Amnesiac is an album without an identity. The songs that make up the record were recorded in the same sessions as the band’s 2000 masterpiece Kid A, but for one reason or another didn’t make the final cut. This led to fans to jokingly refer to it as “Kid B”, and to dismiss it as simply a b-sides album in disguise. Frontman Thom Yorke didn’t help its case by saying this about the two albums:

“”They are separate because they cannot run in a straight line with each other. They cancel each other out as overall finished things… In some weird way, I think Amnesiac gives another take on Kid A, a form of explanation. “Something traumatic is happening in Kid A… this (Amnesiac) is looking back at it, trying to piece together what has happened.”

Fans were eager for another game-changer, not just a memory or another version of what Radiohead had done before.  It was not the return to a guitar-based sound that many OK Computer fans hoped for, but the band restrained themselves from taking a deeper dive into electronic music that the experimental-minded fan craved. The middle ground certainly didn’t help with the cohesiveness of the album; transitions from track to track are jarring more often than not, as the band is not content to stick within one genre or mood for long.

Considering all that, you may then ask: why is Amnesiac our seventh favorite album of the decade? How could something comprised of tracks that didn’t make the Kid A cut be worthy of such praise? Well this is first a testament to Kid A, which just might be the best album of the decade (more on that next week). But it alone was not enough to convey the band’s trauma; there were another 10 songs recorded during that time (‘Life In A Glasshouse’ was recorded after Kid A) that were essential to the explanation, and a year later they were released as Amnesiac. And in many ways, they pick up the pieces of Kid A and create a stronger picture for us. Overall, it may not quite rival Kid A, but that in itself should be considered a triumph in every sense of the word.

‘Packt Like Sardines In A Crushed Tin Box’ opens the record with the hypnotic clanging of pipes, which are soon joined by static drums and plotting synths. As the latter begin to take control, Thom adopts the unenviable position of the disappointment, one who is unwilling to change. He is too set in his own ways, and instead tries to rationalize who he is and what he has done (“I’m a reasonable man/get off my case”). ‘Pyramid Song’ is a gorgeous piano and string affair accompanying Thom’s acceptance of fate in the face of death (“All my lovers were there with me/All my past and future/And we all went to heaven in a little row boat/There was nothing to fear/Nothing to doubt”) while ’I Might Be Wrong’ is the ‘Optimistic’ of Amnesiac, more conventional in structure, and led by a wonderfully bouncy guitar line. The end sees a shift to a somber mood though, and we hear Thom cry out in his trademark falsetto, which has never sounded more splendidly sad.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a true Radiohead album without the trademark political attacks we’ve grown to know and love. This time around, Thom goes after CEOs and their control over us (‘Dollars & Cents’) as well as Tony Blair and his warmongering (‘You and Whose Army?’). The former harkens back to the days of OK Computer, not only through the focus on guitar, but also the underlying tension and uneasiness present throughout. The latter exists in a dream-like haze, until the listener is brought back to reality by rising percussion and a piano coda.

While ‘Morning Bell/Amnesiac’ may seem like a warmer recording, the desperation of the original version still remains. The xylophone and bright synths are Thom’s attempt at putting on a good face, but there’s no covering up the harsh aftermath of a failed life commitment. ‘Like Spinning Plates’ sees Radiohead capturing the sound of plates spinning through the air. Yes, this is the same band who released Pablo Honey eight years earlier (as much as we try to forget). Combined with Yorke’s near indecipherable vocals, it creates a perfect atmosphere of fear and distortion. The band heads down to New Orleans for closing number ‘Life In A Glass House’. Trumpets, trombones, clarinets make this the first true jazz track for the band, and they combine with piano and percussion to form a lazy waltz with Thom’s paranoia that “someone’s listening in”.

Could anyone be blamed for expecting mediocrity from Amnesiac? Radiohead made it clear in interviews that this wasn’t their next musical revolution, or even a further journey down the electronic path. It was known that these songs were from the Kid A sessions, leaving them without their own identity. After the incredible hype that preceded Kid A, the expectations for Amnesiac were set relatively low. But there are two important details that people seemed to forget: 1) Radiohead is made up of pretty damn good songwriters, and 2) they are not afraid to take risks. Nearly every song tackles a different genre or sound, yet self-indulgence never becomes a threat. They jump from electronic to rock to piano to spinning plates, and it doesn’t feel out of place. It aims for the heights of Kid A and granted, it may fall just a little short. Not bad for a bunch of b-sides though, huh?

Max Logan

Honorable Mentions (Part 1)
Honorable Mentions (Part 2)
#50-41
#40-31
#30-21
#20-11
#10 / #9 / #8 / #6 / #5 / #4 / #3 / #2 / #1