Thom Yorke: Saving the Galaxy One Planet at a Time
Yorke appears to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders at the moment
| 15 Jul 2006
What's NOT eating Thom Yorke? The apologetic manner in which he announced the release of an album of solo material ('The Eraser') was entirely in keeping with the reticent nature of this reluctant superstar, the timing neatly coinciding with the genesis of the Radiohead tour so as to allay genuine fears that the 20-million selling band might be derailing itself.
However, Yorke's artistic twitch was turning into a full spasm as consistent delays in recording new material led him to lock himself away with his laptop, something he'd "wanted to do for ages."
"Radiohead was getting boring. But it's not a solo album, it would demand that I'd walked away from the Radiohead thing, which I haven't. You could call it a side project, that would make more sense."
Yorke's demons are more than personal, far from navel-gazing; he appears to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders at times. 'The Eraser' seems to represent just how heavy that burden can be. A cynic might be tempted to dismiss his environmental crusade as yet another rock star hobby, but Yorke seems genuinely distressed at current events.
"When I was writing the album, I had just become heavily involved with Friends of the Earth (an international network of environmental organizations). The initial International Panel on Climate Change report had just come out, The Clock (song three of the album) was borne out of the anger of watching heads of state around the world saying 'yes we really must do something about this, meanwhile, here are the latest growth figures!' The most frightening thing I find about what's going on at the moment is that no one is engaging with the fact that we can't have endless growth. This is no longer about 'smelly hippies', anybody who's got time to think about it, should be thinking 'hang on a minute, there's something fundamentally flawed in the way that we're proceeding'. People are labouring under the illusion that this is all going to happen in a couple of hundred years. It's not; it's going to happen in about 50 years."
The apocalypse pending, Yorke seems genuinely baffled at worldwide apathy towards the issue. And It Rained All Night, with its central lyric 'a million engines in neutral', demonstrates his frustration. "If you're sitting in a Tokyo traffic jam, you should be thinking, maybe this isn't the best way to proceed."
Wholly unsurprising from the man who fundamentally changed the direction of a band who had just produced one of the most important guitar albums of all time in 'OK Computer', 'The Eraser's electronic ostentation is far from easily accessible, and critics have suggested that without the grounding influence of his band (he produced it with longstanding Radiohead producer, Nigel Godrich for the XL label) it is more self-indulgent whimsy than a worthy addition to a superior catalogue. Either way, if it has served to exorcise demons, and whet the appetite for the return of the world's best band, it will have served its purpose well.
However, Yorke's artistic twitch was turning into a full spasm as consistent delays in recording new material led him to lock himself away with his laptop, something he'd "wanted to do for ages."
"Radiohead was getting boring. But it's not a solo album, it would demand that I'd walked away from the Radiohead thing, which I haven't. You could call it a side project, that would make more sense."
Yorke's demons are more than personal, far from navel-gazing; he appears to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders at times. 'The Eraser' seems to represent just how heavy that burden can be. A cynic might be tempted to dismiss his environmental crusade as yet another rock star hobby, but Yorke seems genuinely distressed at current events.
"When I was writing the album, I had just become heavily involved with Friends of the Earth (an international network of environmental organizations). The initial International Panel on Climate Change report had just come out, The Clock (song three of the album) was borne out of the anger of watching heads of state around the world saying 'yes we really must do something about this, meanwhile, here are the latest growth figures!' The most frightening thing I find about what's going on at the moment is that no one is engaging with the fact that we can't have endless growth. This is no longer about 'smelly hippies', anybody who's got time to think about it, should be thinking 'hang on a minute, there's something fundamentally flawed in the way that we're proceeding'. People are labouring under the illusion that this is all going to happen in a couple of hundred years. It's not; it's going to happen in about 50 years."
The apocalypse pending, Yorke seems genuinely baffled at worldwide apathy towards the issue. And It Rained All Night, with its central lyric 'a million engines in neutral', demonstrates his frustration. "If you're sitting in a Tokyo traffic jam, you should be thinking, maybe this isn't the best way to proceed."
Wholly unsurprising from the man who fundamentally changed the direction of a band who had just produced one of the most important guitar albums of all time in 'OK Computer', 'The Eraser's electronic ostentation is far from easily accessible, and critics have suggested that without the grounding influence of his band (he produced it with longstanding Radiohead producer, Nigel Godrich for the XL label) it is more self-indulgent whimsy than a worthy addition to a superior catalogue. Either way, if it has served to exorcise demons, and whet the appetite for the return of the world's best band, it will have served its purpose well.
The Eraser' is released through XL recordings on July 10.
http://www.theeraser.net