, but it sees the band change tempos and clarity in an interesting way. Maybe not in the most entertaining way, however.
• “You Never Wash Up After Yourself” – Well sorry mum! Like Automatic for the People era Radiohead, right down to the themes of death, the riff unfortunately doesn’t have a lot of place to go in such a short amount of time. They would use a similar arpeggio structure for “Wolf at the Door”, though I don’t see any connection besides that.
• “Maquiladora” – The most college rock song on this whole record. This sounds more like a Pablo Honey B-Side than The Bends, and the bending guitar lines remind me of Bleach era Nirvana.
• India Rubber” – A song of obsession with dreamy like synths, processed voice and tremolo guitar. A practice run for The Bends, but one with a really good lap time.
• “How Can You Be Sure” – The gospel “High and Dry”. Though it does have some lovely backup vocals from Diane Swann
• “Talk Show Host” – An utterly classic Radiohead song. Made famous by the fact it is one of two songs Radiohead wrote for Romeo + Juliet, this tracks beauty is an ever building tension. Riding the melodic minor to its absolute breaking point, the hand picked guitar and some of the most impressive drum work of Philip’s career, this all matches the ever anxious mindset of a man on the path to death. Or someone who is in love. Well it was for Romeo + Juliet, after all. I think the name “Talk Show Host” has to do with the movie though, because otherwise I have no idea.
• “Bishop’s Robes” – Thom turns his experiences at school into a song about losing faith in the religious establishment. There is just not enough build up to stop everything from going a little limp, but I think that is the best metaphor for what is going on beneath those things.
• “Molasses” – A song about black treacle. It lurches forward as though you are caught in a barrel of the stuff.