You know the feeling. You're finally secure in your own wretchedness, at peace with the fact that your clothes aren't the hippest and your friends aren't big wheels. But then you're drawn to someone so perfect, so unattainable, you just want to weep--and instead you end up berating your pathetically uncool self and sneering at this special person't position. Yeah, right.
Last year, English pop sensations Radiohead eloquently cast that feeling into their first single, "Creep". Vocalist Thom E. Yorke's initial quiet despair is cracked wide open with a jarring, fragmentation grenade of a guitar riff that grabs you ears and twists hard. When the video hit MTV earlier this year, U.S. masochists lapped it up--much to the Oxford quintet's surprise.
"It's frightening," confides soft-spoken "abusive guitar" player Johnny Greenwood, the one responsible for the soul-ripping blast that diffuses Yorke's depression like any good manic swing should. "We still feel very much like a new band, really. It just feels very fast."
Indeed, "Creep" -- from Radiohead's debut Capitol Records album, Pablo Honey--seemed to take over the airwaves rather suddenly. But the song actually languished for months in the band's native land, partly because, Greenwood says, journalists there were more interested in Radiohead for the group's release of a cleaned-up version, in which the object of desire is merely "so very special." (The version on the CD expresses the same concept, albeit a bit more stringently!) Greenwood says they initially balked at going radio-friendly, but ultimately decided that, if Dinosaur Jr., and Sonic Youth could do it, so could Radiohead. "But, sadly, we didn't get away with it," he notes, in reference to the band's lambasting by the press for "selling out." (Curiously, by the end of 1992, those very same writers had changed their tune, voting "Creep" one of the year's best singles. Go figure.)
This minor controversy has fortunately not overshadowed Radiohead's real noteworthiness as one of the most exciting new pop bands around. They've managed to translate heaps of angst into a fetching fusion of loudness and introspection, and the appeal is cemented by creative three-guitar interplay among Greenwood, Yorke, and "polite guitar" player Ed O'Brien, ably propped up by Colin Greenwood's inventive bass and Phil Selway's rock steady drumming. Each member has distinct musical tastes--from classical to country--but Radiohead's unique sound is a focused blend of punk, new way, and grunge. Educated ears will, however, notice an undeniable question from The Hollies' "The Air That I Breathe" near the end of Creep--and rest assured it was intentional.
"What happened was, we wrote 'Creep', and the middle eighth just had...my guitar playing a tune," says Greenwood. "And Ed stopped [us] and said, 'This is the same chord sequence as that Hollies song,' and then sang it. So Thom copied it. It was funny to us in a way, sort of feeding something like that into [it]. It's a bit of change."
The press kit contends that Radiohead is "the antithesis of rock'n'roll," but the band is grounded in rebellion, and what could be more rock'n'roll that ? They twist typical subjects like romance into festivals of simultaneous self-hatred and lashing out, with Yorke's poetic lyrics venting frustration, anger, and yearning, channeled through rampaging, grimy riffs that are barely held in check by the songs' tight structures. And, although optimism pops up regularly on tunes like "Anyone Can Play Guitar" (the second single) and the plaintive soul tonic "Lurgee", you get the feeling that Yorke is one troubled individual.
Not exactly, says Greenwood. "Like the rest of the band, he sort of doesn't have any friends, really--which is a bit weird. We got back to Oxford after touring...and it was really sad. We all got home, and I phoned up one or two people that we knew, who were away, and then we ended up sort of phoning each other up again."
This group of college chums started playing music together for the same reason most people do: out of boredom. With such a guitar-heavy sound, it's shocking to learn that earlier editions of the band, which officially became Radiohead in 1991, were not so axe-intensive. Weirdly enough, the first incarnation included a horn section. "It was just basically the same [kind of sound] but with saxophones," says Greenwood. "It's hard to believe, but we had three of them, and it harder and harder to write parts for them."
Although Colin, Radiohead's bassist, is Jonny's older brother, it wasn't easy for Jonny to grab his own slot. "The rest of the band are basically [Colin's] friends," Jonny says. "So it was me following them around and begging them to let me be in their band for two or three years. And they finally let me in on the harmonica, actually, and then the keyboards, and finally the guitar."
While still novices in the big world of rock, Radiohead is adjusting nicely to the lifestyle. Extensive touring in the U.S. and Europe has connected them with adoring fans, who mostly just want to talk, says Greenwood, although there was a rather bizarre groupie incident in Los Angeles, which is a naked young woman appeared at his hotel-room door. "Luckily, I wasn't there," he says. "I was, like, miles away. But it was described to me. I felt very, very thankful [to have been away]."
The band has also rubbed elbows with the newly canonized PJ Harvey, opening up for them in New York and Los Angeles, which Greenwood says was a real honor. "She's really great," he enthuses like a fan-boy. When Radiohead hits the road again in September they'll pair up with Tanya Donelly's band Belly. "We can't wait," he says, confessing like a schoolboy that, when Belly played a gig at London's Town & Country club, "Tanya kissed me, and I nearly fell over."
While the band will certainly soon be working on material for their next album, Greenwood says he prefers the road life. "Recording doesn't really excite me as much, not yet, anyway." The guys travel by bus in perfect harmony. "Four of us just sit in the back playing bridge for most of the journey and stuff like that," he says. "No exciting scandal." They've made a point of exploring the cities they visit, he says, and he "fell in love with" Chicago Seattle. But his favorite souvenir was from Israel, where he met his current girlfriend. "I'm very attached to [her]... She's staying with me right now."
So it would seem that these boys aren't such creeps after all. Anyway, notes Greenwood, the tune itself isn't necessarily negative. "It's not a bad thing to be, in some ways. Part of the song is about following the girl around and dying to be part of her kind of special group, but it's also about knowing what you are."
Picture Notes (Guitar Lingo)
"Jonny uses a Deluxe 85 solid-state amp for both stage and studio--with everything turned up to "10", of course. "He won't touch anything with tubes in it!" chortles Colin. In combination Red Lace Sensors on Jonny's Tele Plus it emits a distortion that's a couple of notches beyond nuclear."
"Like the classic simplicity of Colin's P-Bass grooves, Radiohead's debut album Pablo Honey marks a return to the studio techniques of yesteryear: "It was recorded in under three weeks!" he explains."