The 500 - #111 - The Bends - Radiohead

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

---

Album: #111
Album Title: The Bends
Artist: Radiohead
Genre: Alt Rock, BritPop, Post Grunge
Recorded: Three London Studios, including Abbey Road

Released: March, 1995
My age at release: 29
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #276, dropping 165 spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Just

To say I was obsessed with Radiohead’s second release, The Bends, would be an overstatement. But, for about six weeks in the summer of 1995, it was a dominant part of my daily soundtrack. That record followed me everywhere, from late-night runs and city drives to the stereo humming in my first solo apartment. It literally arrived at a moment when everything in my life felt unstable and unfinished, but also on the brink of profound transition.

Radiohead in 1995

It was a strange hinge-point. My world was changing and I was trying, often clumsily, to change with it. There was possibility everywhere, but also the unmistakable feeling that I was letting go of things I might never get back. I was turning 30, and from the dramatic heights of that moment (laughable now from the vantage point of 60), it felt like an expiry date. I was convinced I’d aged out of relevance, a relic lingering in a world that had already moved on. That feeling lined up perfectly with The Bends, especially the record's third single release, Fake Plastic Trees. The song’s lyrics and sound captured the weariness and exhaustion of a routine life, without raging against adulthood, just sagging under their combined heft. "Gravity always wins."

The summer of 1995, at a road hockey tournament
 in Victoria Park, London, Ontario.

That summer, I was still working at a bar, slinging drinks and chicken wings, watching the staff skew younger with every passing month. I’d been accepted to Teacher’s College. So it was an exciting time, but that came with so much second guessing. It meant giving up my apartment, draining my savings, and hauling myself from London to Thunder Bay. It meant trading a lucrative, comfortable gig for a flyer on something resembling a real career. What if I failed? What if I didn't fit in the education world? What if this was the moment future-me would point to and say, “That’s where it all went sideways.”

Clearing tables at the bar in 1995.

On top of that, I’d just ended a nine-year relationship. At that time, we both knew that breaking up was the right decision. Neither of us was in a good place to support the other. However, it still felt like I'd cracked my life open on purpose and was convincing myself there was something better waiting for me. Thom Yorke's lyrics from Just, the fourth single on The Bends, always seemed to find the right, fragile moment to remind me that I'd made a grievous error.

That’s where The Bends lived. An album about pressure, dislocation, and the low-grade panic of becoming someone you’re not sure you recognize yet. It didn’t offer answers. Instead, it poked and prodded. It made me question things I thought I’d already decided. Yorke’s voice sounded both accusatory and exhausted, like it was asking whether my new ambitions were salvation or just another reckless gamble.

In those summer weeks, as my move to Thunder Bay drew near,  The Bends simultaneously served dual purposes. It was certainly comforting “escape” music, but also diagnostic. Rogue lyrics seemed to know how to name my anxiety and accompanied my doubt. Yet, somehow, listening to The Bends also made it easier to keep moving. It got me through difficult days, and pushed me onwards.

Packing up for Teacher's College.

From where I sit now, all of that anxiety feels comically ridiculous.  I wasn’t a relic at 30. I wasn’t blowing up my life. I was turning a page...granted, with far more internal drama than the moment required. But maybe that intensity mattered. Maybe taking it all so seriously was the point.

Everything worked out. The move to Thunder Bay led to a career I love. I managed to win the girl back. The risks paid off. And the things I feared I was losing? Most of them were just shedding their earlier shapes. I didn’t know that then. I only knew I was experiencing a dozen conflicting emotions, often in the same day. Fear and excitement, grief and restlessness, doubt fighting with determination, loneliness brushing up against a quiet, stubborn hope, all of it sharpened by a pressure that somehow kept me moving.

That’s why The Bends still makes sense to me. It was a companion at a time when I needed to scare myself into action. Admittedly, I took everything far too seriously then and every choice felt permanent while every potential misstep seemed catastrophic. But maybe that intensity was necessary. Maybe the fear, the pressure, and the overthinking were just the cost of committing fully. In the end, things worked out not in spite of that anxiety, but because of it.

As for that long-ago breakup, after reuniting, we married and we're both Radiohead fans, enjoying several listens to The Bends this past weekend, clearly framing it in a different context -- as an extraodinarily good record.

The 500 - #162 - OK Computer - Radiohead

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

---

Album: #162
Album Title: OK Computer

Artist: Radiohead

Genre: Alternative Rock, Art Rock

Recorded: Three Studios in the London Region of England

Released: May, 1997

My age at release: 31
How familiar was I with it before this week: Quite

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #42, elevating 120 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Paranoid Android

University destroyed my love of reading.

Okay, that is an unfair generalization that lacks subtext. More specifically, a second-year English course at King's College (Western University) called "The Novel" negatively impacted the pleasure I used to get when reading. Since then,  I have struggled to read for pleasure and relaxation.

Silverwood House, on the campus of King's College, Western
University (London, Ontario). My class was in a basement lecture hall.

The trauma came with the pacing of the course, which required students to read, digest, discuss and write about classic works of fiction at breakneck speed. We kicked off September with Don Quixote. Often considered the first modern novel, it is a 1,000-page tome full of rich characters and captivating themes. I was engrossed. However, after four or five classes discussing the Cervantez classic, the professor reminded us that we would be examining Henry Fielding's Tom Jones in two days.

"Two Days?!" I was still highlighting sections from the back half of Quixote! I panicked and that night at a local doughnut shop, fueled by caffeine and nicotine, I hastily began "reading" the comical and romantic adventures of the eponymous hero in this 18th Century picaresque satire. Now, I say "reading", but this was expeditious skimming. I ripped through the 800-plus pages with my highlighter and a copy of Cole's Notes by my side.

NOTE:  Cole's was a Canadian bookstore chain (now absorbed by Indigo Books) that released study guides providing summaries and analysis of literary works. (Some readers may be more familiar with the U.S. equivalent – Cliff’s or Spark’s Notes.)

This is how the rest of the year would go. I wouldn't read the novels on the book list and I certainly did not have time to enjoy Emma, Madame Bovary, Pride and Prejudice, or Anna Karenina. Instead, I  skimmed over these great works of literature, absorbing the basic plot while desperately finding something clever to say or write about each one...always with the help of a Cole's Notes guide by my side. It was the 1980s equivalent of an AI assistant, which I’ll admit I’ve used to help refresh my memory of these iconic novels… Indeed, I had completely forgotten about the term "picaresque satire" -- so don't give me too much credit for dropping that literary gem earlier.

Revisiting OK Computer, the third studio release from British Art Rock band Radiohead, reminded me of a time when I loved to read for pleasure. Specifically, the album's second track, Paranoid Android, took me back to my carefree teens (aged 15-18) when I read voraciously and haunted the city's bookstores and libraries like mullet-haired, phantom philobiblist.

City Lights Book Shop has been a London, Ontario landmark
for 50 years, and I visited it several times a week through my teens.

Paranoid Android was the lead single released from OK Computer, a record that marked a change in the musical direction of Radiohead. Their previous record, 1995's The Bends (#111 on The 500) was more conventional, with a focus on guitar driven tracks that followed a straightforward song structure. The lyrics explored, as was de rigueur at the time, personal, emotional and introspective themes.

Album cover for The Bends (1995).

OK Computer was, by contrast, more experimental. It eschewed conventional song structures and incorporated electronic sounds, complex arrangements imbued with atmospheric soundscapes. The lyrics, while still personal, tackled broader and dystopian themes, including technology, modern life and societal alienation.

Paranoid Android is a six-minute opus comprising sections and was written after songwriter and lead singer Thom Yorke had an unsettling experience in a Los Angeles bar in the mid-90s. The shy and reclusive Yorke was ill-prepared for the stardom that had come with the band's success. Out for a quiet drink, he found himself surrounded by people who were anxious for a conversation and a connection with the "rockstar". In a 2022 interview with Far Out Magazine, Yorke said:

"Everyone was trying to get something out of me. I felt like my own self was collapsing in the presence of it, but I also felt completely, utterly part of it, like it was all going to come crashing down any minute. The people I saw that night were just like demons from another planet.”

The title, Paranoid Android, was taken from a book (and book series) that I loved when I was an avid teen reader -- The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams. The comedic science fiction novel series features a robot named Marvin (The Paranoid Android) who is programmed to provide assistance to crew members aboard the spaceship "The Heart of Gold". However, Marvin was a failed prototype, programmed with a Genuine People Personality (GPP) by fictional Sirius Cybernetics Corporation. The defective “character”  suffers from severe depression and boredom because, in his words, he has a "brain the size of a planet" and is forced to spend his days completing mundane tasks despite having full knowledge of the universe -- including the insignificance of the creatures who inhabit it…carbon based lifeforms from Earth included.

In the early 80s, I read the first three books of the Hitchhiker's Series several times. They were everything my teenage brain wanted in a story -- quirky characters, outrageous humour, relatable themes and imaginative adventure. They were also my unwitting introduction to the philosophies of nihilism and existential absurdism, which came to dominate much of my thinking throughout high-school and my first-year philosophy studies at King's College.

The Hitchhikers Book Series (initially a trilogy in 1983 when I first read them.

Some day, perhaps in retirement, I might take a university course similar to "The Novel", unburdened by twenty-something stresses and anxiety. How marvelous it would be to actually read Tom Jones for enjoyment, although I am uncertain of regaining my passion for fiction. The only fiction books I have read in the past few years were with my middle school students. Much like Marvin, I have been programmed to appreciate fiction for teachable moments or curriculum purposes. I still find myself skimming Young Adult fiction for literacy informed connections I can highlight in class.

Maybe, if there is time before year's end, I can read my Grade 7s The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy...just for fun. No "Quick Writes", "Reader Response Sheets", "Comprehension Questions" or "Essays". Just an absurd story of galactic adventure and a paranoid robot named Marvin.