KID A

"How can Thom Yorke understand teenage angst when he doesn't even understand how to sing" was my first reaction to listening to the copy of "Kid A" I had taken out from the library. "At least I don't have to pay for it", was my second. Just like the thousands before me who got frustrated by the satanic evil compressed in a compact disc, "Kid A", I just threw the damn thing aside.

But by the second listen, I was confounded at my previous reaction. "Wow, there IS catchy stuff on this album" and "Hmm, I've heard worse whining on a contemporary Fray album, this guy ain't so bad" were two notable quotables going through my head after "Motion Picture Soundtrack" faded out, came in and again, twiddled about and faded out again. My third, fourth, and fifth listens, proved I had an obvious addiction to the trippy textures, quelling atmospheres, and occasionally hooky melodies that could only belong to this album.

Now, it doesn't help "Kid A" that Radiohead puts their most difficult and challenging (Read: Not actually bad, though) "experiments" in the album's foreground, and decided to shove anything that could be relatively (and I would like to put an emphasis on the word relatively) commercial on side two. The album opener, "Everything in its Right Place" is downright freaky. Listening to Yorke's illegible screaming and whining alongside what sounds like a twelve year old girl singing distorted and played in reverse is probably not the best way to hook in new fans and positively influence people, you know, like a good album opener. But after a while, one will notice that the somnolent electric piano line that moodily opens the song is soothing and "Holy god's lover's son, this song actually has a pretty good melody" when you ignore the jarring backwards vocals.

The title track gives us a wonderful portrayal of childhood innocence within in the music. Whenever I hear that childish but gentle, electric piano melody, I can't help but think nostalgic thoughts of life in the town I played in and explored as a child and live so far away from now. It's that one part that just makes the entire song a highlight for me. I also like how the blissful ambiance is suddenly cut apart by the roaring "The National Anthem" which I believe, has one of the quintessential indie bass riffs of all time. We also learn that Radiohead is not devoid of a rhythm section, which finally makes it's prolonged debut here. Some people can't stand those dissonant jazz horns that appear half way through the song but I think they represent a total mental decimation mighty fine.

Bleh, but you'd be surprised at what I find filler on this album. "How to Disappear Completely", may be the unadulterated, raffinated, quintessential teenage depression anthem in the critical and Radiohead fanatic (I believe the correct term is Radiohead head) opinion but I can't understand why. It's just moves far too slow and is way too shapeless, draggy and overlong. (Wow, I must be the weirdest Radiohead fan on earth or something to dislike this song.) "Motion Picture Soundtrack" is similarly limp and self-important and way too padded. The ballads for the most part suck on this here save the eerie mid tempo ballad "Morning Bell", which is less draggy than the other two.

Everything else, despite being mixed with dark ambient elements, possesses a distinct 90's smell of grunge and indie-rock of the highest quality. Well, except for the somber ambient instrumental, "Treefingers", which get this, was what I believed the best thing on the whole album the first time I heard it. Why? Because Yorke, didn't sing on it! Ahahaha! Still, it's a quality Eno-esque keyboard doodle and certainly sounds like the soundtrack for that ghostly, never world pictured at the bottom of the album's back cover. "Optimistic" and "Idioteque", the wisely chosen singles, sound like they were also recorded in a ghostly, negative world but somehow manage to be insanely catchy distorted indie rock and psychedelic hip hop, respectively. I also have a special place for "In Limbo" in my Radiohead pantheon which really breathes life into the phrase "Your living in a fantasy world" that Yorke mutters throughout the song.

There's something one should be aware of before delving into this certain album: It's hardly pretentious at all, once one becomes acquainted with it. Yeah, yeah, "Floyd of the 90's" and all the other ridiculously pompous praise the sugar daddying critics have stuck to this band but the record itself doesn't take anything in stride. If you just pretend that you're listening to a heavily inspired but obscure indie band, you'll never find them a disappointment.

And lastly, I have no idea where all the stupid Pink Floyd comparisons the critics draw up for this record are. The entire album sounds like a teenage angsty Can with dabs of Eno during the instrumental passages. When Yorke sings, he never emotes David Gilmour but rather an emo, guilt-ridden, teenage Damo Suzuki, in my mind. He always mantralizes the lyrics and quietly mutters some gibberish under them a la Can. So, all you Floyd heads who believe the what the all the critics say better develop a taste in krautrock before buying this little piggy along with "OK Computer" for 15$ apiece at Best Buy. Shop smartly at this reviewers request, please.

Album Grade: A-