Radiohead's Kid A, 20 Years On: A Sign of the Times Ahead

So, it’s been 20 years and I still won’t shut the f*ck up about Kid A. The Kid A story begins by going back before it even existed. Radiohead’s fourth studio album came at at a watershed moment in Radiohead’s career. After their breakout success with “Creep”, and subsequently being jaded by fame early in their careers, Thom Yorke and co. released The Bends to warm critical reviews and amassed a wide fan base. The Bends, as exceptional as it is, was merely a picture of a band brimming with creativity and brilliance that hadn’t quite spilled over. The creative floodgates opened in 1997, when Radiohead released OK Computer, an artistic, futuristic, technologically-tinged rock opus that leaves even the most discerning and contemporary listeners floored by its multitude of great songs. The confluence of technology, humanism, and anxiety hadn’t gone quite as mainstream before, and music would never be the same in its wake. Three years, a documentary about Yorke’s infamous hatred of touring and Radiohead reaping the rewards of their hard work, and a rabid international following that landed them on every major late night television show, and it goes without saying that Radiohead were in top of the world. However, Radiohead wanted nothing to do with this world, and sought about reinventing themselves in a monumental way.

Image via

It’s the year 2000. We’ve survived Y2K, denim is in, and Britney Spears and N-Sync are enjoying the remaining moments of their hay-day. More importantly however, a tech bro begins a music downloading software called Knapster, and almost overnight, the slow transition out of paid-for albums begins. Just as this is all happening, Radiohead releases Kid A. In it, they’ve abandoned the typical song structures of their previous three albums for ambience and texture, replacing the guitar with a Moog synth, and incorporating wide-ranging sonic elements like straight-up computer sounds and a full orchestra courtesy of Jonny Greenwood.

To say the album was significant is a tremendous understatement. It debuted at or near the top of the charts both domestically and globally, and was received warmly among critics. Many were bewildered by the strange and ominous direction Radiohead was going on. Some believed it to be a welcome transition from the technological pessimism of their previous album for a more avant-garde and dissonant style. Others longed for the earlier Radiohead, several reviewers finding some of the songs, especially “Idioteque” to be too grating for mainstream audiences. Regardless of the differing views, the album was significant because it was one of the very first albums to be pirated through the Knapster file format. People could download songs like “Everything In It’s Right Place” while disregarding ambient interludes like “Treefingers”. Though I’d clearly rather be listening to a song rather than a piece, I think many people who cherry-pick Kid A for its individual songs don’t have their finger on the pulse of what makes the album so fantastic to listen to.

Image via

I’ll now spend a paragraph going off about the contents of the album, and hopefully convince you why it’s an album that should be listened to in it’s entirety. Sorry, not sorry. “Everything In It’s Right Place” begins with an iconic keyboard line. It’s become one of RH’s most beloved songs because it builds slowly and has a satisfying resolution and denouement and I could listen to a million times and still come back to it as though it were my first time hearing the song. It’s followed by the marching of the ambient track “Kid A”, which doesn’t really have lyrics per se, but is an enjoyable and welcome respite from the intensity of the opener. “The National Anthem” is driven by a rocking bass line, and the song descends into chaos with the sound of horns getting louder and more dissonant. The intensity of the horns transition into the lovely and sad “How to Disappear Completely”. If you haven’t felt anything since quarantine began, listen to this song and get back to me. It’s one of my personal favorites, intertwining both an orchestra and synths in a way that makes them sound singular. It’s probably the song most similar to any on Ok Computer, yet its beauty and sadness stem not from the lyrics, which are often opaque and not quite as literal as those on OC, but rather from sadness in Yorke’s vocal performance. “Treefingers”, the ambient piece I mentioned before, in my opinion is perfectly place after this intense 8-minute emotional rollercoaster. It allows the listener to hang in emptiness in an almost meditative state for a few minutes before the album continues. So concludes the first half of the album. “Idioteque”, which stands among the most unique songs I’ve ever heard, twitches and pulses with Thom Yorke’s high-pitched singing, in an almost frantic style. It’s followed by the “In Limbo”, an ocean of descending arpeggios that many consider to be something of a “throwaway” song on the album. Once again, I think it’s fantastic, and essential to the experience of Kid A. The final two songs, the beautifully sad “The National Anthem”, and an ethereal soundscape “Untitled”, bring the album to a close. It is approximately 40 minutes of musical perfection, and one of the albums that I keep going back to know matter how many times I’ve listened to it.

Featured Image via