When you listen to the artificial voice that forms the lead on ‘Fitter Happier’, you really understand what Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke was saying, when he looks back on their third album OK Computer as “really f***ing geeky”.
It’s been 20 years since the release of what is one among many of Radiohead’s influential albums. It’s being celebrated by the band with a tour setlist that comprises the full album, and a special reissue edition called OK Computer OKNOTOK 1997 2017 , containing unreleased songs like ‘Man of War’, ‘I Promise’ and ‘Lift’. The first two have received the music video treatment and promotion cycle, but more than that, webzines, blogs and magazines alike have been revisiting OK Computer on its 20th anniversary, to examine what has made it endure. Other publications have sought the voices of musicians from across the board—rappers, electronic music producers, DJs and rock artistes—about what the album meant to them.
OK Computer , arriving two years after the pleasing, radio-friendly sound of The Bends , found major critical acclaim for delivering a message and a feeling through sound and words in a way that very few artistes can. The keyword associated with OK Computer is “paranoia”, probably because of one of its lead singles and Radiohead’s most recognisable songs to date—‘Paranoid Android’. And paranoia is ageless, in a way. The emotion heightened by technology and social media surveillance was delivered by Radiohead, set to sad but cathartic soundscapes that have ended up becoming timeless. We’re not just talking about ‘Paranoid Android’, but also about the poignant ‘Exit Music (For a Film)’, the dejectedness of ‘Karma Police’, the noisy but calming opener ‘Airbag’, the post-modern psychedelia of ‘Climbing Up the Walls’ and that classic Radiohead lullaby ‘No Surprises’.
And fans welcome unreleased material with open arms, brushing off why the band would ever think these songs were not “strong enough” (something that Yorke questioned in retrospect as well at their recent shows). But when you hear something as chilling as ‘I Promise’, a morose but firm song about love and making it work, you know why these tracks are among the “lost classics”, as fans refer to them. ‘Lift’, which by the band’s own admission could have been their next ‘Creep’, skyrocketing them into mainstream fame, was actually a delicate song that metaphorically (and literally) talks about being stuck in an elevator—perhaps an indicator of their rising fame at the time.
And then, there’s the warning and threatening that’s on ‘Man of War’, foreshadowing the many albums ahead that Radiohead would spend talking about war, soldiers and the effects of conflict. These are songs that fans have obsessed over for 20 years, having the chance to see them live, or cling on to a bootleg recording from what was often just a single performance. Sure, the nature of songwriting often involves trial and error, but with Radiohead, there is clearly no room for errors—even if they deliberate over them for two decades.
