Thursday, July 20, 2023

radiohead + insomnia

 Can't sleep? Neither can Radiohead. 

(Thank you to Kurt and Jam for helping me source these quotes!)

(Time Out Magazine, March 13 1995)

Nice Dream sounded very different to what it did when you first started doing it live towards the end of 93. As if the mood in your camp subsequent to that took the wind out of it.

Thom: Totally, I’m sure that air of sleepiness won't be on the next album at all There was this sort of picture of us crawling around, trying to stand up to playing something but having no energy. Being picked off the floor, basically. Nice Dream was written in two places, in a basement flat that I lived in and it was finished off later. The lyrics were written in one of those fucking sad, half-formed ways. I was singing them half asleep and when I get drunk, or whatever, I usually find that I don’t get hangovers. I just don’t sleep at all, I just go into a sort of coma and come out, but my head goes round and round through for hours. The lyric refers to a story of Kurt Vonnegut where this crystal’s been found that turns all water completely solid and someone drops it in the sea. And if you want to kill yourself, you just put your finger in the water. So there’s this image of all these people, just turned into statues.

(NME, May 27th 1995)

Thom: "Yeah, the food's revolting but it's a relief to be in Europe again. We had this promo thing in America recently where we were living through pure fucking hell on an average of three hours' sleep a night. We were doing a gig at midnight to 100 people who didn't give a fuck for some radio station who didn't give a fuck, getting to bed at three, getting on a plane at six, getting to the next destination, doing a day of interviews, getting to the soundcheck, something to eat, back onstage at midnight..." His voice trails off in horror as he pushes his slop around the plate in front of him.

"Five nights in a row, man. And people wonder why you moan! The only reason that people could give me for not going home was that in five years' time we might be lucky to find anyone to talk to us.

(Slitz, ~June 1995)

Colin and Phil are opposites. Colin is the only one in the band who is single. He is hyperactive and suffers from insomnia. In the taxi-limo to the Palladium he devotes two minutes to explain how convenient it is with electronic windowpane openers. Little brother Jonny gets tired of him first and asks him to shut up.


COLIN GREENWOOD POTTERS ABOUT HIS FARMHOUSE kitchen, making tea and crumpets for everyone. He wears a tatty green gardening jumper, intermittently, he makes vague and disinterested attempts to wash up. Colin is regarded as the rock’n’roll element of Radiohead.

When he was younger he used to wear make-up and sneak off to Alien Sex Fiend and Fall concerts, and sleep on station benches. After his degree, for nine months before the band were signed, he worked in Our Price to broaden his musical knowledge. He’s also considered to be “frighteningly intelligent” by both Phil and Thom. He did his thesis on the writing of Raymond Carver. The victim of an over-active mind, he suffers greatly from insomnia.

“I suppose I’m the most gregarious member of the band because I don’t like spending time alone. I like having meals with friends and staying up late drinking. Hardly rock ‘n’ roll. But what is? Pissing in hotel rooms? Doing cocaine? I used to share a room with Ed on tour until he refused to, I kept on waking him up at all hours of the morning. So I had a room to myself, which was a shame because Ed’s very entertaining. He talks in his sleep – actually it’s more like sleep shouting. He starts having conversations that you just wish you could hear the other half of. He sometimes does accents too. He once came out with this thick Irish brogue, started shouting ‘HELP! THE BUILDING’S ON FIRE... AND TERRY WOGAN’S UP THERE’. It was hilarious.”


"It was like that typical Radiohead thing, things had been brewing," Ed continues. "We're not really confrontational with another. Things had been brewing and they basically came to a head. We were all completely knackered on this Mexican tour bus, 12 of us, with six bunks and they were about 5ft 6inches long, so you're getting no sleep. It was just ridiculous."


Thom: I used to have this one car, and I very nearly killed myself in it one morning, and gave my girlfriend at the time really bad whiplash in an accident. I was 17. Hadn't slept the night before. 


one of our friends spills a glass of wine over a vacuum packed gucci outfit complete with matching white hand bag. the witch goes crazy, we think it is fuunny. until we see the evil in her eyes. m friend is asked to leave. the gucci creature is the closest thing i have seen to the devil. the woman is possessed. i cannot sleep that night asking what we've got our selves into.


On all the other tracks, however, there's a claustrophobia that flickers and burns; spectral pressure that bends the metallic guitar-lines into wrought iron. "There was a very odd presence in the house we were recording in," Yorke says, his eyes careful neutral. "I just didn't sleep at all. I started seeing things, hearing things. There was a very claustrophobic ghost in the house... I mean, we made jokes about it, but there was fear everywhere, coming out of the walls and floors. It took me by the ankles and shook me until there was nothing left." He laughs. "There was really horrible wallpaper in my room. Maybe it was just that and my imagination."


Oxfordshire 1996, and Radiohead finally begin to record the follow-up to 'The Bends'. Thom Yorke's brain is accelerating. The aforementioned view amplified by the conditions in which he's working. Recording at night, he goes to bed at dawn and wakes at ten to continue the lyrics. His state of mind is sleepless and fractured. Nerve endings are frayed and the atmosphere is intense.


Dave: "OK, so you were telling me about this house, one of Henry's wives dying in childbirth or something... etc., I mean when you came back from the madness of the tour, what was the feel like in a place like that? Was it a happy feeling, or a tranquil feeling, or a scary feeling- I mean you certainly mentioned ghosts in the machine, there was something going on-

Jonny: "Yeah, yeah, there was!

Dave: "It was kind of scary?

Thom: "It was... well he's the sceptic and I'm not, and we joked about it for the first few weeks. I think old places, old stones, they remember things, you know? But none of us saw anything or anything like that. They had nights, most nights I tried to stay up until dawn, I couldn't sleep. That was probably me being paranoid... well maybe it wasn't... I tried going to bed stone-cold sober and it didn't help... it was scary.

Jonny: "I think that's why the songs are all that tempo... Thom kept us awake shouting every night, because he couldn't sleep.

(Les Inrockuptibles #110, June 25th 1997; translated from French)

Thom: Sometimes I'd like to think that the band's musical freedom is also my own. That I've become strong and independent enough to dictate my own rules of life. Unfortunately, I'm aware that I'm prisoner to Radiohead. My body and soul are totally dependent on the band and our music, and I can't live without them. I only have one obligation in life, and that's to serve Radiohead, but it's eating up my whole life... During the recording of OK Computer, there were entire nights when I couldn't sleep, when I was too obsessed with my songs to fall asleep. I'd have to get drunk and pass out at around 6 in the morning... I don't feel like a free man. The freedom I gained was quickly taken away by the band and today I live like an obsessed, neurotic person.
 

Thom: "We recorded a lot through the night, getting up at five in the afternoon and working until 6am. But then I was getting up at 10am to write the words. Sometimes."


are you paranoid in your sleep?

i am paranoid about looslng time and those i love in my sleep.
i get razors lodged in my skull when i am asleep.
no. i can usually hear what people are saying in my sleep though, you have the ablity to hear many things at once in dreams dont you? i have tile ability to see through people when im asleep, something i dont havenormally. but occasionally this becomes too much to take.


Your lyrics and your music are both complex and delicate. Aren't you scared of all the huge success that you are experiencing?

Thom: Every day, when I wake up, I try not to be intimidated by the weird things going on around us. When we finished the record, I didn't sleep for a week. I kept saying to myself "My god, what have we done". I didn't expect such a success. 


So sequencing the album tracks was difficult?

That would be an understatement. I got one of those MiniDiscs where you can change the sequence, which was fatal. I was going to sleep at two and getting up at five, because I'd have a sequence in my head. I'd programme it into my MiniDisc and make tapes for everybody, and send them out, and they'd go, 'Thanks very much, Thom.' And then another one - 'Thanks very much, Thom' And they didn't listen to any of them, cos they knew I'd fucking lost it.


Thom: "In retrospect, The Bends had a very obvious and comforting resolution, which was by accident, not by design. But this one didn't. For two weeks before mastering the record and deciding which songs would go on it, I got up every morning at 5am; I've got one of those minidisc machines where you can swap the order of the tracks, take tracks off, put them back on. I couldn't find the resolution that I was expecting to hear once you put the songs together, and I just went into a wild panic for two weeks. I couldn't sleep at all, because I just expected the resolution to be there - and it wasn't. There was all the trouble and no resolution. But that wasn't really true, as I discovered later. When we chose to put 'Tourist' at the end, and I chilled out about it and stopped getting up at five in the morning and driving myself nuts, we did find that it was the only resolution for us - because a lot of the album was about background noise and everything moving too fast and not being able to keep up.


Thom: "Err yeah, it's out of the box... where was I? Oh yeah, the words... but actually the words were supposed to to be basically all the things that actually keep me awake at night, you know, you see I can't sleep at the moment."

Steve: "Yeah."

Thom: "Well these were the things... each line in this song, they're the lines that kept me awake at night for about a month."


Thom: "...[So] I filled up a whole MiniDisc of stuff, of songs and half-formed ramblings or whatever. And then there's a lightning strike and it wiped it all. And I was really upset, because there was really good stuff on it. But that was the general vibe of the house at the time, so I didn't think any of it. Then I forgot it, and six months later, I was in an airplane coming back from Japan or something and I didn't sleep at all. I hadn't slept for ages and ages. Suddenly, I was lying there, and I'd forgotten all the stuff from the MiniDisc, and 'Morning Bell' just came back to me, exactly as I had written it, with all the words and everything. It sounds like it's about a breakup, but it's really not. It's about being in this house. So there you go. You know, things are never that direct with me, unfortunately."


Thom: "It's very, very violent. Extremely violent. The really weird thing about that was I wrote the song with all the words pretty much straight away, which is basically the only one I did that with. I recorded it onto MiniDisc and then there was a lightning storm, and it wiped the MiniDisc and I lost the song. I completely forgot it. Then five months later, I was on a plane, knackered for 24 hours, I was just falling asleep, and I remembered it. It was really weird, I never had that before. It's gone in and took a long time to come out again. The lyrics are really... they're not as dramatic as they sound, you know? Except 'cut the kids in half', which is dramatic no matter which way you read it."


And Yorke, compact, busy, ever so slightly intimidating (is it his drooping eyes, or is he actually angry?), moves lightly in big boots. He’s laughing about the band’s hotel: “We arrived there, 8 in the morning, on three hours’ sleep, and it was like a country club, just heaving with golfers in Pringle sweaters. I took one look and went, ‘Nooooo!’”


THE BIG QUESTION, perhaps, is whether Yorke can play Edvard Munch’s screaming ghoul for much longer. He admits that having Noah has changed him. Getting up after three hours sleep and dealing with a child’s needs have brought him a welcome sense of what’s really important. Noah doesn’t even know what his dad does for a living, he says.


Thom: "(laughs) Umm... We stopped about two and a half years ago, the band I'm in called Radiohead." After the completion of the year-long Hail to the Thief tour, they had flown the 'wrong way round the world', east to west. 'You're not built to do that. It just spun our heads out, man. I don't think anybody really slept for, like, three, four weeks. So that level of sleep deprivation and doing these big shows under lot of pressure... It was just messed up.'

[...]

Thom: "The most sort of fundamental bit of that tune for me is the idea of 'a million engines in neutral'. You know, if you sit in a Tokyo traffic jam, you can't help thinking that perhaps this isn't the best way to proceed... (laughs) And it was written... the initial musical ideas were written in a sleepless night in New York where it absolutely chunked down rain the size of tennis balls all night long. And just listening to that sound all night long with my laptop and not being able to sleep... it sort of came from that..."


Thom Yorke: ...from Channel 4 News in Britain, and he said, "Well, what are you doing personally?" And I'd been up since 7 o'clock and I'd only had three hours sleep, so I said, "Not enough." And it was one of those really awful TV moments where it's silent.


Nick Kent: What exactly has been going on with you and Radiohead over the past two and a half years?
Thom Yorke: We needed to stop- properly stop-for a number of reasons. I wanted to make this record [The Eraser]. It was something I just had to get stuck in. I needed to do something on my own for a bit. There were lots of 'imminent bursts' going on [within the band]. It all just ended on a really weird note. We did this last bout of touring [in April/May'04] that fucked our heads up really badly. We flew the wrong way round the world: we went from Japan to Australia to California and ended up so jet-lagged, we never actually slept. Basically it was three or four weeks of constant sleep deprivation and illness. It was just shite. That tour was our last obligation and... it had stopped being fun. After that, everybody just disappeared. I still saw Colin a lot but everyone else was off on their own, forgetting about it.


THE FLIGHT LAST night was torturous. He didn't sleep—he never sleeps, in fact, no matter what he tries. The herbal pills shut down his body but not his brain, and melatonin gives him wide-awake nightmares that he dubs "the horrors." Sometimes he works on songs on his laptop, but usually, by the time he's halfway through the air, Thom Yorke is silently freaking out. But this morning he woke up, put on a Björk tune, and got a massage. 


Steve: "Has becoming a dad for a second time or - obviously watching now the two youngsters grow up - did that effect some lyrically your new album, at all? 'Cause it played into the first one. 'Analyse'..."

Thom: "It always, you know... it's part of, a big part of my life, obviously. I still feel kind of uncomfortable talking about it, just because it's... on the one hand it seems to be the one thing one shouldn't discuss, a) being a man, which I have a problem with anyway, 'cause that's just downright sexist, and b) that it's the most un-rock'n'roll thing, so you should just pretend that you're not a dad, which is what most people seem to do, which I also think's deeply unhealthy. So I guess I will talk about it, because of that. But it does make me feel uncomfortable. Whether it was a formal part of this record... obviously, yeah, I think, not least of which, because of the context of sort of getting involved in Friends Of The Earth and like a lot of people becoming aware of the global warming thing. Obviously you're suddenly presented with a finite... the concept of a finite future. Much as actually we were when we grew up, 'cause we were presented with the concept of the bomb, you know? And grew up with this bizarre scenario. Remember that... what was the name of that movie? Was it.... umm..."

Steve: "I can't remember, it was shown in all the schools..."

Thom: "Yeah, it traumatised us all."

Steve: "Absolutely, it was basically the nuclear bomb was dropped and this is literally the fallout from it."

Thom: "Yeah..."

Steve "It terrified everyone, everyone had nightmares after that."

Thom: "Rather than actually being a threat, this is a reality and it's just a debate about when it occurs and how it happens. So, I don't think it would be too personal to say I didn't sleep very much for a few months until I sort of worked out a way of dealing with it, and one of the ways of dealing with it was to put it into this record."


Thom: For me that was the main inspiration on doing The Eraser thing. It was just finding my way around all this stuff... that you know... I was coming to pretty cold. I was having to learn pretty fast quite a lot of it. 'Cause I didn’t actually... I think I only really started throwing myself into learning about sequences in 2000. Before that I’d never really gone anywhere near them. 

In terms of inspiration, I don’t know. I was... it was doing it for me in a way, you know. A lot of it was fragments that where then assembled. Bits and pieces and random stuff that I would just knock off if I couldn’t sleep in the middle of night... and then somewhere within the midst of that there would be 4 bars and I’d be like..."ooh, hello, what’s this?"


Michael: "'94? When you were making The Bends?"

Ed: "Yeah. It was... that whole time was painful. The record we were trying to make, where we were moving, and I think Mexico brought it all out because we were getting less sleep, we had less sleep, and we were tired. And we'd just been in Thailand..."


Gilles: Low End Theory... How was that?

Thom: I did it twice. The first time, they announced it and I hadn't slept for three days, I was having a bad insomnia thing. And Flying Lotus sort of arranged it and I sort of tried to bail out of it. He sent me pictures of the queue outside. And I thought I'd better not [bail out], cuz there'd be a riot. And it was great.


Besides, this idea that ‘Paranoid Android’ was intended as a joke — a sozzled attempt to rewrite Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ - doesn’t quite tally with Yorke’s own of account of how he wrote the lyrics. They came to him at 5am following a hateful night out among coked-up music biz types in Los Angeles.
“I was trying to sleep when I literally heard these voices that wouldn’t leave me alone," he recalled, back in 1997. “Basically, [‘Paranoid Android’] is just about chaos, chaos, utter fucking chaos.”

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

thom and driving

Yes, we went over Thom's car ownership history. but even better is taking a closer look at Thom's thoughts on cars, and how they've changed with the years...

(because RH has so many car-centric lyrics, I'm just going to have two sections; one for songs, the next for quotes. Many thanks to citizeninsane.eu; much of these quotes were already compiled in the info pages for songs like Airbag and Killer Cars.)

 (ADDENDUM: this post now has an images section dedicated to car imagery on the Radiohead sites.)

Songs

Stupid Car, 1992

Killer Cars, 1994

Airbag, 1997

Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box, 2001

Kinetic, 2001

Bending Hectic, 2023


Quotes


"Pop culture will always exist," Thom continues, squinting at the sun. "What I was thinking about when I wrote ’Pop Is Dead’ is that pop music has a very marginal part to plan in pop culture. So that whereas you had programmes like 'The Tube’ and 'Whistle Test’ that were purely music based, you've now got 'The Word’. That says it all."
What do you mean? Lots of people watch 'The Word’. Doesn't that indicate some kind of success?
"Not really," sighs Thom. "People like to watch car crashes as well. The producers of 'The Word’ are delighted because it's the most talked-about programme in the country As if that's a criterion for success. People should be talking about 'The Word’ because it's good"


Thom: "This is a song I wrote recently, called killer cars. This is a song about waking up one morning, convinced that, err, my partner had been killed in a car accident. You know, it's one of those dreams where you're totally convinced it's happened. This is all the cheery guy I am."


Thom's got into books so intensely that he becomes completely wired by them. When Radiohead were mixing their new songs at Abbey Road recently, they were commuting a lot along London's Westway. Thom was reading JG Ballard's 'Crash' — about the sexuality of cars mashing each other up, and «the million ways that a gear stick can damage a woman's womb». He was crapping himself. 


"There was a summons", he begins, "it felt like that. I was at university. You have been chosen to attend The Greatest Party Ever, held by, erm, this guy. All meet at such and such a place. Bring a sleeping bag. So I toddled along, breathlessly, anticipation building, and met a fair-sized crowd. The agenda was carefully set. We all had to get in this car, and let it roll down a hill with the lights on. I think there were a few crashes. Then we built huge fires to see by, as it was right at this point, and starting taking the car apart, and made musical instruments out of the various components. With what was left of the car, we made a huge Chinese dragon, which we danced around in. These shamanic drumbeats started up from somewhere, and we all started twitching and gyrating until daybreak. It was pretty pagan. Then we crashed out in the open in our sleeping bags, and I was awoken at 7 am by the smell of bacon and some loon with a megaphone shouting "Wake up ! Time to die !". That was pretty cool".


If you were the prime minister what's the first thing you'd do?
Ban all cars. I do own a car, but only cos I have to. Public transport is the only answer. I'd also electronic hate mail for Jacques Chirac and that Milosevic bloke, and try to expel the USA from the UN, because the UN ceased to be any use since they decided it was all theirs. I'm sure they would be able to veto it, but its worth a try.


Thom: Oh, OK. Why are there so many references to cars? Well, I'll tell you why. It's because when I was younger, my parents moved to this house, which was a long long way from Oxford, and I was just at the age where I wanted to go out the whole time. I used to have this one car, and I very nearly killed myself in it one morning, and gave my girlfriend at the time really bad whiplash in an accident. I was 17. Hadn't slept the night before. Anyway, eventually, my dad bought me another car, a Morris Minor, you know, and when you drove around corners in it, the driver door used to fly open. Um, and I'd only do 50 miles an hour, and on the road that went from my house to Oxford, there was fucking maniacs all the time, people who would drive 100 miles an hour to work, and I was in the Morris Minor, and it was like standing in the middle of the road with no protection at all. So I just gradually became emotionally tied up in this whole thing.


Yorke's interest in gruesome subject matter surfaces on other songs on the record as well, but the references are rarely gratuitous. "I've been in two accidents myself. One was serious, and I could have died. I was really young, and I had just got a car and spun it off the road, and was very near to being hit by two other cars coming the other way. I missed them by inches. Then you have that thing where you walk away from the car and you just ask yourself, 'Well, why am I lucky? Why am I allowed to walk away from this?' when you constantly hear of friends who die in car accidents for no reason. It fucks with my head completely. The day we have to stop getting in cars will be a very good day."

Whether he's talking about accidents, religion, or politics, Yorke's wisdom is generally unconventional. He seems to believe that the world is populated primarily by deaf, dumb, and blind sheep who lack the willpower to decide anything for themselves, and eagerly lop up the useless absurdity fed to them by the powers that be. "So much of the public's perception revolves around illusion," he says. "That's what 'Airbag' is about, the illusion of safety. In reality, airbags don't really work and they go off at random." Yorke straightens up in his seat and becomes progressively more emotional. "It's exactly the same as when you're on a plane. Everyone should really sit backwards. It's the safest way possible to face the back of the plane as you take of. But because people don't like the idea, and they feel a bit sick, airplanes have always been done the other way around, which is fucked. Anyway, if you're plummeting down to earth at 1,000 miles per hour, there's no way you're going to stand a hope if you sit there with your head between your legs with your seatbelt on. In the end, we're all just fucking bits of meat."


Thom: "Has an airbag saved my life? Nah...but I tell you something, every time you have a near accident, instead of just sighing and carrying on, you should pull over, get out of the car and run down the street screaming, 'I'm BACK! I'm ALIVE! My life has started again today!'. In fact, you should do that every time you get out of a car. We're just riding on those things - we're not really in control of them."


Key Lyric: "In a jack-knifed juggernaut, I am born again."
Thom: "Airbags go off spontaneously, so researchers claim. I think that's a cool judgement, don't you? Driving along in your Mercedes."
Colin: "They're actually quite dangerous things. They can kill."
Ed: "What would you know about it? You can't even drive!"


Airbag: "It's about fear of machinery and is very ambivalent. It's a song for luddites, but it's also very hopeful. Like, we aren't scared. Life goes on everywhere, even in a neon sign."

[...]

Lucky: "Maybe all the machinery like aeroplanes and cars, etc, function because of collective will. There is no way it would get off the ground or move forward otherwise."
 
 
But as with much of the album, concerns soon return to the feeling of powerlessness many feel in an age dominated by computers, global conglomerates and media-induced shallowness. "Exit Music" is a suicide tale, "Let Down" tells of "disappointed people...crushed like a bug on the ground," while "Airbag" seems to describe an alien crash-landing to earth. "To actually start singing about aliens is a very charged image," says Yorke, pausing to stare out the window into Manhattan rush hour traffic. "For me, all the crap TV shows, like X-Files, are symptomatic of people trying to find angels. The crash thing is me obsessing about the idea that when we get in a car or a plane we don't know if we're going to get out again. You're constantly aware of your own death, man. [laughs] It represents the emotional, psychological limbo that we're in all the time. You get in a car thinking you're safe, yet you're this far away from hurtling around a corner and having a juggernaut slam into you."

(Details Magazine, September 1997; no link, source attached)

It's five minutes after midnight in Cambridgeshire, England, some three hours north of London, and Thom Yorke is standing in the middle of an empty field. Five seven, rail thin, and balding rapidly, Yorke is an unlikely rock star; save for his leather jacket and Pan-Cake makeup, the lead singer of Radiohead looks more like a monk from the local cathedral. Suddenly, a pair of headlights appear in the fog. A big Chrysler New Yorker pulls up beside Yorke. Shivering, he slides into the backseat. Then the driver gets out and leaves him alone in the still-idling vehicle. "A car driving itself," Yorke says with a shrug. "Story of my life."

[...]

Yorke's nailed the take, but now there's a new problem: Fumes from the engine are irritating the singer's lungs. "You can smell it, can't you?" the soundman says. A technician pokes his head into the vehicle: "Smell it? You can see it! " The British press have long pegged Yorke as a solitary, tortured soul, but neither of these qualities is evident during this long, cold night. A slightly dazed Yorke appears unconcerned. "Ah, well," he says, "at least I'll be warm when I die."


But the bus is survivable?
Yes. Although, every time it judders it reminds me you're asleep in a sort of coffin. Last night I was having visions of how you could be asleep and drive off a cliff and not even wake up.

Is Airbag off OK Computer about that kind of feeling?
Mmm, Airbag is more about the idea that whenever you go out on the road you could be killed. Every age has its crazy idiosyncracies, crazy double-think. To me, for our era it's cars. I always get told off for being obsessed about it, but every time I get in my car I have to say to myself that I might never get out again. Or I might get out but I won't be able to walk.

That's a very, uh, acute awareness.
I suppose it just comes from being a worrier. But Airbag is also about how, the way I've been brought up and most of us are brought up, we are never given time to think about our own death.
In fact everything you do stems from trying to offset that fear with the idea of immortality. Especially doing what I do. If you're a pop star, all you're trying to do is search for immortality. Or that's the cliche at least. Yet you're constantly a knife-edge away from being killed in a car accident. (Smiles) It's great!

[...]

My mother has always said that I was a very quiet, happy kid who just worked all the time. Using my hands. Building stuff out of Lego, taking care of my bike - I was obsessed with my bike - designing and drawing cars. Then when I discovered rock'n'roll it was designing and drawing guitars.


After the band's performance at L.A.'s Wiltern Theater the following evening, Yorke jumps into a car and crawls into the back, slouching down low. "You're probably going to be followed", he informs the driver. "You know how to lose people, don't you?"


‘Nothing scares me more than driving,’ he explains, ‘I hate it. With a fucking passion. I hate it because it’s the most dangerous thing you do in your life. And because driving up the M4, half the people have got their mobile phones on when they’re driving. It’s like you’re forced to play fucking Russian Roulette every time you have to travel somewhere. Your average expensive fast German car gives you the idea that you can’t die. And that’s a fraud. Really, when you think about it, every time you get home, you should run down the street screaming “I’M BACK! I’M ALIVE”.’


When you were explaining some of the things you were singing about on 'OK Computer', you talked about surveying the headlines and feeling wildly impotent, and a deep frustration with the political system. Since when we've had a mild cultural evolution...

Do you mean the Labour Party? [loud mocking laughter] For three hours when the Labour Party got in, people were nice to each other. That was it. It's been bullshit ever since. I didn't watch it happening. It was so obvious they were going to win. I won't be going to 10 Downing Street, put it that way.
What was far more important was the Princess Di thing. That was when the people got to see the people. People got to see themselves grieving. This woman had died in a car accident, and she was quite famous, but that's not really what was going on, I don't think.

It didn't really affect me at all - people die in car accidents every day. She just happens to be famous and unfortunate. But what was shocking was seeing all those people lined up along the motorway, and people in the Hyde Park crying their eyes out.
 
 
Life has been like this for Yorke: His problems have become his strengths, his obsessions have fed his repulsions, and his fears have inspired his music. We're on this train because Yorke hates to fly, and he's positively terrified of cars. Just yesterday, someone asked him why he has written so many songs about car crashes. This was Yorke's answer: "I just think that people get up too early to leave houses where they don't want to live, to drive to jobs where they don't want to be, in one of the most dangerous forms of transport on earth. I've just never gotten used to that."

Of course, because of his job, Yorke has to ride around in cars all the time. He even got inside one with a remote-control driver to shoot the video for Radiohead's latest single, "Karma Police." And as he sat in the backseat, lip synching, something went wrong, and carbon monoxide fumes began pouring into the car. Yorke was terrified. And as he started to feel faint, he thought, "This is my life...." 


As to lyrical content, Yorke did concede to Q that autobiography enters into Airbag and Lucky. They touch on his morbid fear of car or plane crashes, while also apparently asserting a cheery faith that he would emerge unscathed. 


Thom: "I think it’s going to have to be this one. This is Neu!... (says "Neu!" a few times in silly voice)... anyway German accent. First track. I don’t even know what it’s called now. It’s the first track on the Neu!, you’ll know the one... ah here we go. Okay, this is one we just listened to constantly when we were on tour in Europe. It has a very strange effect, I mean if you are listening to this in a car, and you are driving along fast, you should turn this really up as loud as it possibly goes, even so it’s distorting. It’s called Hallogallo and it’s ten minutes long."
 
 
Thom: That's what the "I am born again' lyric was about in "Airbag," was me lifting all the things that I simply can't handle day to day, you know I'm utterly obsessed by people dying in car accidents; I'm utterly obsessed by the way that people will worry about smoking or they'll worry about fucking what's in the water or how much cholesterol, yet they'll get in the car everyday and drive to work, and how many people just get killed or paralyzed and everyone just takes it as, "Oh well, you know, you can't think about it.' Well I can't not think about it, it absolutely does my head in, I can't get away from it, and 'Airbag' was a way of putting it into music to make it feel alright. And the, 'I am born again' thing was sort of -- you're gonna die, there's a million different ways to go, and you have to have a sense of humor.


"I feel compelled to do it because I want something positive to come out of the celebrity thing for me. I was finding it very difficult to sort of deal with the fact that I was a celebrity in a society that chooses to basically enslave the rest of the world in the name of blah, blah, blah - I’m a bit like that, really. And Jubilee 2000 is a way of using my position", he explains.

"If I die tomorrow in a car crash I’ll know I’ll have used it for something positive. To be honest this is a way for me to address issues outside of Radiohead that I’ve wanted to address for a long time, that I’ve always had a problem with".


start by working on 'lost at sea'. thom thinks weve already recorded the definitive version whilst in paris. not sure about that, mind you he admits that thats because of the way hes singing it (which hes only done with a tape alone whilst driving). i really like this new version, as much as anything for its relentlessness and energy. anyhow move onto a new song 'cuttooth' - its got a 'neu' thing about it - long and hypnotic.... finish with attempting to rescue 'you and whose army'...
 

"in a open topped sports car greenmaybeblue possibly california
 
 
in the ctawaykillledage32"
 

"...bodies floating down the muddy rivver in bits and pieces. the steering wheel through the ribs. the shadows swallowing my soul..."


In fact no one was expecting what OK Computer turned into – a woozy and intoxicating slide into Radiohead’s messed up world of euphoria and escape, paranoia and panic. Jonny: “there's lots of stuff about speed, about things happening too quickly. I know Thom is quite obsessed about people climbing into cars every morning and going to work, and not necessarily getting there."


"It really is, uh, best heard driving through the night very very fast across open landscapes... dangerously fast, so it's not at all peace-y and free."


Someone gets hit by a car in Radiohead's "Karma Police" video, as well as in U.N.K.L.E.'s "Rabbit In Your Headlights" (you sing on that one). And then there's the track "Airbag". Is death by auto a recurring nightmare of yours or something? PIPER SCHULHOFF, NEW YORK
Isn't it for everybody? The idea of dying unprepared like that is very frightening. Not having time to say goodbye. It seems just insane. Cars have lost the romance we grew up swallowing. Now they are just personal protection spaces, somewhere to sit in traffic and wait or play with death against complete strangers. I used to be really, really bad about saying goodbye to people when they got in their cars. I still insist that my friends ring me when they get home to tell me they're safe. But I used to be much worse. I would be frantic if someone was unusually late. The absolute worst thing about touring is insane taxi drivers with no seat belts in busy cities. I also find it very difficult to accept lifts from somebody. Just like Mummy told me.


And how do you feel onstage?
The ideal mental state for me to perform live is when it feels as if I'm driving through the night. You know that feeling: driving through the woods, you're on automatic pilot, but tense because your vision is limited in the darkness. I perform best when I sort of feel as if I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just doing it, It's like an emotional automatic pilot.


"Airbag," "Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box": the stench of death, the claustrophobia of cars. Are you preoccupied with dying as it relates to the supposed control/protection level of inanimate objects?
I think a lot about the Buddhist thing, about objects weighing you down so it is very hard for you to rise up and leave when you die.


"Yeah. Oh, yeah, because fright was what I [heard/had] anyway. And it was sort of like, you know, I needed, you need to hear something—there's something you need to hear, like with The Smiths, or... you know. You needed to hear The Smiths in order to make it alright; to feel that thing that you were feeling in that particular moment, that you couldn't make coherent, they managed to do it, and therefore it's alright. Same (with) Joy Division or Sibelius or, you know, something makes you just go, ‘Fuck! It's alright!' [Laughs]. You know? Um—and that's what I had with that tune. It's sort of—it's okay to, to—to want to drive this car off the side of the motorway at a hundred miles an hour."


Thom Yorke, Radiohead’s singer, nods in agreement and can see his point. But when he thinks about Hail To The Thief, he thinks about driving in his car, at dusk, down country lanes. It was here, after all, that he first began to notice it. He doesn’t want to sound like a lunatic or anything, but as he drove, as he would do most night during Radiohead’s last six-month break, he found that he was entering a dream-like state. It quire tripped him out, actually.


“I was totally hooked on Radio 4. And it coincided with Noah’s times to get up [for feeding]. We were staying in our house on the coast, and in the evening I used to go driving. I’d go into this weird dreamstate. There was something about the colours of the headlights, the twilight and the animals running into the bushes for cover. It had this ominous nature that stuck with me. It was all wrapped up with the fact that I found it incredibly difficult to come to terms with the fact that maybe we were leaving our children with no future at all. This imminent state of moving into the dark ages again. The rise of all this Right-wing bigotry, stupidity, fear and ignorance.”


Thom: I went through this phase of driving around in twilight for various reasons, down endless country roads on my own. Listening to loud music. And uh... the highlight of my day, as you can imagine. And (uh) I always, I would just think about the, what I've heard on the radio. And what I was hearing on the radio and blah blah blah. And there's something that happens within that light and the way it mixed with the head lights from my car, which is something I had tried to get into a painting for ages, and, gave up because i basically can't paint. But, it just sort of, that thing stuck with me, it's quite a difficult.... That's the best way I can explain it. I think most records that we do have certain colours. And those are the colours for me. If you know what I mean."
 

Although he's usually polite and affable in conversation, occasionally Yorke will roll his eyes if he doesn't agree with you, then mock you by saying what he thinks you want to hear. Other times he makes absurd comments to see what kind of reaction he can get. Case in point: During a recent interview in London, the shy, politically minded vegan made some pretty uncharacteristic statements when talking about the time the band spent in Los Angeles working on its new album, Hail to the Thief.

"We felt really glamorous being in Hollywood," he began with a smirk. "We went to glamorous parties, and we had matching Minis with Union Jacks. I chose the Range Rover because it was the most polluting car I could find — 4.6 liters of pure gluttony. Disgusting."

[...]

"I'm just enjoying the fact that I haven't been hit by a car yet and I'm still doing this," he said when asked about the benefits of stardom. "It's not easy. If you crack up, then that's it. And it's pretty easy to crack up because suddenly people start talking to you like you're from another planet and you just think that's normal. I really worry about other people like Coldplay and the Strokes, 'cause the sort of success they've had really screws with your head. It's like, what do you do next?"

(Q, July 2003)

There is that. I was playing it [Penderecki's cello concerto] on a cassette in the car. It's absolutely terrifying. It makes The Shining soundtrack sound mild. A whole orchestra scored by telling a bunch of guys who'd never played their instruments before to make as much noise as possible. It's the equivalent of a wall of amplifiers feeding back — but with that fragile sound of the cello in the middle. And I'd listen to that, driving around watching the animals run for cover from the headlights. And that got me back to music. It didn't really translate on the record but it clicked the switch back in.


GB Do you think that nature is a higher form of beauty than man-made things?

TY They are too different to be compared. I reckon some of our ideas of beauty from the man-made world could be too self-referential and do us no favours. Too much time spent in cities you know? Surrounded by our own image, and our own intentions, our edifices to our brilliance. Having said that, the other thing I was going to suggest for a thing of beauty was a sports car.
 
Images
 
(From Site 4; OKC/Kid A-era)
 
  
http://archive.radiohead.com/Site4/ALTEREDTOWERS/dummy.gif

Thursday, July 13, 2023

thom + (hypo)mania

 NOTE: This entry was not written with the intent to armchair-diagnose Thom with anything. However, these quotes all relate to Thom and (self-)described experiences with mania or hypomania.

(The Guardian, December 20th 1997)

CHRIS HUFFORD (RH's manager)

There's a strange kind of emotional honesty which is always there in their shows. Thom cannot stand going through the motions, and when he catches himself doing it he gets furious with himself. Thom is a highly strung, emotional person. He's also incredibly shy, and he can go off one when he feels something's been put the wrong way, so people immediately say he's a manic depressive. That's understandable because they only see him in his public role when he's highly stressed, but he's not like that at all.

(Snoozer #037, June 2003, translated from Japanese)

Thom: Yeah, my role model is Spike Milligan, (a legendary comedian/comedy writer in the UK, who died last year and is credited on this album). He's my role model not only because he is a funny guy, but because he suffered from mania all his life and it was really bad. And yet, he kept on living. He still got up in the morning. I think it's very human to do that.

(Mojo #117, August 2003)

The more commonly known term for such periods of frenetic activity is hypomania. When a person is in a hypomanic state, they may not appear outwardly depressed. Indeed, the world may appear to make more sense to them than it has done for a long time. Guilford pinpoints the role of hypomania in the creative process by alighting on two terms: "spontaneous flexibility (the ability to produce a rich variety of ideas and to switch from one area of interest to another) and adaptive flexibility (the ability to come up with unusual ideas or solutions)."

Anthony Clare adds, "There is more than a suggestion that they can be heightened or facilitated by the quickening of cognitive processes and the surges of mental energy that are a feature of hypomania." At its most extreme, hypomania can precipitate a depression that can - although in Thom's case, did not - result in paranoid schizophrenia. He expresses momentary surprise when the term is mentioned. "Hypomania. Yes, that's exactly what it was. And then I went through a period of deep depression."

It was another two years before the discovery of Clare and Milligan's book would reveal to Thom not only that his activity had a name - but that actually it was common among people who created for a living. In the meantime, he decided that if being in Radiohead was to be bearable, they had to fundamentally change the way they worked. The Thom Yorke that entered into the Kid A/Amnesiac sessions was a walking contradiction: on the one hand throwing his hypomanic writings open to public scrutiny (although ironically no one outside their circle of fans happened upon them); on the other hand, desperate to eschew the soul-baring role which he felt had made him so vulnerable.

(Sydney Morning Herald, April 23rd 2004)

"I was reading this book that [Milligan] did, Depression and How to Survive It. He suffered very, very badly from depression and he was manic," says Yorke.

"I don't have anything like the problems he had - not clinical depression at all - but there was lots about mania and creativity that made me feel better about how I work: this is normal.

"Well not normal, but the upside of this feeling is the energy you have when you are in the mania stage and [this book] was a really important thing for me at the time."

[...]

What some saw as a kind of madness afflicting Yorke when the band returned home - scrapping dozens of songs; rejecting anything that smacked of repeating patterns from the band's musical past; talking publicly of razing the band's collective ego to the ground - was one way of dealing with depression. Depression spawned by "months and months of seeing your own image projected and the echoes coming back at you, so you get to this level of detachment."

"[The depression] is debilitating and sort of destructive but I don't consider that I'm in any way unusual," he says. "I consider that I'm very lucky because I have a way of dealing with it, which is working. [Using the] highs and the lows too. The lows are when you are like litmus paper: you absorb more when everything is twice as loud and everything is twice as bright."

(NME, December 8th 2007)

Thom: “I have this thing – just before I get really sick I’ll have this 12-hour hyperactive mania, and that song was recorded during one of those. I felt genuinely out of it when we did that. The vocal is one take and we didn’t do anything to it afterwards. We tidied up my guitar because I was so out of it, my guitar-playing was rubbish. My best vocals are always the ones that happen there and then.”

Thursday, July 6, 2023

yorkediet

 Curious what resident rabbit food-lover Thom Yorke likes to eat? Here's an attempt at collating his dietary history, and his odd likes/dislikes...

(Radiohead's Tour Rider, 1992)


(Details, November 1993)

In the beer garden of a nearby pub, the rest of the band chatter gaily while Thom stares stonily into his mineral water. After fifteen minutes he leaves. Hmm.

(Sky, January 1994)

Sitting slumped across a dinner table in the hotel bar, Mr Yorke hardly looks like a singer about to embark on the biggest European tour of his life. He's in the mood for moaning and no one, not the band and certainly not some journalist, is going to persuade him otherwise. "Do I have to?" he wails, taking another sip from his bottle of not very rock 'n' roll mineral water.

(NME, May 27th 1995)

With Thom's head in such a whirl it comes as no surprise to him that he should find himself eating mud masquerading as pasta in an Italian restaurant in the heart of Spain. He was doing the same thing in reverse in Rome yesterday.

[...]

As Thom swaps his plate of brownish green pasta for a melted cheese and tomato butty optimistically described on the menu as pizza, he excitedly discusses the direction he'd like Radiohead to take next.

(Select #61, July 1995)

Colin and I got into cooking. But all the things we cooked had to have pesto in. Colin always referred to it as the 'pesto slop'. It would taste great, though. You know, idiot food. But a month after I moved out I ate some pesto and started feeling really sick. I haven't eaten it since.

(B-Side #51, July/August 1995)

"I would prefer that to some scary groupies,' murmurs Thom. "There's always this feeling that you're somehow this extension of the Coca-Cola thing, like on MTV: you're always proceeded by Coca-Cola."

"Or sponsored by them,' frets Jonny.

"Yeah, you turn up at some gigs, and what was that one that was sponsored by Pepsi... oh fuck," hisses Thom. "I don't even drink the stuff..."

(Radiohead World Service #2, October 1995)

Diet coke for breakfast.

(NME, December 9th 1995)

They talk for a few moments, then Yorke's girlfriend ambles off into the crowd. Yorke walks into catering, looks blankly at the food then returns to his dressing room. He sits briefly then drifts away yet again, unable to sit still for more than a minute...

[...]

Then he's off wandering again; amiable, chatting, snatching food where he can. All the time he's smiling, content that he performed well, pleased that tonight's gig was so good.

(CBC Radio, March 22nd 1996)

Interviewer: But you were back in Oxford in January, right? Are you telling me you didn't eat one hamburger?

Thom: I don't eat meat. I haven't eaten meat for five years.

(Mon souper avec Radiohead, April 1996)

(Addicted to Noise, June 1996)

ATN: What are your feelings on vegetarianism?

Thom: I think we were right, and the rest of the world's wrong. (referring to the Mad Cow disease.) Yeah...we were right...nah, nah, nah..so there.

Jonny: I find it increasingly hard to do, because you discover with horror that your favorite chocolate sweets have gelatin in them..

Thom: And cheese, when they put the rennet in...that's the most disgusting thing imaginable! I think basically, that it's the responsibility of the supermarkets to fucking get themselves sorted out, you know. Because basically people rely on supermarket chains and they're really the ones that should be endorsing vegetarianism. Cos if they don't, then it'll never happen, you know.

(Radiohead World Service #4, early 1997)

He was not as nervous as was rumoured. He is rather masculine in character, though he is a strict vegetarian who doesn't eat even fish. Besides, he is kind-hearted and dependable.

(Request, September 1997)

"This house was the total opposite," Yorke says with a muted intensity that doesn't at all jibe with the 28-year-old's spitfire stage presence. Tucked into a Naugahyde booth, sipping chamomile tea and a glass of carrot juice, Yorke exhibits body language that suggests intense caginess, as if he's not quite comfortable in his own skin. 

(Esquire, September 1997)

With some difficulty, tour manager Tim Greaves had acquired canteen meal-tickets for the band, but the food was a digestion-challenging mix of polystyrene burgers and the kind of salad probably best suited to mopping up oil in your garage. Jonny Greenwood gazed down sceptically at his plate. Yorke, nursing a hangover, propped his head on his fist and glowered.

(Q #133, October 1997)

Back at the band's hotel, Yorke readies himself for the interview with strong coffee (he scorns decaf) and chooses a table in the natural light of the glass-roofed restaurant. He settles himself.

(Rolling Stone #771, October 16th 1997)

As he takes his seat, Yorke grabs a friend's jet-fuelled margarita and exclaims "What...is...this?" He takes a sip. "Yeow", the scrawny singer yells, shaking his head. "I think I'll be having one of those".

[...]

Yorke settles into a chair, accepts a glass of champagne and orders french fries and a salad.

(Select, January 1998)

Down the corridor, at one of the trestle tables that form the eating area, Thom Yorke has a breakfast of grapefruit and cereal, while Luscious Jackson's 'Fever In, Fever Out' album plays in the kitchen, and the band's caterers work on the kind of earthy buffet lunch that cannot help but provide a comforting kind of solace (an impression only furthered by the permanent presence of a jar of Marmite).

(San Francisco Chronicle, June 24th 2001)

Q: Are you a picky eater?

A: (Another lifestyle question? Along the lines of what makeup do I use and how do I spend my spare time?) I am vegetarian. Which means in France I want to be sick all the time. In Germany and Portugal I hardly eat at all until I leave. But when I am hungry I get very desperate. I draw the line at cheese in a can, however. Days and days traveling in the United States living on tortilla chips and salsa can also take its toll.

(The New Yorker, August 20th 2001)

On the other side of the table, Yorke, whose meal consisted of a bowl of bean soup, started complaining about pop-music conglomerates.

(Follow Me Around fan-doc, 2002)

(GQ, June 2003)

"Yorke was drinking black coffee from a half-plunged cafetiere and glancing at the headlines of that morning's Guardian."

[...]

"Well I keep cutting out those Red Cross ads, so I guess I'll do that. But fucking hell, the Americans should be forking out for that!" This was a rare flash of contentiousness and when the two of us sat down for lunch at a Thai restaurant just off the High Street, Yorke's remarks about the very meat of Hail To The Thief were as vegetarian as his Pak Krua noodles.

(Time Out (New York), June 5th 2003)

If the music from Hail to the Thief is any indication, the band is fitter and happier than it has been in years “With this record, I was just letting it happen – for the first time,” Yorke says in his Dublin hotel, munching on a seriously hodgepodge vegetarian dinner of french fries, steamed vegetables and a leafy salad. 

(Spin, July 2003)

I'm sitting with Yorke in the restaurant of an Oxford, England, hotel called The Old Parsonage. He was 20 minutes late for our interview, explaining that he had to run home and do some yoga because he was “feeling a bit weird.” He's studying the restaurant menu and complaining that he's running out of things he can eat – not only is he a vegetarian, but he's stopped eating anything made with wheat (for the past six months, he's had a skin rash, and he thinks wheat is the culprit). Eventually he settles on roasted tomatoes and buffer beans, a meal he calls “expensive” (it costs about $17). 

[...]

“Having a son has made me very concerned about the future and about how things in the world are being steered, supposedly in my name,” he says between sips of mineral water. 

(Mojo #117, August 2003)

Yorke himself seems unerringly bullish throughout the three days Mojo has spent with him. This is something he attributes to his diet - although, later, some more deep-rooted reasons surface. He's been wheat-free for the last two years and, as a result, feels sufficiently energised to make it through the longest of days. 

(Blender, September 2003)

YORKE AND BLENDER have moved next door to the Edinburgh party, to a quiet, neat dressing room. As he nibbles on rabbit food — he’s a vegetarian and has recently given up wheat and dairy products — Yorke talks of what eats at him.

(BBC Radio 1 'Mark & Lard', November 21st 2003)

Mark: "Fish and chips and beans for Ed O'Brien, and what have you got there, Thom?

Lard: "Bit of mash? Carrots?

Thom: "Mash, carrots, and something called Quorn........

Ed: "Chilli

Mark: "Is that it? Quorn chilli, right, the vegetarian dish of the day, so anyway, Thom and Ed are here, and we will be talking to them once there's......

(Dead Air Space, 23 August 2005)

everybodys wasted. expended i mean. energy wise i mean.

all in need of bowl of coco pops.

(Dead Air Space, 2006)

(Dead Air Space, 20 November 2006)

supermarket demand for fish ( not that i eat fish or meat ) has meant we are fishing to extinction . what i find particularly offensive are the enormous nets they use that drag everything up and well.... just have a read. supermarkets should be made to source their fish responsibly and governments should act in the intersest of our future to regulate for sustainable fishing. not this mass production/destruction shit. i respect peoples right to eat fish. but evertime i watch the guys in the band sitting down to their whatever it is with scales i quietly wonder how its arrived. and what was destroyed and killed or thrown away to get it....

(BBC Radio 1 'Zane Lowe', November 20th 2007)

Zane: Thom, are you a "cheese man"?

Thom: I have to, I'm a vegetarian so I live on Cheese.

Zane: You do! And your favorite cheese is?

Thom: Um...Gorgonzola.

Zane: Gorgonzola 's a good sharp...

Thom: Like nice, you know, the drippy ones...

Zane: Yeah!

Thom: that drip out of the packet?

Ed: No, man.

Zane: You're a "cheddar man", you can get on with a little mature cheddar?

Thom: Actually, yeah, I mean, cheddar with everything.

Zane: Cheddar! I mean, people who say that cheddar isn't their favorite cheese are really pushing the boat out, I think. Because it's so adaptable.

Thom: But only if it's, you know, extra mature.

Zane: It's GOT to be extra mature, Mild I just think is a waste of time.

Thom: Yeah, well, the kids have Mild, and I just can't do it.

(Rolling Stone #1155, April 26th 2012)

Later that day, Radiohead convene with Edge and Hufford to discuss touring in 2012. Afterward, O'Brien describes the meeting as "fraught." Yorke already sounds uneasy over his egg-white omelet: "The level of machinery freaks me out sometimes. You walk backstage, and there's people and stuff everywhere.

(Esquire, March 2013)

Thom: If you're going to be a vegetarian, you really do have to like lentils. Otherwise you're fucked.

(Teresa Carles' FB post,  April 18th 2013; *translated from Spanish)

Thom Yorke, who almost all of you will know as the lead singer of Radiohead, visited Razzmatazz yesterday and conquered Barcelona with his latest super project: Atoms For Peace.

Before his performance, we had the honor of having him visit the restaurant and taste Teresa Carles' specialties!!! Among his favorites was the Tofu and Avocado Tartar ;-)

(Toronto Sun, June 24th 2013)

The cooks reveal Radiohead frontman Yorke "snacks" on sumac spiced aubergine and Lebanese salsa sliders before a gig, while his bandmates enjoy tucking in to partridge, quince and ginger gyoza.

(Rolling Stone, May 31st 2017)

At the moment, he’s sitting in Little Dom’s Italian restaurant in the Los Feliz neighborhood of his adopted hometown of Los Angeles, wearing a bleached denim jacket with the collar popped up, a thin white T-shirt and what appear to be leather pants. His long hair is pulled back into a tiny, tight bun; he has a stylish gray beard. Little Dom’s is one of his favorite spots – he was here the night before for dinner – but now it’s midafternoon, and the restaurant has opened early just for him. He orders an English breakfast tea, and later an espresso. In his hand is an iPhone with a sticker on the back that sums up his response to nearly every conceivable query: “Fuck what you heard.”

Misc. images






Wednesday, July 5, 2023

jonny, computers, and programming in Max/MSP

Because Jonny is good at everything, he's also a computer nerd that likes writing his own music software. As a kid, he would write programs in BASIC on his ZX Spectrum computer. Around the Kid A sessions, he found existing software to be limiting, and wrote his own using Max/MSP. In this post I'll also highlight the general fondness he has for computers as well.

I highly recommend reading this post by the King of Gear, which goes much deeper into the technical aspects of Jonny's computer usage.

(VPRO 3VOOR12 'Dubble Check', June 11th 2003)

Jonny: "Yeah, exactly, plug-ins, and even sequencers, and even things that put things in order for you, and are meant to be... you know, so... I'm really... I've kind of gone one lower and I've started programming and writing software, like I used to when I was a kid, that was kind of my big hobby, I was one of those nerdy kids with the first home computers, the Sinclairs, I was like eleven or something."

Sander: "ZX Spectrum, I had it."

Jonny: "I had one too!"

Sander: "Like in BASIC..."

Jonny: "Exactly, BASIC, and just started some machine code and stuff, and loved it. And then I felt like computers were taken away from me and it wasn't, you weren't... kind of using the computer in a very pure way anymore. And now I found out how you said, plug-ins, instead of using plug-ins, I'm writing... I'm writing software, you know, I'm creating... you know... The sound comes into the computer as numbers, and it's that kind of program, and I love it. It's really good because you can think in very pure terms about what sound is and what music is and what you want to do. You don't have to kind of use anybody else's idea of reverb is meant to be or what, you know, how music should be sequenced. Or what tempo is, or anything, you're much freer."

(Computer Music Journal, 2003?)

The idea is that taking a laptop off a shelf is like picking up a guitar or an organ. Newer technology, but not better, just different. Having said that, I can't imagine using it alone.

When we play the song Gloaming live, the laptop takes over for the end section, using a Max/MSP patch which steals sections of what everyone else is doing, and carries on when they all stop. But I don't use laptops for generating sounds very often, mainly sound manipulation and MIDI generation. I prefer generating sounds other ways.

I've always felt uncomfortable having to use other people's software to make music. However limitless sequencers, audio editors, and plug-ins claim to be, you still find yourself being forced, however subtlely, to work in certain ways. My copy of Emagic Logic insists on looping the first four bars whenever it can (although it's good software in lots of ways)… With Max/MSP I finally got to think about sound and MIDI, and their manipulation, in a much purer way… I felt that all direct contact with computers had been taken away from me, until I found Max/MSP.

Max/MSP… suits my chaotic, wire-filled constructions. Lots have half-finished ideas embedded in them, which aren't used, and they've a tendency to crash during concerts. But I love it all: I could fill pages with obsessive stuff about Max/MSP. I've even started lurking in chat rooms, and idolizing shadowy figures like jhno and Karlheinz Essl.

(X-Ray, august 2003)

"You need to take computers back from the software programmers," says Jonny Greenwood, excitably. "I've gone back to making my own programmes, and I feel free again. It's like computers have been given back to me. Since the 80s, there's been this barrier in the way, and we're not talking to computers any more. For me, that's the future, using computers in a much more raw way, not using anybody else's idea of how something should work or sound. All these things, like Cubase and Logic and Photoshop –- things that supposedly free you up – you feel like you're on tramlines, and being guided to do certain things. So it all comes out the same. We didn't use any software on the new album. We wrote it all. That means you can come up with ideas on what sound is and what sound does. Traditionally, bands get to our stage and lose focus, becoming more interested in their collection of sports cars. We're still interested in making new sounds. "

(Undercover, May 2004)

JG: Yes that's true. He's our age and he just kind of grew up with us so when we're recording songs we're working and when we're not recording songs we're talking about the home computers we had in the eighties and reminiscing and playing computer games together. 


SHORTLY after Radiohead released its album “In Rainbows” online in October, the band misplaced its password for Max/MSP, a geek-oriented music software package that the guitarist Jonny Greenwood uses constantly. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, Mr. Greenwood said over a cup of tea at the venerable Randolph Hotel here. As usual Radiohead contacted Max/MSP’s developers, Cycling ’74, for another password. “They wrote back,” Mr. Greenwood said, “‘Why don’t you pay us what you think it’s worth?’”

(Intro #157, February 2008; translated from German)

Q: Radiohead has come to characterize itself by using a completely new set-up for each record. What was the equipment that was important for your latest production?
A: I've been using a tool called Max/MSP a lot, it's really good. It's kind of like a low-level programming language. The approach is to think about sounds in a very pure way, thinking about mathematics and the mechanics of music as well. You build on the basis of sound, you don't use other people's ideas. You don't have to conform to predetermined ideas of what reverb is or what a sequencer should be. You construct it all yourself, physically, based on mathematics, the numbers. I found that very interesting, and a lot of results from that work went on the record.


"It's borderline some kind of syndrome, isn't it?" says Greenwood. "He'd have been very happy in this building 40 years ago, walking round in a white coat. Working with Spike Stent felt a bit too much like there was an adult present. With Nigel we can reminisce about old ZX Spectrum games. He's our generation. It feels more like we're in it together."

(Uncut #167, April 2011)

"I play the piano a lot at the moment," he says after a pause. "I don't know, I'm a bit low on hobbies. I used to do lots of photography... I don't know. What do I do? What do you do? I just generally worry about things, I think? And daydream ideas for programming." That puts him back in his stride. "The programming is really fun at the moment, very satisfying. I spend half my time writing music software, computer-based sound generators for Radiohead. Trying to bypass other people's ideas of what music software should do and how it should sound, going back a step. It's like building wonky drum machines, not using presets, basically. It's like 'Mouse Trap', you construct things." 


Tall and shy, constantly sweeping a long curtain of black hair from his face, Jonny is the only member of Radiohead without a college degree; he left his studies in psychology and music at Oxford Polytechnic College when the group got its record deal in 1991. But he is arguably Radiohead's most gifted musician: a classically trained violist who also plays violin, cello and keyboards. Jonny also created the software program used to sample the instruments on The King of Limbs. "I was never happier," he says, "than when I was in my bedroom as a kid, working on rubbishy computer games.


"With programming? Well, a friend of Nigel Godrich (our producer) told him I should use Max, because it's what they were teaching at his music college. He was right! It was the first time I got to reconnect properly with computers. I used to love them - I grew up programming home computers for fun, playing around first with Basic, then these primitive hex assemblers. Just simple bits of machine code - the closer I got to the bare bones of the computer, the more exciting I found it."
(The rest of the article continues on in a similar vein–I'm not gonna paste the whole thing here. Just read it.)

Some related images...

15 step patch, via

yorkecar

 the approximate timeline of thom's car ownership:

sometime after 1985:  "I was 17. Hadn't slept the night before. Anyway, eventually, my dad bought me another car, a Morris Minor, you know, and when you drove around corners in it, the driver door used to fly open."

not his actual car. just a visual...

(Correlated by this listing from someone who claims to own the Morris now; "...was owned for 20 years by Thom Yorke")

1997 - "And truer still, Thom doesn't actually try to run anyone over or, indeed, even drive an all-action Almera (it's a knackered old Fiat Punto actually, 'Top Gear' fanatics)."

2001 - Alfa Romeo 156

identified in this article as an "italian sports car"
(Alfa Romeo 156 for reference)

also, in 2001: "And he's off, leaping into a big, curvy, grey-green car, zooming away from the madness, a remarkable man with wonky eyes in spooky shoes and a hole in his soul in the shape of a "funny" triangle."
(It's possible that this is the Morris mentioned earlier; it lines up with the 20-year ownership period)

2003, unconfirmed: “I'm almost pathologically the opposite. I ring up my bank manager to ask him if it's all right for me to buy a Mini.

2005: "I was trying to convince Nigel to go surfing or to drive my old Land Rover across the sand dunes..."
(It's unclear when he bought this Land Rover...considering he calls it 'old')

2006: "I don't have solar panels on my house yet. I haven't sorted out the heating, my car's not a Prius, I f---ing fly all the time for my job and I hate it but at the moment I haven't really got a choice, you know, and all these things."


thom loves cars

Information on Thom's current car is pretty scarce... so you'll just to imagine a vintage soft top from the '60s, I guess...


jonny's arm brace

 ( NME, July 13th 1996 )  Not even Johnny's [sic] stylish arm-brace accessory (hey! Limb damage is IN for '97!) can dull the cocky c...