Hello. I am e.n.d. Once upon a time I came from Minnesota. But then I moved everywhere.
Curiosity didn't kill the cat. Complacency did.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
Texts from Thom Yorke.
How I roll.
Beck and Thom Yorke covering The Velvet Underground’s I’m Set Free.
February 26, 2002 - Los Angeles, CA
I’ve been set free and I’ve been bound
To the memories of yesterday’s clouds
I’ve been set free and I’ve been bound
And now I’m set free
I’m set free
I’m set free to find a new illusion
I’ve been blinded but
Now I can see
What in the world has happened to me
The prince of stories who walks right by me
And now I’m set free
I’m set free
I’m set free to find a new illusion
I’ve been set free and I’ve been bound
Let me tell you people
What I found
I saw my head laughing
Rolling on the ground
And now I’m set free
I’m set free
I’m set free to find a new illusion
Yayayayayayayay! :D :D :D :D :D
I can’t tell you how smiley this made my overly-jetlagged-sleepyhead self tonight. Seeing them still enjoy each other’s company after all of these years is so sweet and nice! What a rad bunch of Oxford homeys.
It also gave me signs of life on the ‘is-Radiohead-going-to-tour-soon-or-at-least-play-a-couple-shows-live-somewhere-sometime?’ paranoid thought path. (I know, I know…hard to believe, but a homegirl had her doubts!). And now, perhaps some live performances aren’t too far off the mark…
This was now just the first time hearing this new track and I like. (I mean, duh. This is Emily you’re reading here :P).
Oh, but make sure not to miss Thom smiling over a a quick positive exchange at the end. He’s actually pleased with the results straight away? A Radiohead happy! :D
*Guten Nacht*
I swear this isn’t a Radiohead blog. It’s just been a week of Radiohead nostalgia.
One of my favorite b-sides. This is the first version.
Originally called “Alligators in New York Cities”, this was written in New York City, partially about New York City. In my ears as I’m leaving to board a plane bound for New York City.
:)
“Anything you want, it can be done now.”
My favorite Radiohead song.
It is timeless. And every line sticks.
In the 16 times I have seen them live, I have never seen them perform this song.
Go figure.
But I have a good story hidden here regarding the samples in this track and a conversation about activism with Thom.
It’s just nostalgia.
I watched this video in bed on my glass-shattered iPhone 3GS nearly every other morning in June of 2009, the year I lived on 18th street in Gramercy Park, Manhattan. A beautiful track they usually have such a hard time playing live - done amazingly well here.
At one point I showed it to a friend of mine after another über late wine-night in NYC. He watched it on my couch six times that morning, horribly hungover in the humidity. He, too, admitted the quality totally sucks but he also said, “it’s a beautiful up-close reality in two minutes. It says a lot about a lot and don’t you love reading into songs like these with your own narrative? It’s a strange kind of fun.”
Completely.
I lived with two other girls in a *tiny* three-bedroom, two-bathroom, 5th floor walk-up of an old Manhattan brick apartment building. We had a “walk-through” kitchen - a pathetically small thing on your way from the front door to the living room with a small fridge, stove and oven that seemed almost make-believe, as if used only by children. We barely cooked. We were bachelorettes in a city with the best take-out ever.
Our apartment was covered, floor-to-ceiling, with exposed brick. If you know me and how obsessed I am with open brick buildings, you will know that my tiny apartment was heaven-in-the-big-apple to me for a year.
The final highlight was our private rooftop deck on top of the building. Only the three of us had access to it from a steep staircase that ran from the side of our living room all the way up to a door in the ceiling. We also had awesome sky windows where we could see through to where the deck was from inside. Windows that tempted you to take your life outside everyday.
Having a bit of private outdoor space in Manhattan is one of the only things that keeps people sane in that city. Doing yoga a couple times a week up there solo helped even more.
But what was a different kind of nice was the number of cocktails we’d have until the wee hours of the morning up there.
Our guests and us would wake up, sometimes hungover. And I’d watch this video. And then I’d do it all over again. Until I left.
Going back for another visit on Friday.
Two years later, I am now on my third shattered iPhone.
I think I’m onto something…
Like every Radiohead album, I highly anticipated the release of Amnesiac. I mean the nervously-walking-around-in-circles-the-last-days-leading-up, pacing-back-and-forth, over-analyzing-the-list-of-tracks-that-made-it-on, how-they-would-sound-and-if-I-would-become-obsessed-again-or-only-just-‘really like them’-kind of anticipation.
It came out ten years ago yesterday, hence this post.
I know what you’re thinking: ‘whoa’. But it was Radiohead and already nearly a decade of my political, economic, and geo-social development that I can partially attribute to them (but mostly my parents and a few amazing professors).
Released only eight months earlier, I was not even full from my daily dose of Kid A on repeat. I mean, it was too soon to firmly ask the question then but some people were quietly thinking, “How are these Oxford homeys even going to come close to following-up that album with something awesome again?”
I wasn’t one of these people.
Now imagine being abroad, fucking far from the ease of knowing US record release dates and purchase locations. Traveling between continents, having to guess between international time zones and dates when you’d be able to pick up your copy…in CD format of course.
My Sony Discman was getting hungry. I was motherfucking starving.
I had been in South Africa the month leading up to Amnesiac’s release. On a research trip to analyze ‘Post-Apartheid Nation Building’, my head hurt and my mind was blown after we had interviewed, studied and analyzed activists and victims of a nation I only started to get to know. (I moved there a year later). I was only focused on the depths of that research during the entire trip. But upon our departure, I was hungry for the new politically infused-Radiohead that awaited me.
On the way home, the only time I didn’t dwell on the fact that I’d soon be listening to what was sure to be a badass album, was when I was in the cockpit of the 747, flying back to Amsterdam over North Africa. (This was three months before 9/11. I met a stranger on the plane who flew this route often. A Dutch descendant living in South Africa who knew the pilot and pulled some strings. That on it’s own was amazing and beautiful experience. Separate post coming later).
Upon our descent into Amsterdam, after 11+ hours of flying, I remembered my mission upon landing for our layover there. I was not about to wait 35 more hours until I got to the States to find my first copy.
Hell naw.
Exited the aircraft. Dropped my backpack sans wallet with our research group. And bolted to the information desk.
“I’ve got 35 hours but where can I buy a new CD *now*?”
Got my location, ran to the general music/media/magazine store at the airport and what did I see?
Goddamn right.
Bought. Owned. Stared at the plastic case. Unsleeved it. Read everything as I walked back to the group only to quickly pause and say I’d be back in some hours.
Found a quiet bench by myself facing the runway. Popped it in carefully (no scratches, please!) and played it on repeat more times than you or I can count.
It might be an underdog but it’s another beautiful political, economic, philosophical reminder that they care about another world they could easily forget due to their faculties and success. I told this to Thom four times before this moment. But it seemed truer even then.
Two months later my Mom flew her and I to Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio to see Radiohead live together for the first time, on the Amnesiac tour. When Thom played a piano-solo version of ‘Like Spinning Plates’, we both cried a bit together.
I told her that track was about Patrice Lumumba and Mobutu in the Congo. But she already knew because I had told her before on the plane ride over.
:)
“We ride tonight.
We ride tonight.
Ghost horses.
Ghost horses.
Ghost horses.”
It’s also the lyrics. The best track on The Eraser.
Seeing Thom play this live as a piano solo three years ago in Los Angeles meant…no dry eyes for me:
“Try to save your house
Try to save your songs.
Try to run.
But it follows you up a hill.
It’s all boiling over.
All boiling over.
Your little voice.
Your little voice.
No more conversation.
No more conversation.
You should’ve took me out when you had the chance .
You should’ve took me out when you had the chance.”
ario:
Thom Yorke (Radiohead) Cymbal Rush (live) (by thehungover)
One of my favorite Radiohead remixes ever.
The transitions are fantastic.
Was (and still is) my San Francisco walking track.
Monday you hit like a hammer. This track is my pacifier.
“This is where we came in. So we’re going back again.”
A deck-dancing Thom Yorke. A smiling Flying Lotus. And some DOOM from the speakers.
What.
Slam.
(Thanks as always to link-master-Mike)
This is for today, Thursday.
I know what you’re thinking,
but I’m not your property.
No matter what you say.
No matter what you say.
- Radiohead, Gagging Order
I am such a tease and you are such a flirt.
Radiohead, Little By Little - The King of Limbs
When I was 16, I was doing bad in school and hanging out with “the wrong crowd”. As the school threatened to kick me out, my parents decided it would be a good idea for my Mom to take me on a business trip with her to New Orleans to get some perspective and make a decision about my future.
On one of my many solo-angsty walks, I found a record shop that specialized in CD singles and brit-pop bands. I bought the Fake Plastic Trees single.
Took a long walk back through the French Quarter in the dark while Mom was at a business dinner. Went to the pool inside our hotel’s courtyard, rolled up my jeans, laid on the concrete, stared at the sky, lit a cigarette, dipped my feet in, and played these b-sides over and over. Nothing like hearing new music for the first time.
I saw Radiohead live again for the second time a week later. This was April, 1996.
Two months later, I managed to get my shit together, started doing better in school, and graduated on time the following year.
“I don’t want you. I don’t want you, anymore.”
