A boy and his band: the break up
Greg Lytle
Issue date: 8/29/05 Section: Arts & Life
Dear Radiohead: It's been some time since I last wrote, but the summer was quite a life-changing experience.
First, I accidentally crashed my car into a ditch and could have died from it were conditions slightly different.
My sister got married.
I fell in love (you know who you are).
I re-chipped one of my front teeth at Ventura's, which, despite what people tell you, is a terrible Mexican restaurant.
Then, I quit my job at the deli in a small town locally-owned grocery store to work at Claudia's - in the deli.
But none of that has anything to do with our relationship.
Radiohead, you're a great band.
You got me through most of my teenage years and into college.
You've produced consistently good music for almost 10 years now.
I'll always remember the special time we shared.
You were my favorite band. I loved you.
But I'm breaking up with you.
Now look, Radiohead, you're going to make some angst ridden, confused, alienated boy or girl very happy.
You made me happy, but it's not the same.
We're different now.
I need music to reaffirm life, existence itself, even if it reaffirms my life by showing me the dark and sad parts.
I need music to be entertained by, and even to have fun with.
You don't do either of those. You just aren't that band.
Realistically you never were nor will be.
No one would ever describe your music as fun or happy, but that doesn't make you a bad band.
You're a good band on your own terms, but I find myself wanting to listen to you less as time goes on.
Radiohead, you are the literal embodiment of art rock - in the serious, intellectual sense.
I listen to your music like one would stare at pictures in an art exhibition: it can still be affecting, but I wouldn't want to take a copy home with me.
When I listen to Modest Mouse's "Polar Opposites" and Issac Brock sings "I'm trying. I'm trying to drink away the part of the day I cannot sleep away," I know what he's saying.
It touches me, even if it's not how I feel.
When I hear you sing, it's neither fun, nor do I feel any kind of vindication. I feel numb.
Since 1997, your music has become more and more abstract.
That's to say, neither entertaining nor emotionally resonant.
OK Computer used to be my favorite album of all time. Now, it's like listening to the paranoid fears of a media and technology saturated schizophrenic.
I can't take it anymore.
To paraphrase Lester Bangs discussing Miles Davis' "He Loved Him Madly," it's no fun to be told you're dead for a half hour or more at a time.
Do I want to hear your next album? Yes.
Like all music critics, I await it like Pavlov's dog, salivating wildly at the mere ring of a bell.
Music can still be "good" on an objective level, even if on a personal, subjective level it's "bad."
I thought Matchbox 20 was "bad," but objectively I could say it was "good" - well recorded, accomplishes its intent and expresses something.
Yes, Radiohead, you are a unique and influential force in modern music.
But we're just not having fun together, and nothing you say makes me feel anything I desire.
"Climbing Up The Walls" is well recorded, accomplishes its intent and expresses something.
It suffocates me, though, makes me feel like the victim of a serial killer.
Read your lyrics.
Not all art has to be beautiful and happy, but there's no sign of hope anywhere in your music, no solutions offered, no empathy.
Despite having three guitarists, you don't even rock out anymore!
I guess what I'm trying to say, Radiohead, is that we should listen to other bands.
But I still want to be friends.
- Greg Lytle is an IC columnist and a senior majoring in communication.
First, I accidentally crashed my car into a ditch and could have died from it were conditions slightly different.
My sister got married.
I fell in love (you know who you are).
I re-chipped one of my front teeth at Ventura's, which, despite what people tell you, is a terrible Mexican restaurant.
Then, I quit my job at the deli in a small town locally-owned grocery store to work at Claudia's - in the deli.
But none of that has anything to do with our relationship.
Radiohead, you're a great band.
You got me through most of my teenage years and into college.
You've produced consistently good music for almost 10 years now.
I'll always remember the special time we shared.
You were my favorite band. I loved you.
But I'm breaking up with you.
Now look, Radiohead, you're going to make some angst ridden, confused, alienated boy or girl very happy.
You made me happy, but it's not the same.
We're different now.
I need music to reaffirm life, existence itself, even if it reaffirms my life by showing me the dark and sad parts.
I need music to be entertained by, and even to have fun with.
You don't do either of those. You just aren't that band.
Realistically you never were nor will be.
No one would ever describe your music as fun or happy, but that doesn't make you a bad band.
You're a good band on your own terms, but I find myself wanting to listen to you less as time goes on.
Radiohead, you are the literal embodiment of art rock - in the serious, intellectual sense.
I listen to your music like one would stare at pictures in an art exhibition: it can still be affecting, but I wouldn't want to take a copy home with me.
When I listen to Modest Mouse's "Polar Opposites" and Issac Brock sings "I'm trying. I'm trying to drink away the part of the day I cannot sleep away," I know what he's saying.
It touches me, even if it's not how I feel.
When I hear you sing, it's neither fun, nor do I feel any kind of vindication. I feel numb.
Since 1997, your music has become more and more abstract.
That's to say, neither entertaining nor emotionally resonant.
OK Computer used to be my favorite album of all time. Now, it's like listening to the paranoid fears of a media and technology saturated schizophrenic.
I can't take it anymore.
To paraphrase Lester Bangs discussing Miles Davis' "He Loved Him Madly," it's no fun to be told you're dead for a half hour or more at a time.
Do I want to hear your next album? Yes.
Like all music critics, I await it like Pavlov's dog, salivating wildly at the mere ring of a bell.
Music can still be "good" on an objective level, even if on a personal, subjective level it's "bad."
I thought Matchbox 20 was "bad," but objectively I could say it was "good" - well recorded, accomplishes its intent and expresses something.
Yes, Radiohead, you are a unique and influential force in modern music.
But we're just not having fun together, and nothing you say makes me feel anything I desire.
"Climbing Up The Walls" is well recorded, accomplishes its intent and expresses something.
It suffocates me, though, makes me feel like the victim of a serial killer.
Read your lyrics.
Not all art has to be beautiful and happy, but there's no sign of hope anywhere in your music, no solutions offered, no empathy.
Despite having three guitarists, you don't even rock out anymore!
I guess what I'm trying to say, Radiohead, is that we should listen to other bands.
But I still want to be friends.
- Greg Lytle is an IC columnist and a senior majoring in communication.
2008 Woodie Awards