Instant Karma (Police) Is Gonna Get You

Released in 1997, Radiohead's Okay Computer is generally acknowledged to be among the best albums of the late twentieth century, a commercial and critical success that established Radiohead as one of the biggest bands in the world. That makes saying anything new or insightful about the album almost impossible. Really, the only question left is whether or not Okay Computer stands the test of time: is it still lyrically, musically, and conceptually relevant, even 15 years later?

For me, the answer is yes, though a qualified yes. What makes Okay Computer an album in the best sense of the word is its overarching theme--the big idea, as in Sgt. Pepper's conceit of an aging band getting back together for one last gig. The big idea of Okay Computer is less easily defined, but is arguably the alienation of modern life. Everything about the album is disconnected: Yorke's disembodied voice floats over layers and layers of cold, synthetic sound; the lyrics are fragmented, associative, and finally evasive, as Yorke examines the many ways of not knowing one another. The theme is perhaps best expressed in "Let Down," which seems to blame modern technology as the source of our alienation:

Transport, motorways and tram lines
Starting and then stopping, taking off and landing
The emptiest of feelings disappointed people clinging onto bottles and
When it comes its so so disappointing

Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground
Let down and hanging around

Does this kind of technological angst still register in 2011? Of course, though our iPads and the Web have closed the distance between us, as this deathmatch illustrates, and "taking off and landing" allows us to visit our relatives many time zones away in a matter of hours. So if Okay Computer does have a shelf life for me personally, it may be its central argument--that we are removed, irreparably, from one another. As a 40-year-old father of two, I am a bit more optimistic about human connectedness than I was at 25 when Okay Computer was released. And I do tire of Yorke's self-important whinging: my 40-year-old self wants to kick him in the seat of his pants and tell him to buck up. In fact, I might be willing to knock Okay Computer out of the running, if it weren't for the lasting power of "Karma Police."



This song, for me, is about as close to perfection as it gets. The melody is haunting, and the bridge ("For a minute there . . .") still moves me, even after hundreds of listens. Just a couple of years ago, I heard a student playing this song on an acoustic guitar in our student union, and I was amazed by its power. And that is why I pick Radiohead for round 1.

As for Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, I dug them. For a big 11-piece getup, they have a remarkably tight sound. They remind me of a slightly rawer Arcade Fire. They're the kind of band I would love to hear live--lots of energy and memorable melodies (I love "Home" and "40-day Dream.") And the overall feel is upbeat and optimistic. But they just aren't on the same plane as Radiohead--and certainly not Radiohead at its very best.