Radiohead - The King of Limbs

     Unlike most rock fans my age Radiohead has never really grabbed me. I have a few of their albums and I like them, but, with the exception of a few songs, they've never thrown me into hysterics the way they do with most. The King of Limbs is no different. There's intricate drumming, spacey electronics, high-pitched vocals with the usual plethora of effects, sounds you recognize as guitar playing (but which try as hard as possible to disguise themselves) and the occasional acoustic guitar so you don't get lost in a sea of electronics.

      Like I said, some songs are exceptions. The King of Limbs has “Morning Mr.Magpie,” with its glitchy and minimal drumming, matching guitar (using one of the coolest tones I've heard in awhile) jazzy bass riffs and lyrics dripping with “Karma Police”-esque anger. The following track, “Little by Little” lives up to its title. I didn't care much for it on my first listen but after a few listens I noticed how all the different parts fit together, resulting in a pretty song with a great rhythm and guitar playing that is simple and dark.

      My biggest complaint about The King of Limbs is a lack of actual songs. Each track sounds more like an experiment in weird noises, complicated percussion and reverb-drenched vocals. Lead singer Thom Yorke's lyrics specialize in a feeling of alienation and their music reflects that but, in my opinion, to a fault. Even the lyrics are sometimes lost in an overabundance of effects like the delay-heavy track “Feral.”

The other problem with the album is the pacing. The majority of these tracks are slow and droney and the faster-paced ones are bunched together at the beginning of the album. This creates the impression that you're listening to the final track on the album for 3 songs in a row. On a longer album this might not be a problem, but King of Limbs only has 8 tracks and clocks in at just over 30 minutes, so most of the album sounds sluggish and dull.

      Overall, the album isn't bad and I will definitely pull it out for a listen every now and again. It's another pretty Radiohead album with lots of darkness, brooding and electronics. The occasional bright and loud song is what keeps me coming back and maybe my dream will come true one day and they'll release an album full of them. In the meantime I plan to keep giving Radiohead one more chance.

One more poem

I've had a weird week consisting of a lot of thoughts about this blog and I've decided to change things up. As much as I love reading I don't find I'm very strong when it comes to writing about books, certainly not in the way that I'm strong at writing about music so I've decided to just post music reviews. I didn't get a review done this week because this decision was only made tonight so I'm gonna leave you with a poem this week and I promise from this moment onward you'll be getting a weekly album review. I look forward to keeping it up and I hope you enjoy this poem!

Aliens, Stay Home

I was not deceived,

the terrifying swirls were just protecting the beautiful pearls.

My road rage melted away instantly.

Were you choking on my exhaust,

doing your best to instill fear,

until you figured out how you got lost?

I would like the record to show I stood up for your cause,

begged the little boys to put their big game on pause.

I wish scientists made decisions and passed laws;

we would have caressed and studied instead of ripping you with claws.

Am I the only one who feels the technological weight we lost?

Sure, we don't feel scared anymore but how much did it cost?

Taking Back Sunday - New Again. (This is more of a thought than a review.)

    I've been listening to Taking Back Sunday since I was in high school. I was full of angst and no good with girls so their brand of confessional punk rock was a perfect fit. When I was first introduced to them they had just released their second full length album and I listened to both albums obsessively. The timing of their third release was oddly perfect. I had just graduated high school and been dumped by my first serious girlfriend. Mourning that loss and dealing with the fear and anxiety of starting college, I lost myself in Taking Back Sunday's dark world once again. Albums I love the most are always ones that perfectly capture how I'm feeling when they show up in my life and that have the ability to bring me back to those feelings when they've passed.

     Now I'm 22 years old, I have a girlfriend of over 2 years whom I love and trust and I'm listening to Taking Back Sunday's latest album, New Again. The riffs are catchy, the guitars and drums are loud and lead singer Adam Lazzara is pouring his heart out as always, but something feels different. At a first listen I thought the production was the problem. Too quiet, too sleek, too something. Comparing it to the first three albums though, I noticed it fit their formula and realized therein lies the problem. This album is a continuation of their angsty motif and I just don't relate anymore.

     I used to believe that bands who never moved away from what made them popular were sellouts. I also believed that there were good bands and bad bands and only intelligent people could tell the difference. I see now that all art, popular music included, is subjective and that very few bands make music that means nothing to them. The bands whose albums I continue to buy and enjoy are the ones who change with me and I now see that this is not by any concious effort on their part (how could it be, they've never met me?) but rather some random chance that makes the mystery of art so compelling. I may not have enjoyed this album very much, but I have no doubt that there is a sad teenager somewhere falling in love with it as it helps him through the melodramas unfolding in his life.

POEMS!

So due to working more than usual this week I didn't have time to do a review. Instead, I'm going to post all of the poetry (written by me) that I have saved on my computer. I hope you enjoy it and I'll have a review up like normal next week.

A Matter of Life

Tonight I felt the old familiar sting

And with a rhyming thought I brought out the ol' White Screen

Should I follow in Big's footsteps and muse about bitches and bling,

or join Dylan's search for the answer to everything?

Maybe I'm naive but I have a hunch,

Being myself is gonna be enough

No more trend hopping or name dropping

It's time that I do some serious soul searching

Will depressants and psychedelics be the key,

or is my life in need of some cold and clear sobriety?

Is this supposed to be a lonely journey,

or will I find more enlightenment kickin' it with my lady?

Wait, ignore that pretentious obsession with wisdom

All I want is to be happy.

A Present For My Editor

Waking to the sound of sirens

Did you really think that there'd be silence?

With a mask, no sign

Will this ever be behind us?

Hidden with the help of sex and drugs

“You're either on the bus or off the bus.”

I've seen their nest and it looks more like a coop

When you escape you can return

Just throw everyone you know for a loop.

 A Question of Fidelity

You are the most beautiful ghost in my window

I hold my breath as I watch you disappear, real slow.

Should I feel guilty for not wanting to let you go?

Is it cheating if all I crave is a wave, smile or simple “hello”?

Eye Wish I Was Just Like You, Mr.Eye

I took all the cowboys out back and shot them

I made them beautiful coffins from pieces of my self-confidence

I traded in my Smith & Wessons for shiny new neuroses

I looked at pictures of my former-selves and they asked “What's the difference between you and us?”

“I can smile, you can trust”

Look Up This Time

Thoughts of last night are torturing me

We gave into “I love you” 's and lust after a failed world war three

Playing with the black and white I'm inspired to let out all the amazing you see in me

Sitting still, thoughts of happiness like this used to make me ill

Jealous, I got angry instead of wishing others well

Luckily, this time I have a different story to tell

Maybe this time it'll be something I can sell

With chords and a scream written in my own little heaven, leading your thoughts out of hell

“There's nothing you can or should do within the next 24 hours”

A conversation that led to thoughts of first dates and flowers

Mimicking the heroes that brought us so close, I tried desperately to convince you of my powers

To make you happy and laugh, time travel to your hurts and take them all back

With my hands on your spine I pray that you'll put up with this bed of pain one more time

As far as I know this is a rare occasion

A friendship like ours escalating into nothing less than love and passion

As my head tries to heed an old lesson something inside me screams “what use is caution?”

 Online/Offline

Is anyone else annoyed by this disappearing act?

Or is it a form of protest,

jumping off the digital map?

Maybe I'm taking it too seriously, this virtual slap.

I should walk away, turn the other cheek.

The machines are tired

It's time for a digital nap.

Scholastic Blues

Chin up, slacker

This is the exact opposite of being there for her

Of course the nightmare is gonna come true

The lecture halls were so much brighter and warmer before you

A glimpse at the old life

Would you rather not be subjected to this attention plight?

I'd be nothing but gracious if you took a fifth, final flight

Permanent and devastating

Educational, cleansing.

Sometimes Sailing Sucks

With a lack of supplies we scour the ocean

surrounded by a terrible silence, starving and broken.

The remains of our vessel is smoking,

On alert with bloodshot eyes, the captain and I feverishly inhale.

How often are we going to argue about who decided to set sail?

The sharks are making noise again

Demanding the fish we don't have,

how else are we going to get their precious flakes of skin?

“I'm so glad no one else has seen the monsters we've been”

“Me too, now shut up, put this on your tongue and pray that God didn't see a thing.”

Vic1

Dear Perfection

Right now it's obvious that distance is the wrong selection

Anxious to not let you forget me

I wanted to fill your backpack with loving heartsick poetry

Maybe before you get back I'll put this to a melody

Why not? You obviously bring out the artist in me

I hope the ocean treats you well

Jamming on the porch where it all began

I hope my love for you rings out like a bell

I know I've said this before but

You're an angel the universe lets accompany me on my occasional missions through hell

I'm sorry (I know, I owe you money) for all the sadness I let you see

I promise when you get back we'll do nothing but soak in the happy

I'll show you how much you mean to me and all the amazing things I believe we can be

 War Is Groovy

Before I flew to the desert I wrote music praising Jesus and The President

Beer and rifles in the woods, voices shouting:

“There's no way I'm letting Timmy Taliban into my hood!”

Now I have wind at my back and a bomb in my hands

covered in blood, melting the sand.

Tell my kids daddy was the first one to take a stand,

and famous for writing the blueprint of being a man.

I bleed for Texas tea

I bleed for your machinery

I used to be clear and the creatures in my belly filled land dwellers with fear

Bleeding profusely, I challenge all of you to return my riches.

How does it feel to watch fish choking on your wishes?

Your children will choke on it too;

and good luck, by the way, convincing them that water was blue.