Radiohead! Best band in the world. Yes, they are. No – they really, really are. But grandiose statements like this are nothing without evidence to back them up, so have a Youtube video:
While I mention Radiohead from time to time on here, I can’t remember writing a blog entry specifically about them. And that leads me to a confession: I find it very difficult to write about stuff that I could listen to or watch forever. The reasons behind this are many, but they mainly involve a sense of unease about potentially not living up to the material. Letting it down would be bad. I find music reviews to be mostly terrible, and often feel that they’re the worst kind of pretentious crap around. (Although Anthony Quinn’s film reviews for The Independent get a dishonourable mention here. Any film that isn’t (a) Romanian with subtitles, and (b) ten hours long with absolutely no toilet-friendly intermission, seems to be given a maximum of one star. Monsieur, wiz zis wankery d’arse, you are really spoiling uz…)
Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy reading the likes of Pitchfork et al, but often it seems like the writers are sponsored by Roget and are tapping away at their keyboards with old-fashioned smoking pipes in their mouths. Not with a knowing sense of irony, either, but because they actually believe that what they’re coming out with is in some way profound. Despite not actually understanding the meaning of half the words they write.
If you think I’m puffing out my chest and somehow proclaiming I’m superior, however, I’m really not. Indeed, any time the word “capricious” turns up anywhere, I have to consult a dictionary. Mental block ahoy! Instead, I just consider myself to be realistic in my assessment that I can’t write any words about Radiohead, or The Wire, or bacon, that could possibly do justice to the material. So while this remains the case, I’ll happily not try to explain exactly why I love them. Sometimes words aren’t enough. An occasional link, however, says everything it needs to.