Was Making A New Music Vid For A Two-Decade Old Track Worth Radiohead's Or Anybody's Time?

So, as we sit here spinning on our dying blue orb looking out on the inky blackness of infinity, I think of Radiohead – which is possibly where I got that ‘inky infinity’ philosophical stuff from in the first place. Recycling is certainly one way to extend our time, but whether that extends to recycling your own art is another question. Thus, alongside those 50^th anniversary editions of Sgt Pepper, you can now also find the 20-year reissue of OK Computer from squinty Thom and his combo. As is the way with such things there’s extras and leftovers included in the new release, going so far as making a new video for a two-decade old track. I Promise (XL Recordings/Remote Control) can be described with those usual words often found in Radiohead reviews like ‘atmospheric’ and ‘enigmatic’. Then again, they didn’t think it was good enough to go on the record in the first place. Make of that what you will.

You could easily argue the idea that Radiohead – and maybe even more, some of their more rabid fans – might just take themselves that little bit too seriously. This is not a charge that can be levelled at Mac DeMarco. In fact, one might suggest the complete opposite. But this odd frat-boy slackness he seems to revel in does work for his broad audience. So, you get things like One Another (Captured Tracks). Mac converses with an extremely low-budget vision of death about the joys of existence, before heading back to the keg in the backyard. A step to the right, and he’s Weird Al. A step to the left, and he’s Father John Misty. Are we engaged enough to wonder which way he might jump? Probably not. 

Personally, I’m already more interested in what Cloves might do on return to her Melbourne home, after she finishes touring and finding an audience in America with Michael Kiwanuka. California Numb (Island) has an assurance, almost a touch of Lorde-esque self-awareness, this 21-year-old puts into the conversation. That she’s signed to one of those things we used to call ‘major labels’ adds the worry that just might be after a Ms Yelich-O’Connor of their own. But this track appears to show she knows what’s she doing, and heading toward an art of her own. 

An artist need not be bound by their past, or what others tried to make of them. There are mis-steps and misdeeds in Lakyn’s personal and professional life – falling off his skateboard and injuring himself for one, falling into being involved in one of those TV reality show singing contests for another. But View Looks So Good (Universal) might be the creation of someone coming out the other side of all that. There’s a touch of Frank Ocean modern soul and humanity to this, individual and idiosyncratic in a way that probably wouldn’t have had any of those chairs turn, but might make people looking for something more pay attention. He admits his creative way is to write movies in his head. Seems they might be drenched-with-colour little Wes Anderson snowdomes, rather than widescreen blockbusters, which can be much more shallow.

Equally, you can become something different than the sum of your parts. Son of a Swedish jazz chanteuse and Pommie punk rocker, Albin Lee Meldau comes out making music with some retro soul in it, being smart and confessional, and yet not forgetting it’s pop music. Persistence (Astralwerks) is a little more energetic in its approach than what he’s offered previously, this almost landing somewhere around where our Chet Faker used to be, before his identity change. As such, this is almost ideal as J-fodder, whether for the playlist of the Double or Triple variants.

Others retain what is almost an odd politeness and reserve to what they do, and perhaps have to find other ways to distinguish themselves. London Grammar - even when dealing with wrung-out emotions or issues of gender roles as here - still make songs lush, layer-upon-layer of filo-pastry harmonies. Not sugary sweet, but somehow always suitable as music for that dinner party where you don’t want offend the boss’s wife. To add a necessary point of difference - and/or as a handy marketing novelty – for Oh Woman Oh Man (Dew Process) you’re offered two video points-of-view: the his and hers, naturally. Watch either or both, and decide where one, other, or neither engages you. Odd factoid: at time of writing, Oh Man has double the views of its female equivalent – feel free to try and work out why. 

Or you can make the unfurling and consequent unravelling of a relationship as centre of a whole work of music. This is what nyck did, with This Might Be My Year (100s+1000s) the end point of their concept EP’s story, but certainly not the happy ending some might demand. There’s hope though, reflected in open music that is both electric and woody at once. Yes, you could play this at that same dinner party as above, but it’s probably more likely to distract your guests’ attention from the fig turnovers and Zumbo chocolates you were serving with the coffee.  

They say it’s from the garage, I say more bedroom synth with an interesting view out the window. CSIRO Weeds (Future Classic) is Bus Vipers being woozily echoey and squelchy – but still melodic as things get suitably weird among the sand-dunes. It sometime stumbles, sometimes reels away, but never quite loses its footing, as it leaves you just that little off-balance as you try and sing along with the chorus.