I'm a creep

July 6, 2017

 

Photos by Nick Tomecek 

 

I hated Radiohead for the majority of my life, honestly.

In the same way people have told you to hate Dave Matthews Band, Nickelback or Drake and you do; I hated Radiohead, with vigor. I mentally concocted a Top 10 reasons list of why I hated Radiohead, except it had only one reason phrased 10 different ways: I’d never listened.

I scoffed at Radiohead, that English band whose non-singles I’d never heard. I looked down on that group named after the Talking Heads, a far better band than Radiohead could ever be. Thom Yorke was nothing to me, less than nothing to me.

You can probably tell by the photo of me with Radiohead’s debut album “Pablo Honey,” that my hatred diminished.

I disliked Radiohead until I met a band who liked it. When people you think are cool think something is cool, then you think that same thing is cool, too. I know, I know. If they jumped off a bridge, well, you know the saying.

But, I began to like Radiohead on my own merit. There was a particular song that contributed to this occurrence, but I’ll save it for the right record.

Pre-Radiohead listener Savannah had heard only the song “Creep” from this 1993 record. Post-Radiohead listener Savannah enjoys many other songs on “Pablo Honey.”

Nevertheless, “Creep” is an epic, angst-filled grunge song with catchy lyrics.

 

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don’t belong here.

 

If you’ve never taken the opportunity to deem yourself a creep or weirdo or question your existence, then clearly you were in a self-induced coma during the early '90s. You’re lucky.

I’m a creep. You’re a creep. We’re all just a bunch of creeps.

There is more to this album than “Creep,” though. Some people say “Pablo Honey” is the worst Radiohead album ever made, while some say it’s likable and highly underrated.

Like in most polarizing debates, I find myself somewhere in the middle.

This is not my favorite Radiohead album, but it doesn’t suck. That is really all you can ask from music, right?

“Pablo Honey” stays true to the 1990s and British Rock. It does, however, contradict itself with songs such as “Creep” and “Anyone Can Play Guitar” that channel the dark edginess of Nirvana and others such as “Stop Whispering” and “Thinking About You” that resemble the uplifting ballads of Coldplay and U2.

The conflicting music styles don’t fully foreshadow, but they do hint, at Radiohead’s future versatile discography.

If you get a chance, read Rolling Stone Magazine’s album review of “Pablo Honey.” It says the group has an “attitude overload” and Thom Yorke rivals Morrissey with “narcissistic angst.” It’s not wrong.

Like Morrissey, Yorke welcomes death with poetic riddles.

“Pablo Honey” was not the first Radiohead album I heard, so I don’t bear any deep attachments to it. But I like having it around. 

I really just have to laugh at the album art, because I don’t understand it. Flower petals and gumdrops surround a pouting baby face with chubby cheeks. It’s brightly colored, silly and weird.

It suits the needs of every creep.
 

The outfit:

Earrings - Earthbound Trading Co.

Cardigan - Forever 21

Jumpsuit - Xhiliration, Target

Shoes - G by Guess

 

 

Hey, I'm Savannah. I collect records, and they collect dust. Like my preferred media form, I strive to not become obsolete. I created Off the Record as a way to turn my mind inside out, into something visual and tangible. One is the loneliest number, so I asked my friends to join. 

 

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