Radiohead
Amnesiac (Capitol)
Looking back, it makes sense now. Somewhere toward the back end of OK Computer, right around, say, “Lucky,” Radiohead left us for planet Yorke. Kid A wasn’t a radical departure. Sure, maybe it was an attempt to challenge or even irritate fans (albeit one that backfired as it only seemed to endear people more to the Oxford fivepiece), but musically, it was no anomaly. To wit: Roughly six months on the heels of Kid A, Radiohead gives up Kid A Minus, or Amnesiac as it is properly known, and it’s closer in sound and substance to its predecessor than OK Computer was to The Bends. That only makes sense, as the tracks for both albums were cut over the same time frame. Still, if you’re looking for anything that can be forcibly shoehorned into something remotely resembling a pop song, look elsewhere. If that’s what you’re after, Amnesiac is your white flag, because at this point, it would be more accurate to classify Radiohead not as a rock outfit, but as something like a lo-fi trance band with a penchant for near-atonal aesthetics. That said, Amnesiac is slightly more musical than Kid A, but, save for the tense minimalism of opener “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushed Tin Box,” the loose cascade of “Knives Out,” and perhaps, for sheer novelty, the Rufus Wainwright by way of Trout Mask Replica dirge closer “Life in a Glass House,” it’s still no easy listen. And that’s the fundamental flaw of Amnesiac: It’s all mood and no melody, which means it’s constantly straddling the center line between interesting and irritating. This time around, the band only gets so much mileage out of the former before being derailed by way of the latter.
This article appears in June 8 • 2001.