The lucid daydreams I've gotten out of listening to Radiohead were on some of my worst days turned awesome.
Radiohead have formed to share the eccentric dream experience of what appears to start as dark tunnels channelling through at an unmeasurable speed to peak at then end and burst into rainbow sparks. It burns the spray of colourful fireworks onto your retinas so when you close your eyes, you see the outlines and experience something dramatic all over - a cold sweat breaks out from your clammy skin but it slowly washes over, and it develops into chillingly sweet euphoria. Their music taps your brain with neat tricks and you can hear quiet bottled anger in the symbol crashes and snare snaps. Thom Yorke reaches out with his lullaby choir voice and electrifies your nerves until they tingle, so that the hair on the back of your neck stand up with attention and salute.
I'll be inflicting you with more at-bottom-of-the-'coke'-bottle-there-is-life-somewhere songs from wonderfully insightful bands and artists as I see fit very soon into my blog but this one needed a special mention as Radiohead don't churn out commercial crap like what today's bands do; they've preserved their awkward style and melodious creepiness and tweak it slightly that makes each album truly memorable - and then come the altered strangely pleasant dreams again...
