The year was 1995. iPods didn’t exist, President Clinton had yet to “not have sexual relations with that woman,” and across the Atlantic, a young English band named Radiohead was struggling to stay afloat.
Two years had passed since the release of its MTV mega-hit, “Creep,” and members had yet to write anything that matched it—at least according to the critics. Radiohead was trapped, drowning in the shadow of its own commercial success and at a serious risk of entering the realm of one-hit-wonderdom. The media had it branded: “Nirvana-lite” and “The Next U2.” “It’s lazy journalism isn’t it?” said drummer Phil Selway in a 1995 interview. “They’ll always try to pigeonhole you somewhere.” Apparently, their bosses at Capitol Records agreed. The pressure was on: Write something to match the success of “Creep,” or be doomed to an eternity of appearances on VH1’s “I Love the ’90s.”
Obviously, Radiohead chose the former, though this decision was not without its challenges.
“It was something we’d been spending eight or nine years working towards and it was like, we’d never been totally honest with each other … We’re not into bonding; we’re friends and everything, but because of maybe our upbringing or the school that we went to, we don’t tell each other our problems. We deal with them ourselves. It’s the only way you can deal with them.” —Ed O’Brien, guitarist
Coupled with the intense pressure from Capitol, the stress brought on by the band’s sudden rise from obscurity nearly tore it apart. “Things basically came to a head,” guitarist Ed O’Brien said. They’d been touring in Mexico and were crammed in a tiny tour bus (12 dudes; six 5-foot bunks). “It was something we’d been spending eight or nine years working towards and it was like, we’d never been totally honest with each other … We’re not into bonding; we’re friends and everything, but because of maybe our upbringing or the school that we went to, we don’t tell each other our problems. We deal with them ourselves. It’s the only way you can deal with them.”
The Bends (itself a reference to decompression sickness) was singer Thom Yorke’s response; an emotional and introspective testament to the pressures of fame. Coping with the crippling isolation of celebrity and the feeling of no longer being in control of the band’s own career, Yorke expressed the group’s disdain through deeper, increasingly jaded lyricism. This was a step away from the masturbatory, “feel sorry for me” rock ‘n’ roll that characterized Pablo Honey. Songs such as “Bones” and “My Iron Lung” showed maturation, drawing from Yorke’s personal experiences. In the latter, Yorke takes the time to remind the listener (and himself) that “If you’re frightened/You can be frightened/You can be, it’s OK.”
“Fake Plastic Trees” (or “complaint rock” as classified by Alicia Silverstone’s character in Clueless) is less introspective. Instead, it marks the beginning of the band’s decision to include social commentary in his lyrics. In “Trees,” Yorke comments on the shallowness of the world we live in, its drug-hazed inhabitants and the falsity of it all. “She looks like the real thing/She tastes like the real thing/My fake plastic love,” he cries over the sound of a swelling guitar.
Although it outsold Pablo Honey, The Bends only received moderate success upon its release—peaking at No. 88 on the Billboard 200. Lead single “High and Dry” faired better, ranking at No. 78 on the Billboard Hot 100. In the decade-and-a-half since then, the album has risen to near cult status, consistently ranking as one of the best albums of the decade.
So, why The Bends? For its sophomore outing, Radiohead not only shifted its thematic content, it also shifted its aesthetics.
It’s different from the angst-ridden, guitar-heavy sound that dominated Pablo Honey. Here, members gain a finer understanding of the subtleties of music. The layering is more complex; instruments are used in a poignant, meaningful way, resulting in a sound that is calculated, intelligent and altogether honest. It’s less “rock out in my parents’ basement” and more “New York Philharmonic.” (Not that basement jam seshes can’t be equally cerebral.)
Later releases would show Radiohead’s continued mastery of not merely instruments, but sound itself—something that continues to set the band apart in today’s musical landscape. Radiohead’s constant revolution and evolution is what drives its ability to continue producing the boundary-pushing music that cements its albums at the top of every “Best Of” list known to man. It is this mastery that keeps The Bends sounding fresh, 16 years down the road.
Radiohead – The Bends tracklist:
- “Planet Telex”
- “The Bends”
- “High and Dry”
- “Fake Plastic Trees”
- “Bones”
- “(Nice Dream)”
- “Just”
- “My Iron Lung”
- “Bullet Proof … I Wish I Was”
- “Black Star”
- “Sulk”
- “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”
