Word: thoms
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...horn section. The grinding drums and bass are anchored in what is ultimately recognizable as good old-fashioned rock-sensibility, despite the otherworldly wailings of whatever that new-fangled spooky sounding instrument Jonny Greenwood is playing these days. The song could never be straight-up however, and Thom Yorke’s distorted wailings and pantings ensure that it will not be mistaken for such. In fact, it is Yorke’s manic, disconcerting energy that carries much of the album, and gives the two slower songs their subtle bite when he lets his ridiculously, stunningly beautiful voice soar...
...only contemporary rock act that matters, but its ambition often comes at the expense of warmth; the average Radiohead record is about as sweet as barbed wire. When live, however, the band opens up. The bells, whistles and scratches that dominated Kid A and Amnesiac are still there, but Thom Yorke's tenor is allowed to soar above rather than fight through them, revealing melodies in unexpected places. This set also includes the lovely True Love Waits, with its aching, Sarah McLachlan-esque chorus, "Just don't leave." What's next? A cuddly Rumsfeld...
...about twenty years old but as timely as ever given recent events. They’re also reading Forrest Hamer, Gwendolyn Brooks, Sam Witt, and Claudia Rankine. And I give them weekly hand-outs. This week it’s elegies by Walt Whitman, W. B. Yeats, and Thom Gunn...
...hearing as well: “Space has eaten up your face / You won’t need it anyway.” At their best, on “Wings of Light,” they sound like your little brother’s band trying to be Thom Yorke. “100,000 Telescopes” is such a long, irredeemable drone that it feels akin to being hit with said telescopes: “And the flowers grow from nowhere / And the monsters stay in line,” is more or less representative of their...
...five college dropouts, all under the age of 23, have been hailed by NME as “the Saviours of Rock and Roll,” lauded by Rolling Stone and mobbed across the sea by a slew of British fans including the likes of Kate Moss and Thom Yorke. With a look more Welcome Back Kotter than laundry-hamper New Wave and a refreshing fuck-you nonchalance, the Strokes serve as a more-than-welcome respite from the onslaught of top-40 politically-correct cookie-cutter boy bands aimed at the screaming pre-teen...