Yeah it was tragic when Jeff Buckley decided to go for an emo swim and all, but really, did he ever leave us with anything as good as “Street Spirit”? No. If the best you’ve got is a Leonard Cohen cover and some whining, well, you should head off for a dip in the deep dark.
It’s a good thing the ‘Heads don’t care much for fashion though (frankly, they look like bowling alley employees), because there’s one fashion accoutrement that band will never match — Wicked Belt Buckles.
I guess if you’re looking for something to define your personality, sure, you could walk around all day blasting Kid A out of your iPhone. But that would be mostly kind of lame. Far more awesome would be if you’ve got a converted Andre The Giant surrounded in bronze holding your pants up. Or if you had one of those bitchin’ scorpions encased in amber. Or a classic like some sort of animal skull.
‘Cause nothing says, “I’m hot, I’m dangerous, and check out my reproductive area” quite like a super-awesome belt buckle that you can wear all the time, anywhere.
We’ll give it to you that occasional Radiohead listening sessions can be great. But when you find that right belt buckle and you’re strutting around thrusting your pelvis in everyone’s face because your. crotch. area. is. just. that. amazing, well, there’s no doubt: in the real world a really wicked belt buckle is way better than Radiohead.
So you’re sitting in your room, headphones on, listening to “Bodysnatchers” and marveling at how amazing it is when that crazy space noise kicks in and it actually sounds like an alien abduction. And you know The Smashing Pumpkins never came up with something so wicked.
That’s pretty much “well, DUH,” but Radiohead are far from the masters of layering. That designation goes to all those unsung artists toiling in the back kitchens of sports bars, local pubs and faux Mexican restaurants who lovingly craft Well-Layered Nachos.
Really, Colin Greenwood can come up with all the kooky sounds he wants, but the feeling you get from hearing those sounds is never going match that feeling where just when you thought you’ve decimated all the cheese, jalapenos and salsa that got gooped on top of your nachos, there it is — BAM — a whole other layer of cheese, beans, onion and whathaveyou carefully inserted deep in your tortilla chip mount. That’s not about managing sound effects, that’s about true master craftsmanship and care for humanity.
Without such well-crafted foodstuffs the world would be a far poorer place. There can be no doubt that Well-Layered Nachos are better than Radiohead.
In a world where Radiohead and Cat Power were two major deities, Radiohead would be, like, whoever’s fourth or fifth in command — like Apollo or something — and Cat Power would be one of those lesser footnote gods that’s only worshipped by one-eyed old ladies in a couple hopeless villages (Chan Marshuvius, goddess of random tears and whoa, you need to chill). So yeah, there’s little doubt that Radiohead are better than Cat Power.
But there’s a different cat whose neutered genital leavings Phil Selway wouldn’t deserve to have shoved up his nostrils as an act of devotion — Basement Cat.
Weird fishes, bears, sardines? Really? That’s all you’ve got Radiohead? Basement Cat has his OWN BIBLE. Not to mention his own army of darkness, a reckless disregard for spelling, and fucking EBEL POWERS.
Clearly, Basement Cat is better than Radiohead.