Thursday, August 20, 2009

Radiohead Videos

From the terrifyingly theatrical to the utterly bizarre, the promo videos by British alt-rock standard bearers Radiohead are truly brilliant works of art that can stand very well on their own, even when divorced from their accompanying audio tracks. Here are some jaw-droppingly excellent examples of the short films that have made a forceful impact in the overall Radiohead scheme of things.


FAKE PLASTIC TREES (1995)



This restrained indictment of unbridled consumerism is visually realised in one of Radiohead's most subdued, understated clips. The most conspicuous thing about the video, however, is the almost Warholian play of colours that dominates throughout, providing a subtle counterpoint to the song's underlying message.


JUST (1995)



A man kneels and lies down on the street. Concerned passers-by stop to ask him if anything is the matter. The man refuses to tell, insisting that it's too terrible to disclose. The crowd persist in knowing anyway. "Yes I'll tell you, I'll tell you why I'm lying here...but God forgive me...and God help us all...because you don't know what you ask of me," the man finally blurts out (via the accompanying subtitles). The next thing you know, everyone is lying down on the street, just like him. One of the most subtly dystopian promos ever made.


STREET SPIRIT (1995)



One of Radiohead's most striking, evocative Goth-rock ballads gets a wholly appropriate nocturnal-themed video. This creepy clip was shot entirely in atmospheric black and white, and comprises a mélange of unnerving images and situations, all set in an eerie trailer park late at night. Perfect viewing to accompany those long, dark nights of the soul.


PARANOID ANDROID (1997)



A genuinely disturbing animated clip that features imagery of casual sadomasochism, dying junkies, severed limbs and deranged angels and mermaids. Definitely not one for the Nickelodeon crowd.


KARMA POLICE (1997)



An understated promo that has a subtle anti-establishment message, 'Karma Police' is set entirely within the confines of an empty moving car and on the road ahead. The man being chased could very well represent the oppressed everyman who, in the video's denouement, finally settles his scores with a shadowy, unnamed authority figure. Karmic irony has never looked better than on here.


PYRAMID SONG (2001)



This semi-animated promo is a purely CGI construct, featuring a stellar combination of computer-generated 3D imagery and traditional hand-drawn cell animation. The nautically themed clip follows the travails of a survivor of some unspecified global holocaust, as he dives into the depths of a radiation-wracked sea searching for his dead family. Strangely poignant and utterly moving.


KNIVES OUT (2001)



Arguably the most disquieting clip in the Radiohead video oeuvre, this remarkable one-take promo features decidedly surreal imagery, partly based on Salvador Dali's paintings. Almost indescribable and highly unsettling, this one has to be seen to be believed.


THERE THERE (2003)



Taking direct inspiration from Bjork's "Human Behaviour" promo from 1993, this environmental-themed clip displays, with a knowing, secret smile, what happens when you get lost in the woods and intrude upon the secret kingdom of the wild. Mother Nature finally gets her due here.

In Praise of King Crimson

Robert Fripp's ever shifting King Crimson collective is, without a doubt, the foremost and most accomplished purveyors of that often-misunderstood genre of rock called progressive rock. In stark contrast to the labyrinthine diversions of contemporaries like Yes, Jethro Tull and Genesis, King Crimson often brought an intuitive intelligence to their music, applying a decidedly cerebral approach and plenty of calculated firepower. Here are several stellar examples of the now-classic works that they have created throughout their forty-year existence in the industry.




IN THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING (1969)
The undisputed magnum opus of the band, and one of the true milestones of prog-rock. The textures on this album are varied and awe-inspiring: menacing Hendrixian freakouts and controlled post-bop craziness (the frighteningly explosive and efficient "21st Century Schizoid Man"), pastoral, lilting folk balladry ("I Talk to the Wind"), haunting, sinister medieval-influenced tonalities ("Epitaph") and theatrical, LSD-fuelled psychedelic rock ("The Court of the Crimson King"). In one word: breathtaking.




IN THE WAKE OF POSEIDON (1970)
This sophomore effort might suffer in comparison to its more illustrious predecessor, but many virtuosic moments still abound here. The dramatic title track aspires to the epic heights of "The Court of the Crimson King", and succeeds to a certain extent, while "Pictures of a City" is another scholarly rock-out in the vein of "21st Century Schizoid Man". Meanwhile, the melodic ballad "Cadence and Cascade" practically glows with restful blissfulness, while "The Devil's Triangle" is Fripp's appropriately sly take on Holst's "Mars" suite.




LIZARD (1971)
Arguably the most misunderstood work from the first incarnation of King Crimson, this jazz-informed endeavour bears a heavy Miles Davis influence, circa the "Sketches of Spain" era. The acknowledged highlight is the cinematic, gargantuan 23-minute title suite (divided into four mini-suites), a brilliant, mercurial study in shifting generic textures, but there are other favourites too, like the lovelorn, airily placid "Lady of the Dancing Water" (which could well be the prettiest ballad the band has ever done), the jerky, atonal "Happy Family" (an underhanded dig at the Fab Four), and the ominous LSD-nightmare tone poem "Cirkus".




RED (1975)
The most realised effort from the mid-70s King Crimson line-up, renowned for their mind-expanding improvisatory instrumental jams. The lack of coherent melodic structures and the intentionally complicated production values might be cause for concern for some old-school fans, but on the plus side, it does possess tight, focused songwriting and intensely purposeful performances. The title track is a cacophonous but still melodic tour de force that compellingly displays Fripp’s one-of-a-kind tri-tone guitar-riffing method, while ‘Fallen Angel’ is an expansive six-minute ballad that abounds with lots of interesting sonic details. The indisputable standout has to be the 12-minute epic ‘Starless’, a carefully crafted, multi-segmented showcase that seems to incorporate everything that contributes to King Crimson’s majestic artistry.




DISCIPLINE (1981)
The most cohesive effort from the 1980s manifestation of the band has guitarist extraordinaire Adrian Belew bringing a welcome new-wave sensibility to the proceedings. The excellently paced title track is the unquestioned progenitor of all math-rock, the herky-jerky, madcap "Elephant Talk" brings to mind a more insightful Talking Heads, the overlapping, interlocking grooves of "Frame by Frame" is as dense as dense can be, and the brutal "Indiscipline" is King Crimson's cleverly sardonic take on heavy metal.




THRAK (1995)
Fripp assembled an innovative six-man, double-trio format for this newest line-up of King Crimson, bringing an immensely powerful, new-millennium aesthetic to a tried and tested genre. The sheer, overpowering, take-no-prisoners dynamism of "Dinosaur" will overwhelm first-time listeners, while "B'Boom" is a terrifyingly precise drums-and-percussion duel, and "Walking on Air" and "One Time" are brooding, sweeping ballads that prove that this new formation has its relatively sensitive side too.

Starfish



Veteran Goth-rockers The Church have never been more commercially successful than they were in the late 1980s, when they shifted temporarily to the decidedly alien surroundings of Los Angeles to lay down tracks for what would become the 'Starfish' album from 1988. Up to that point, the outfit had only tasted cult success in their native Australia and a few other limited markets, with a handful of modestly charting singles that consolidated their reputations as competent exponents of psychedelic rock. However, it was 'Starfish' that constituted their real breakthrough in the all-important American market, managing to reach the Billboard Top 40, with the lead single 'Under the Milky Way' creeping into the Top 20.

'Starfish' also marked a noticeable change in the band's basic sound, moving from their usual jangly-guitar template to a wider canvas of various sonic colours and wide-screen production values. The band also tightened their songwriting focus, laying some of their most engrossing and engaging tunes on record, a discernible break from the hazier textures of their preceding efforts. This translates into a wonderfully dynamic and resonant record that successfully bridges the gap between critical acclaim and commercial achievement, while greatly improving the band's creative sensibilities.

'Starfish' opens with the expansive 'Destination', which detailed a disquieting journey through a harsh and surreal landscape. 'Destination' also helped to set the pace for the rest of the album, which seemed to be a musical travelogue of the band's American sojourn. But it was the next number that was the indisputable highlight, the uneasily dreamy but highly atmospheric 'Under the Milky Way' (complete with a synthesised bagpipe solo as a middle-eight). This well-constructed and elegant tune was a surprise entry into the American Top 40, and remained The Church's signature song.

The rest of 'Starfish' doesn't let up for a minute. The quietly menacing 'Blood Money' practically brimmed with cunningly concealed venom, while the assuredly charging rocker 'North, South, East and West' showed off the band's electric-guitar riffing skills to considerable effect. 'Reptile' was another standout, being as sinuous and snaky as the title suggested. Rhythm guitarist Peter Koppes laid down a rhythm-guitar riff that slithered stealthily, punctuated by lead guitarist Marty Willson-Piper's quick lead-guitar stabs, which sounded like the musical equivalent of a serpent's bite.

Elsewhere, 'Antenna' was a sea-shanty guitar waltz that danced along at a stately pace, while the whimsical 'A New Season' is a mid-tempo number with wailing seagull-guitar effects. The closing 'Hotel Womb' was another winner, a confident rocker garnished with ringing guitar riffs and carefully modulated synth effects that detailed the end of the journey started in 'Destination'.

It's no overstatement to say that 'Starfish' has truly stood the test of time, even more than 20 years after its initial release. The performances here are uniformly excellent, and the band has never sounded more artistically confident than on here. Truly the work of a band at the virtual height of its powers, and arguably the Church's most commercially realised record.

The Joshua Tree



Has there been a more representative record of the quintessential U2 sound than the iconic ‘The Joshua Tree’ from 1987? While some quarters might argue that 1991’s ‘Achtung Baby’ takes the crown as the Irish rock giants’ most innovative and groundbreaking album, there is no denying the fact that it was ‘The Joshua Tree’ that really put their name on the map, through its meticulously epic production values (courtesy of veteran studio hands Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois), straight-from-the-heart, mature songwriting and brilliantly realised playing from all four members. And put their name on the map it did, becoming chart-toppers in every market imaginable, selling a massive 25 million copies worldwide, and garnering the much-coveted Album of the Year honour at the Grammy Awards in 1988 (back when the Grammies still mattered as real indicators of artistic achievement).

It was on ‘The Joshua Tree’ that U2 genuinely took their musical love affair with America seriously, incorporating choice elements of folk, blues, country and gospel into their basic pop-rock template. Earlier albums like ‘War’ and ‘The Unforgettable Fire’ had seen the band dabbling in the abovementioned, distinctly American musical forms, but it was on ‘The Joshua Tree’ that the band, with the help of Eno and Lanois, streamlined and expanded the textures, and adopted a more anthemic, earnest approach. This inevitably resulted in an album that has absolutely no other sonic parallel in U2’s vast catalogue, even when measured against the bold dance-rock and Euro-electro patterns of ‘Achtung Baby’.

‘The Joshua Tree’ couldn’t ask for a more perfect opener than the breathtakingly widescreen, intensely cinematic ‘Where the Streets Have No Name’, surely one of the all-time great opening tracks of any album ever. A few bars of slightly ominous organ chords eventually give way to The Edge’s familiar guitar arpeggios, blossoming into a veritable wall of sound that is anchored by Adam Calyton’s trenchant bass line and Larry Mullen’s instinctive drumming. Bono has also rarely given a more virtuosic performance here, with an astonishing number of vocal timbres spread out across its five-and-a-half-minute structure.

The following ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’ (a number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart) is a different beast altogether, a soaring, gospel-inspired number that bristles with The Edge’s restless, jangly guitar overdubs. Here, Bono’s voice practically crackles with spiritual yearning, with matching search-for-salvation lyrics to boot. However, the subsequent ‘With or Without You’ (another Billboard number one) is a study in contrast with the rousing structure of ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’, a moody, bass-anchored humdinger that could well be U2’s equivalent of any of notorious reclusive Scott Walker’s chamber-pop set pieces. It also illustrates one of the best instances of The Edge’s use of the difficult Infinite Guitar, a device that allows a guitar note to be sustained indefinitely.

‘Bullet the Blue Sky’ is arguably the most strident number on ‘The Joshua Tree’, a muscular, menacing denunciation of the Reagan administration’s military interventions in Central America, marked by a basic but powerful drumbeat, screeching guitar slides and snarling, admonitory vocals. ‘Running to Stand Still’ provides a breather of sorts from the relative sturm and drang of the preceding tracks, a reflective, folk-influenced elegy for a heroin addict enhanced by some ruminative slide-guitar runs and thoughtful synth chords.

‘The Joshua Tree’ then goes into topical mode again with ‘Red Hill Mining Town’, a sympathetic portrait of the 1984 British miners’ strike brought about by the union-breaking tactics of the Thatcher administration. ‘In God’s Country’ is a rollicking, country-informed foot-stomper that wryly describes the contemporary cultural landscape of America, while ‘Trip Through Your Wires’ is a blues-based, swaying melody that is fired by Bono’s surprisingly competent harmonica riffs.

Elsewhere, the towering, brooding ‘One Tree Hill’ easily takes the prize as the album’s most emotional moment, a heartfelt eulogy for the late Greg Carroll, Bono’s personal assistant and a close friend of the band, killed in a recent road accident. This is followed by the severely bleak, coldly forbidding ‘Exit’, a wildly crescendoing track about a serial killer haunted by psychotic delusions and traumatic memories, possibly the least accessible song on the album. Things are brought to an appropriate close by the tear-jerking ‘Mothers of the Disappeared’, a cheerless, overcast tribute to the thousands of victims of the 1970s military coups in Argentina.

In short, any self-respecting rock aficionado should count ‘The Joshua Tree’ amongst his of her collection of classic rock records, if only for its sheer historical value. Simultaneously a useful lesson in atmospheric creative sonics and an all-out great rock album, ‘The Joshua Tree’ has never been bettered or improved by anything U2 has released since then.