Meeting in the Aisle: A decade of love and obsession

Ten years ago I fell in love for the first time.

It was May 1997, and my mother had just returned from the supermarket having purchased Radiohead's 'Ok Computer'.

That evening I put the CD on my dad's old 4-tray LP player and listened to it on big headphones. I hated it, and remember feeling really disappointed. Earlier in the week I had watched the band playing 'Paranoid Android' and 'No Surprises' on 'Later with Jools Holland' and having my tiny little mind blown. But the album was too experimental and wierd for my tastes. I was twelve, remember. I liked Oasis and The Bluetones.

A few months later, on November 15, I went to see Radiohead live at the Birmingham N.E.C. I remember this gig more clearly than any other. DJ Shadow was the support act, at a DJ booth in the middle of the arena and nobody knew who he was. I bought an 'OK Computer' t-shirt. They opened with 'Meeting in the Aisle' followed by 'Airbag', and closed with 'Fake Plastic Trees'. I couldn't believe what was happening.

I rediscovered their first two albums, 'Pablo Honey' and 'The Bends, but neither came anywhere near my new-found adoration and obsession with 'OK Computer'. The original CD still exists somewhere, the sleeve battered to oblivion, as does the t-shirt, similarly worn out.

It was an agonising 3 years before their next effort, 'Kid A'. I've never known hype like the hype that surrounded this release. I don't remember how I bought it, but I know that this was the last Radiohead album I bought in CD format and heard for the first time that way. Simpler times.

By the time 'Kid A' came out, my judgement of the band was blurred. I was dangerously obsessed, and I loved this record just because it was Radiohead. I had been following the online diaries kept by Ed O'Brien on the agonising recording process, and felt like I knew the songs inside out before I'd ever heard them.

Looking back, it is the most complex, beautiful and misunderstood album Radiohead have ever made. Listen to it on headphones in the dark with your eyes closed and no distractions, and you'll see what I mean. 'Everything in it's Right Place', 'The National Anthem', 'How to Disappear Completely' - fragile, terrifying, end-of-the-world pieces of music - it seems somehow trite to call them songs.

A second live experience followed, in a tent in a field in Warrington. 'Clinic' supported, but I don't remember very much about them. What I do remember is being quite far back, leaning on a railing listening to 'Motion Picture Soundtrack' closing the show. It was muddy, and I bought an official grey hoodie and a knock-off 'Kid A' t-shirt outside.

'Amnesiac' followed in summer 2001. I bought this album when I was revising for my 'AS' Levels, and was underwhelmed. Exciting as it was to have new material, this seemed like 'Kid A' outtakes to me, coming as it did from the same recording sessions. There are highlights - 'Pyramid Song', 'You and Whose Army', 'Like Spinning Plates' - but I think they went too far towards what a dissillusioned acquaintance once called 'electronic keyboard noodling'.

A period of quiet, and then a pirated copy 'Hail to the Thief' came through the post from a friend in Spring 2003, weeks before it was due to be released. Welcome to the modern age. I remember being very excited as I travelled to college with the disc on my portable cd player. It turned out to be an unmastered version of the album, which had been stolen from the studio and leaked onto the net.

I bought the record when it came out, and still don't really know what I think about it. It's their most disjointed album, and I don't think they knew what they wanted it to be. There are short, energetic, punky songs like '2+2=5', experimental 'noodling' on 'The Gloaming', and beautiful piano led ballads like 'Sail to the Moon'. 'A Wolf at the Door' is just rubbish, however.

I saw them live a third time on the 'Hail to the Thief' tour, at the Manchester Apollo. I was impressed with how tight they had become, how many more instruments they were using and Thom Yorke's vast stage presence. This is also the best venue I've seen them at.

A fourth gig followed quickly at Earl's Court in London, which I will always remember primarily for missing the last train back to Birmingham and standing outside Euston station all night in sub-zero December temperatures with wierdos stalking the streets.

'Hail to the Thief' could have been the end of Radiohead. They seemed to have reached the point where they didn't really know what to do next. They effectively broke up and reformed - something they seem to do after every album - and then Yorke returned with a solo album in 2006, entitled 'The Eraser'. It was an interesting diversion, no more. All it did for me was prove that Radiohead is more than just one man, talented and fascinating though he might be.

And so, we come to the present day. My fifth, and to date final Radiohead gig was in May 2006 at Wolverhampton Civic Hall, when they premiered songs which will be released next week on their 7th studio album, 'In Rainbows'.

It's hard to tell what the album will be like, despite the fact that most hardcore fans already have an intimate relationship with most of the songs. 'Arpeggi' is already in line to be the most beautiful song they've ever recorded. 'Videotape' likewise.

The discussion about the band choosing to release the album online for a voluntary donation is for another blog, in another world.

Apologies for the rambling. I'm sure it makes no sense whatsoever. My obsession grows, coupled with the fact that I am spending all day every day writing 120 word news stories about cats stuck in jars of marmite.

Meanwhile, we await the new record. Here are a few gems to tide you over.

This is a video of agonisingly short clips of the new songs: