Reviewing Radiohead - Pablo Honey (1993)

A baby's face inside a flower

I've been listening to Radiohead for a while - according to my music stats, they are my most listened-to artist - and so it's right that I discuss their albums thoroughly. It's only proper to thus begin with Pablo Honey (linked), their often derided debut.

At this point, Radiohead worshipped alternative rock and grunge bands, like Pixies and Nirvana, and Pablo Honey came out right when distorted guitars and moody lyrics were at their peak - in fact, Nirvana were working on In Utero when Pablo was released. 

All the evidence points to this album being made by a bunch of lads from Oxford for fun - the title comes from a comedy sketch, and the album art looks like a school project. Combined with the fact that it's their debut album, it would be really harsh to dismiss Radiohead if you only ever listened to Pablo Honey, or its singles (which are in bold), for that matter.

Not that the songs themselves aren't bad, though. There are various highlights scattered here and there, and whilst I may be distant in terms of the historical context of the album, it's worth pointing them out regardless. 

I'll stop being egotisitical, now, and talk about You instead. The song opens with delightful playing by guitarist Jonny Greenwood, which soon gets distorted as Thom Yorke sings about placing all of his faith into one person - I'm not sure how necessary the scream was, though. Phil Selway's drumming is fantastic on this track, and I like how the guitars alternate between noise and jangle, but otherwise it's rather standard - a decent way to open a debut album, either way.

It's the second song, though, that became arguably Radiohead's biggest hit. I don't think Creep deserves that accolade, though; the song only really comes to life when Jonny plays the guitar crunch, and the chorus arrives - untriumphant, admittedly. However, I'm partial for the piano at the end of the track, and for Yorke's vocals, especially his final lines of "I don't belong here"; almost whimpered, it's simple yet emotionally affective. I do like Creep, though, even if I object to its popularity.

How Do You? is next, powered by immense punky feedback and Yorke's sneering vocals. It's a pleasant song, almost Buzzcocks-like, though I'm confused why they decided to add a piano at the end, it doesn't add much and sounds silly. Considering the meandering start to the album, I'm happy to get a more energetic track. 

Stop Whispering is quite different - five minutes long, metronomic drumming, and a lovely guitar riff, which hint well at their future albums. The song continuously builds up to a climax, which finally arrives as Yorke obeys the song's title and the instruments get more chaotic, the drumming is more free and the feedback riots before fading out. Whilst I like the song, I also feel like more could have been done with it - the ending isn't as satisfying as I would have hoped for. It's unfortunate that they haven't played the song live in almost thirty years, as I reckon it would sound fantastic in a large arena.

Thinking About You is sweetly acoustic with a lovely touch of organ, though the lyrics are debateable at times. It demonstrates how versatile Radiohead can be in their music. Anyone Can Play Guitar does not. It starts with a wave of crashing feedback, with a nice bassline by Colin Greenwood to boot. Everyone plays the guitar here, even Selway who puts in a great drumming performance. However, the song itself sounds like a soundtrack to a kids' show, and it's slightly generic sounding as a consequence. The lyrics don't help either, especially as they satirise new rock bands - like themselves - though they do reveal that Yorke wanted to be like Jim Morrison (the music is nothing like the Doors). It's possibly the weakest link in the album to this point.

Ripcord's production is somewhat dated, but the song itself is a blend of jangle and grunge; the first three seconds, before the distortion kicks in, are wonderful and took me off guard. It's okay, nothing all too spectacular. Vegetable has a similar aesthetic, though it appeals more to me. It has a tinge of wistfulness, with great guitar riffs and powerful (backing) vocals that make it a more fruitful endeavour. Unfortunately, it's not been played live since 1995.

Prove Yourself is a quick noise-filled ditty that doesn't particularly stand out, though it does have a great guitar solo and drumming during the bridge. It's also the fourth song with the title in second person; from here, there are only two more such songs in Radiohead's entire discography. I Can't is a similar affair, with slight ballad overtones that sound pleasant but don't really do much for me - that is, until the outro, which starts off with a lovely drum fill and goes on for a minute, with a solo to boot; if only it went on for longer.

Lurgee is a slow-paced uplifting track which doesn't go anywhere really - it's the same melody played for nearly three minutes before coming to an abrupt end, and as such is probably my least favourite on the album. Blow Out is the closing song, and starts off with lovely bass and guitar which is somewhat post-punk like, before a deluge of noise smothers the track but maintaining it's off-kilter dance vibe. It then gets more fast-paced, the guitars get more frantic, and a hazy, almost sirenic drone clouds the rest of the song as Selway drums brilliantly, before it all fades away and the album ends. It's the most experimental Radiohead get on this album, and it makes for a decent track.

Pablo Honey has been maligned by the band, but I think it's an alright first effort. It starts off strong, but then moves through various tracks that aren't particularly interesting, occasionally hitting an overlooked gem. It's not their peak, but many of the songs are fantastic and it doesn't deserve to be considered "the Creep album" as I'm sure many do. Things will only get better from hereon in.

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