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Radiohead

Pablo Honey Collector’s Edition

Capitol | 2009 | Reissue

Biography

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When Radiohead released Pablo Honey in 1993, few anticipated that the band would go on to make some of the most important and influential music of the last two decades. Sure, it was obvious even then that Thom Yorke’s voice was one of the most expressive and versatile instruments of modern rock. And that the tangled guitar pathos of Jonny Greenwood and Ed O’Brien made for a sound that stood apart from the power chords of so many of their early '90s contemporaries. But the band had yet to find its own voice. Rather, they drew heavily on the sounds of the Pixies and Nirvana, alternating quiet verses with explosions of guitar distortion in angst-y songs that dripped with self-loathing and bitterness.

That’s not to say that Pablo Honey’s not a great album, because it certainly is. From the tortured operatic vocals of “You” and “Stop Whispering,” to the now-iconic pre-chorus guitar chugs of “Creep,” the album is full of exhilarating rock heroics. Sixteen years after its release, however, the most intriguing aspect of the listen is identifying the seeds that would grow into Radiohead’s hybrid of arty and experimental rock. That’s where the bonus disc of the limited edition release comes in.

Eighty-two minutes of outtakes is a lot to sift through, and there are some understandably weak moments. But from both musical and anthropological standpoints, the bonus disc is definitely worth a good listen. The acoustic version of “Creep” leaves Yorke’s spine-chilling vocals exposed and even more potent than in the studio version. “Inside My Head” (particularly the live version) is a fantastically exhilarating listen of Pixies-like guitar and vocals that alternately sneer and soar. The remix of “Blow Out” sharpens the psychedelic claustrophobia of the guitar work, illuminating passages that were buried in the original mix. The reverb-heavy guitars and floating vocals of “Coke Babies” hint at the uneasy dreaminess that the band would subsequently master with The Bends and OK Computer.

Few would argue that Pablo Honey even remotely approaches the brilliance of Radiohead’s subsequent albums. But if you take it for what it is—a great early '90s alt-rock album—you’re left with a rocking, if somewhat dated, listen that hints at what the band would become. And while the bonus disc probably isn’t something that you’ll listen to over and over, it reveals a great band finding its voice. Most fans have memorized every nuance of every Radiohead album, so it’s great to hear these songs in different contexts and see what the band deemed unworthy for release. And really, most of us would give anything to sound as good as Radiohead ever did—even at their weakest moments.

Hannis Brown