I swear, if I hear one more person say “You just have to feel Radiohead,” I’m going to lose the three remaining brain cells this band didn’t already kill. I gave them a chance (TWICE!!). In 2015. Sat in the living room, forcing my ears to listen to two of their albums, OK Computer and Kid A, waiting for that “life-changing” moment people keep preaching about like it’s some underground religion. Spoiler alert: it never came. I really tried to open my mind to their music.
It was like listening to a washing machine have an identity crisis. Melodies? Barely. Energy? None. Joy? Don’t make me laugh. It's just endless droning, cryptic mumbling, and digital beeping like a robot trying to cry but its emotion chip fried. I’ve had more fun waiting for an appointment.
And what really burns me is the cult-like worship. Like Thom Yorke is some tortured prophet instead of a dude muttering into a reverb chamber while sounding like he hasn’t opened a window in 20 years. Meanwhile, everyone nods along like they're in on something the rest of us mere mortals couldn't possibly comprehend.
Nah. I tossed the CD, and for good measure, I smashed the case too. That wasn’t music. That was an emotional hostage situation.
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