MUSIC Radiohead: The Best of Radiohead is not so much a band as an experiment: an ambitious effort to redefine sound, their sound, into music wholly original and unpredictable—highly experimental, yet grounded, accessible. And they have succeeded, are succeeding at this. Radiohead is as inscrutable as it is obvious, as sublime as it is paranoid and hysterical. It has put out albums that are brutally literal and almost conventional in their intentions and effects—Pablo Honey, The Bends (about a third of it, at least)—and it has produced sonic explorations shot full of kaleidoscopic musical swoopings and swoonings from a high-wire act that is trembling and quaking in the wind, no net of course—cf., OK Computer and Kid A, two albums that are clearly not conventional. Their music is off putting, at times, and overly theatrical; and yet brilliantly charming and tender and seductive. Their music is off putting, at times, and overly theatrical; and yet brilliantly charming and tender and seductive. Radiohead has spurned beauty, however we define it, in its music nearly as often as it has embraced heartbreaking and aching melodies too seemingly simple to come from this most enigmatic and experimental of bands (but not experiment for its own sake, no doubt about that.) Thom Yorke’s voice is both keening and tender; haunted and carefree. Yorke’s voice itself is a perpetual high wire act. Is Radiohead really even a band (see above)? Nominally, of course. But even to call them a band somehow detracts from their collective spirit, their unique and ghostly assemblage of sensibilities, most notably embodied by Thom Yorke—imp, banshee, little boy lost, genius. Really, they are an amalgam of disparate but compatible musical instincts, and not only in the sounds they entice from some seemingly soul-purchased genie bottle, but increasingly in the business decisions they've made regarding how their music is distributed—in these ways, Radiohead is simply defining a new category of musician and musicianship. And the category has no name and probably never will and we'd reject it, rightly, if it did. So where’s this all going? Here: EMI’s forthcoming release Radiohead: The Best of is slated to drop in early June. Given the preface to this “review,” is it likely that this reviewer would have a strong response to a Radiohead greatest hits, so to speak? Of course not. Radiohead has had hits in its career, especially early on with Creep, later with Fake Plastic Trees and Paranoid Android. But Radiohead is not a greatest hits band; it’s not even a singles band. With the exception perhaps of its first two LPs—Pablo Honey (1993); The Bends (1995)—their albums simply don’t work (read: don’t make sense) unless heard in their entirety. Even then they require an effort from the listener, and “getting it,” whatever exactly that means, usually does mean multiple listens. Now, there’s no fault here with EMI, Radiohead’s recording label until recently—when the band severed ties with the industry in general and released In Rainbows (in my top five music list for 2007) directly through the web, pay what you think it’s worth. EMI supported and (perhaps) nurtured the band’s work until In Rainbows, so it has every right, and lots of reasons, to release the “best of” now. As to the reasons, aside from lucre, a Radiohead greatest hits may entice listeners to the band, and some of these individuals may begin an exploration of the band that takes them to the music in totality. That would be a good thing. And, truth be told, you could own Radiohead: The Best of and be quite contented listening to Creep or No Surprises or Anyone Can Play Guitar or Fake Plastic Trees, all “greatest hits” in EMI’s view. So, let’s hope it drives listeners to Radiohead’s entire catalogue. Everything selected for this release, despite what I’ve said, is a greatest hit, in its peculiar way. Or I should say, a great song (but then “great” is nearly pejorative here because much of the work is too enigmatic to be considered good or bad, much less great.) EMI, though, on balance, has done us a favor. The band might disagree. But if you have to start in the middle with Radiohead, so to speak, start here. Then listen to OK Computer, one of the most troubling and compelling and confounding albums of the last 20 years. From there, I suspect, if you’re open to it, you’ll be “all in” on the group and will hear for yourself the unnerving, spectral sounds of Kid A, a jolting musical achievement. And then others. EMI is issuing “the best of” on two discs, at least in one release version. [N.B., full release includes limited edition 2-CD, and quadruple vinyl and digital editions.] Its song selection is just about right; surely one disc would be a kind of assault against the band. What Radiohead releases in the future is likely to be distributed simultaneously via the web and more traditional outlets, but not through a major label. EMI’s release represents a kind of send off for the band and, importantly, is at least a nod, and perhaps a bow, to Radiohead's accomplishments. In its way, it’s a tribute to a band that’s not really a band. TOP