Extra Introspection: King of Limbs Review

I guess now’s as good a time as ever to open a new running segment I’ve been planning for a while, but hadn’t had the opportunity: “Extra Introspection”. Basically, whenever one of us here posts an article that receives a massive amount of backlash or criticism (or merely a ton of questions that provoke discussion), the author of the article has to respond to the criticism as best as he or she can by answering to each point brought up by the readers/viewers. It’s always good to get opposing viewpoints, and if any opinion here can’t stand up to scrutiny, it shouldn’t have been posted.


Turns out I’m the first to be tested. On Wednesday, I posted my review of Radiohead’s latest album: The King of Limbs. I knew from the beginning I wasn’t going to make any fans for this one, but I couldn’t have foreseen the passionate responses by Radiohead fans on Facebook and the article itself. I don’t want anyone to feel as if their voice wasn’t heard, and after taking everything into consideration, I’ve decided to write this article. I’m going to deal with every criticism given to it, beginning with some minor misconceptions and working towards the biggest ones at the end. Questions will be in bold (paraphrased for simpler digestion) with my responses right below them.


Okay? Okay. Let’s do this.


Why did you bring up Creep? Radiohead hates Creep.


This was probably the weirdest note I got. I know Radiohead hates Creep. It’s irrelevant. Its only purpose in the article was to explain my limited background with the band while explaining their lack of mainstream relevance recently. Whether the band hates Creep or not, most people who only have a cursory knowledge of Radiohead knows the song, and it’s their last song to be a massive hit in the United States. Which reminds me…


Radiohead does have mainstream relevance. Look at their album sales!


Yeah, I know the album premiered at #3 on the Billboard Hot 200; I didn’t include that in the original article because I didn’t think it was necessary (though I did edit it in later when I saw people didn’t understand why I didn’t include it). If you look at the musical spectrum when the album premiered, it’s status at #3 makes a lot of sense. Each of their independently produced albums has premiered during a weaker sales period, and each has had significant drop-off after the first week of sales. Basically, those who love Radiohead buy the album right away, and that’s about it. It’s a misleading statistic, and I don’t think it’s indicative of any mainstream relevance. Most people haven’t heard the album or any other recent music by Radiohead; I’ll stand by that statement, and I don’t think the stat here takes away from it.


Oh, and before you ask, I’m aware they’ve also had a ton of critical praise. There’s a massive disconnect between the critics and the fans in any medium, and music is probably the worst at this. The second Facebook comment pointed out that Rolling Stone, the magazine most readily associated with music, has no idea what they’re doing. Critical praise is not equal to mainstream relevance. Maybe that’s a shame, but for now, it’s definitely true.


But they’re so talented as musicians!


Yes, they are. They’re incredible musicians, and I don’t think there are any bands out there that could replicate what they do. In fact I said as much in my actual review:


“they know how to put together a musically impressive melody”


“I know for a fact that Radiohead are incredibly talented musicians. To make the music they do requires a high level of talent that very few bands can replicate”


Forget what I said earlier; this was the weirdest criticism I got. Not sure what was unclear about my statements above, but I’ll say it again: Radiohead is incredibly talented. This actually coincides with the next criticism:


If you listen to more of their music…


I’m going to stop you there. This isn’t a review of Radiohead as a band. If it was, I would definitely point out their growth as musicians, spend much more time investigating the causes of their exploration of private publishing, and give the band a ton of credit for staying true to their own desires without ever having to sell out (I’ll take Radiohead over any sell out, regardless of talent, any day), but that wasn’t the goal. In these album reviews, I’m doing just that, reviewing the album. Their place in Radiohead lore is only background; every album is the first album to someone, and as such, each album must stand on its own without first examining previous albums. For example, one of my next reviews is Rise Against’s newest album “Endgame”. I’ve spent a ton of time listening to Rise Against’s music (you could safely call me a fan), but while I may draw a few comparisons, my focus is to play the “every man” and see how the album stands up on its own merit (spoiler alert: not as well as I’d hoped).


I appreciate the sentiment, and I get the natural tendency to say, “But if you listen to the other albums, you’ll get their transition as a band”. That may be so, but it isn’t fair to judge an album based on factors outside of the actual album. Which reminds me…


They’re just sticking true to their fan base. True fans are the only ones that matter.


We’ll have to agree to disagree. I think any time a band passes up the opportunity to welcome new potential fans into the fold, providing they don’t have to sell out to do it, they’re wasting that opportunity. I went into this album with high expectations really wanting to enjoy it. By the simple nature of their music, it was nearly impossible for me to do so from the get-go (I’m working to that; don’t worry).


There’s a difference between being true to your music and alienating those that haven’t been around since the beginning. It’s an admittedly fine line, but my assessment is that Radiohead is on the latter side of the fence. I wanted to become a true fan, and that’s the flaw with saying bands should only care about the fans they already have. Why waste a chance to make new fans with an appreciation for your music?


And I’ll address this directly to the Radiohead fans: is this really all you wanted from this album? Eight songs at a paltry 37 minute running time with very impressive but very similar themes and musical stylings? I mean, that’s fine if that’s all you want, but if my favorite band released an album with only eight songs on it, I’d feel as if I didn’t get my money’s worth. Oh yeah, I almost forgot…


But the album does shift! Look at the tempo shifts between songs again. You can’t really say there isn’t any change between any of the songs on the album.


I have a feeling a lot of this comes from my comparison between Radiohead and Muse, so I’ll throw this criticism up here as well…


You can’t compare Radiohead and Muse! They’re completely different!


This is a comparison that I took from several Radiohead fans who happened to discover I listened to Muse (because I listen to Muse a lot) and proceeded to give me crap for it. Their argument was that I was listening to a poor man’s Radiohead (I disagree), and I’ve seen similar arguments on Muse and Radiohead forums. 


The divide of people reading this article was split, however. Some noticed some similar musical stylings and a prevalent use of falsetto by the lead singer, and others said there was no connection between the two and seemed adamant enough that I feel a need to clean up what I was trying to say in my comparison. 


Yes, I will admit, the songs change in distinct ways from one song to the next. The best example was provided to me on Facebook (he compared Feral, the fourth track on the album, to Give Up the Ghost, the seventh track), and upon this isolated listen, I agree wholeheartedly that there are some differences. However, I didn’t listen to it in isolation like this. I listened to the album as a whole, start to finish, every time. I’m reviewing albums here, and as such, I don’t like listening to single songs because the cohesiveness of the album is a factor I take into consideration in my review (I give Radiohead a lot of credit in this as, like I said in my review, this does feel like an album more than most albums released in recent history, and I’ll tip my hat for that). 


My point was that if you listen to the album as a whole, this change is very gradual to the point where I didn’t even recognize it was happening despite having listened to the album several times. This brings me back to my comparison with Muse. With Radiohead, there’s no point at which I thought to myself, ‘Wow, they’re doing something very new and different from what I’ve already heard on this album.’ Nothing stood out as a memorable moment to me while listening to it. Compare that with Muse’s Black Holes and Revelations album, which has the two songs I referenced yesterday right next to each other. The juxtaposition draws one in and really stands out as a powerful moment on the album given each song’s thematic importance.


When I said I wanted a “faster, more upbeat song”, what I meant (and about which I admittedly should have been far more clear) was that I wished there was a moment of juxtaposition that stood out to me. A single moment of abrupt change in style or tone would have done A LOT to raise my opinion of the album, and given its brevity, I don’t see why Radiohead couldn’t have done this. And like that, we’re at the final point. This was done so eloquently that I’m going to post the response verbatim, because my paraphrasing won’t do it justice.


It’s called Post-Modernism. If they gave you a clear-cut emotion and meaning, they wouldn’t be doing their job right. No one ever said art had to explain what it was about, or even that you had to like it. That “complex nothingness” you were talking about is the very foundation of modern art and philosophy. Nothing is ever actually as simple as it appears to be.

I think you might have meant to say that you wish their music was a little more intelligible to those who aren’t familiar with Radiohead’s unusual stylings. They tend to do anything they can to defy classification, and this scares off those listeners who rely on being able to immediately extract a meaning, texture, and emotion from a song in order to appreciate it.


I’m going to flat-out say it: I don’t understand this philosophy at all. That doesn’t mean I don’t have an appreciation for it; those who nodded their head after reading those two paragraphs get all of my respect for understanding what he’s saying and having it provide meaning in your appreciation of art. I may know what he’s saying, but I can honestly say I don’t “get it”.


Here are my issues with this thinking: why is it bad to get a clear-cut emotion from music? I am aware they’re not trying to give me one, but I don’t know why certain schools of art have lost the desire to move people the way they have for centuries, but this is probably the biggest reason why I reviewed this album in the first place. 


As I said before, this isn’t what I think music is about. I love when music makes me feel something. I love getting psyched up by battle anthems like Saliva’s Ladies and Gentleman. I love empathizing with the tragic tales provided in songs like 30 Seconds to Mars’ Buddha for Mary. I love losing my mind in a song like Senses Fail’s All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues. The songs to which I listen most frequently all make me feel something powerful, and when I listen to them, it has a profound effect on me.


What’s so bad about that? Why is moving people “not doing your job right”? As an English major, the best comparison I can make is comparing something like Joseph Heller’s Catch-22 with James Joyce’s The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Both are stream of consciousness novels with a lot of symbolism behind them, but Heller provides you with a great story that can give you enjoyment on the surface if you don’t get the hidden meaning right away, whereas Joyce forces the reader to work for every ounce of understanding. And yet when I compare people’s writing to Joyce, they take it as a compliment. I just don’t get it.


The best part about this is I don’t have to. As I’ve said earlier, I’m taking the point of view of the “every man” in these reviews, and as several diehard Radiohead fans stated, Radiohead doesn’t care. They’re making music for themselves and their “true fans”. If that’s what they want, then perfect. I’m happy for them, and far happier with them than any band that sells out or is just plain bad (I still listen to this album and feel like I’m listening to the embodiment of nothing, but I’d take well crafted nothing over a lot of what’s out there in music right now, and I think Radiohead fans will be pleasantly surprised when I do my “end of” rankings later this year).


But for the every man? I stick to my judgment. I can’t recommend it to anyone that isn’t a Radiohead fan or really into chill, post-modernist music. And let’s face it: if either of these facts are true, you’ve bought this album, listened to it countless times, and dedicated a shrine to them in their honor (ok, maybe not the last one). I still think it’s too short, but none of the fans seemed to mind, so I guess if you guys don’t care, why should I?


So that’s my reasoning behind all of the comments I made. I stand by my article on these points, but I’m perfectly fine if you still disagree, though hopefully my point of view has been made far more clear.


On a final note: thanks to all of the Radiohead fans who submitted comments. I know no one likes watching people give a mediocre review of a band they really like, but all of you were incredibly civil in your arguments and provided a lot of reasoning as to why you felt the way you do, which is quite rare on the internet. As always, I love getting feedback, as it helps me do my job better in the future. 


My utmost respect goes out to Radiohead and their fans, even if I’m not one of them.


Oh, and before I forget, I feel as if this bonus question is necessary:


What the hell is up with your screen name?


I’ve gotten some flak for this in the past, and I think it’s finally time to reveal the origin of “Marist Play Boy”. See, when I was in high school (Marist School, to be precise), my friend Kyle used to make fun of me for being such a theatre kid. As I auditioned for what would by my fourth show of my sophomore year, he accidentally called me a “play boy”, and hilarity ensued. Another friend of mine overheard this,  and when I was setting up my gamertag for Xbox Live, she made it my screen name while I was upstairs getting myself a glass of water. When I came down, I figured I had two choices: 1) Change it and be a Debbie Downer or 2) Embrace the obvious stupidity of being a man with absolutely no game being called a “Play Boy”. For coherence sake, I just use it for everything now, and this blog is no exception. Yeah, it’s stupid, and you can make fun of me for it if you want, but it’s mine, and I’ll stand by it. I’m stubborn like that :P.