Dissect - S11E4 - Nude by Radiohead

Episode Date: October 17, 2023

Our season-long dissection of Radiohead's In Rainbows continues with its third track "Nude" - a song that took the band 10 years to get right. Listen to the Key Notes episode on the Minor 4 chord here. Support Dissect by leaving a review or sharing on social media. Follow @dissectpodcast on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter. Host/Writer/EP: Cole Cuchna Additional Analysis: Dr. Brad Osborn Audio Editing: Kevin Pooler Song Recreations: Andrew Atwood Theme Music: Birocratic Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

From Spotify and The Ringer, this is Dissect, long for a musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. This is episode four of our season-long dissection of Radioheads in rainbows. I'm your host, Cole Kushner. On our last two episodes, we dissected In Rainbow's opening tracks 15 Step and Body Snatchers, two songs full of vigor that propel the album into motion. This frenetic energy grinds to a halt with In Rainbow's third track, a moving, storied ballad that took Radiohead over 10 years to get right. It's a song that I believe is among the best in the band's entire catalog, a song that's in the running for my personal favorite of all time. Nude.

Nude's long history is the stuff of Radiohead legend, first known as Big Ideas don't get any. The song was written during the OK computer sessions, but didn't make the album after Radiohead struggled to arrange it to their satisfaction. However, the band would play the song during sound checks on the OK computer tour and even performed it as part of their set in March and April of 1998. Thus began the lore of Big Ideas, with fans wondering if and when the song would receive an official release and enjoying bootleg live recordings of it in the meantime. In the year 2000, the title Big Ideas Don't Get Any was copyrighted with Warner Publishing,

suggesting the song was going to be included on either Kid A or Amnesiac, but of course that failed to materialize and the wait continued. To give you an idea of just how anticipated the song had gotten over the years, at a concert in 2002, some fans brought huge signs that requested they play Big Ideas, and Radiohead actually obliged. In 2004, Tom was asked directly about the song by Rolling Stone, quote, Big Ideas has become the Great Lost Radiohead Classic, hasn't it? You've played it live a number of times, as long as four years ago, but has yet to surface on record. Why is that?

Tom responded, quote, Well, there are a number of bands we could give it to, for them to play it. Like I would literally get down on my hands and knees and beg Elvis Costello and the attractions to do it, because I know they'd play it much better than us, but I don't have the guts to ask them, unquote. The heart of Tom's response here is that the band didn't feel. field they'd found the right arrangement yet. They weren't doing their own song justice. So what was wrong with it? Well, because Radiohead has officially released the original 1996 demo as part of the

20th anniversary edition of OK Computer, we can actually listen to the early version and hear some of the issues. So far so good, right? It's not very far from the in-raimbo's version. The lyrics, melody, and chords are the same. The drums are the same. The biggest difference is the inclusion of an organ. But let's take a listen to when the dynamics of the song shift, and I think you'll hear some of the issues clearly. Like a lot of very early Radiohead songs, particularly during the Pablo Honey Days, they bring the song to a climax with a distorted guitar pounding out the chords, such was the standard throughout the 90s. But in this case, the wall of distortion destroys the intimacy and vulnerability established from the start. It breaks the almost hypnotic spell of those beautiful

verses. So what changed? After 10 years, how did Radiohead finally crack the code? Well, let's listen and find out. What we just heard is an excerpt of the outro of Nude, and I'm starting at the song's end because it's also its beginning. Listen to this same section of the song played in reverse. For most of you, this should sound familiar, because this reverse version of the outro is what we hear in the opening moments of Nude. Only Radiohead remove the reverse drums and replace them with normal drums.

It's pretty cool, right? We begin at the end and we'll end at the beginning. Or to quote 15 step, we'll end up right back where we start. where we started. Radiohead actually has a history of finding creative ways of using the reverse versions of their own material. For instance, like spinning plates from Amnesiac is a song almost entirely played in reverse. The source of this reverse musical material is actually a demo recording of a song they've been working on during the Kid A sessions. If this sounds familiar to you, it's because this demo was an early version of the song, I Will, a song that ended up appearing

on Hail to the Thief after the band rearranged it. Like the backstory of nude, the joint backstory of like spinning plates and I will gives us a sense of just how much radiohead tinkers with their own material in their search for its perfect expression. In these cases, it was reversing what they'd done and finding creative ways to use it. And in nude, the reverse material is used to great effect, a much-needed musical palette cleanser following the distorted blasts of body snatchers, were gently ushered into nude sonic universe, almost like those glimmering slow motion dissolves that transition a film into a dream sequence. Would the song still work had Radiohead simply started with the bass and drums? Probably, that's how they perform it live. But the reverse introduction

is one of those special musical details Radiohead works torturously discover. Where most bands would be satisfied with good, Radiohead waits to find great, even if it takes 10 years. As the reverse material dissipates into the ether, a bass line emerges from its remnants. According to the band, it was actually this baseline that kick started the song's turnaround after struggling for almost a decade. As we can hear, this bass line was not present in the early versions of the song. Instead, we hear a very low, almost murky baseline with not much rhythmic identity. The baseline in the final version of nude is much more rhythmic, accentuating the song's 6-8 shuffle groove. Colin also plays in a much higher register, a full octave higher than the original

bassline, and as a result, it's richer, more vibrant and crisp. Listen to how these two adjustments alters the entire pulsing groove of the song. With this base, bass line, the drum and bass together are enough to carry the song on their own. And so in essence, what the original version had been missing was a solid foundation, and just like a house, anything built on top of it didn't quite hold. With the solid foundation, there's no need for that non-stop organ or the consistent guitar we heard on the demo, which only muddied the mix and took away from the real centerpiece of the song, Tom's voice.

Just listen to how the song's minimalistic instrumentation preserves the intimacy and closeness of his absolutely gorgeous, otherworldly vocal. Tom injures the song singing in a high falsetto. Don't get any big ideas. They're not going to happen. Now, since we know these lyrics were written during the OK computer sessions, we should recall it was during this time that Tom was still acclimating to his rising stardom and struggling to connect with anyone or anything due to living his life on a tour bus. In the OK computer documentary Meeting People is easy, Tom described the song as being about, quote,

believing you're actually wonderful when you know that you're not, unquote. Over a decade later in 2008, Tom echoed this song. sentiment when describing the song, quote, it was something like, don't play up your imagination, boy. Watch out so you don't become something that you're not. We can see these statements reflected in the song's opening line pretty clearly. Don't get any big ideas, they're not going to happen. It feels like an expression of imposter's syndrome, a reminder to himself to remain humble in the face of constant praise, which would only exponentially intensify after releasing OK computer, when suddenly the band was being hailed as rock music saviors. Still, I think limiting our interpretation

to just Tom's specific circumstances would be selling it short, because like so many of his lyrics, the line and the way it sung somehow taps into a more universal expression of deflating self-doubt, articulating that intrusive internal voice that can often surface whenever we think about setting a goal, stating our ambitions, or even pursuing a potential romantic interest. Sometimes this voice can become so loud and crippling that we abort our aim before we even begin pursuing it, accepting defeat without trying. The beautifully melancholic sentiment of the moment is accentuated with a brief instrumental passage, where first Johnny enters playing a three-note descending line on his Owens Martino, the rare ethereal analog synth we detailed last episode.

Ed O'Brien then echoes the descending line using his ebo, the device we also discussed last episode that makes the electric guitar sound more like a boat instrument. Listen to how these unique timbers complement each other. Now let's hear this within the context of the full arrangement, noticing how Tom's final sustained note smoothly passes to the Owens Martino, which then smoothly passes to the e-mode guitar. More dynamic interest is created by panning, with Tom's vocals sitting directly in the middle that owns Martino pan to the left and the guitar pan to the right. It's a subtle but blissful musical moment. Tom's second stanza reiterates the duality of hope and cynicism as he sings, you paint yourself white and fill up with noise, but there'll be something missing. Traditionally,

white is symbolic of purity, perfection, and cleanliness. With these lyrics written in 97 or 98, when Tom often critiques suburban life, we might also think of a white picket fence, a symbol of the ideal American house and family. Thus it seems you paint yourself white means something like you live a perfect life. Tom cleverly puts a twist on this with the second line and fill up with noise. White is also symbolic of emptiness, and if we look at the last two words of each phrase, we get white noise, which is quite literally empty noise. So it seems Tom is critiquing the attempt at living a traditional ideal life, filling your life with meaningless noise or material things. Hence the final line, there'll be something missing.

Now with the second stanza, a clean electric guitar played by Johnny gently interests the mix. Because the bass only outline the root note of each chord, this arpaxiated guitar reveals the full harmony of the chord progression, which I'll play now on piano. Now there's a few things to point out about this progression, beginning with its first three chords, a G-sharp minor, a G-sharp major, and an A-major. Tuck within these three chords as a rising chromatic line, which means a successive run of notes that move up to the closest neighboring note directly next to it. Not always, but oftentimes in music, rising or ascending motion like this creates a feeling of hope or optimism. And this makes logical sense,

right? We generally use up to denote positive progression, things are looking up, and down to denote negative progression. I'm feeling down. And I hear that kind of optimistic lilt in the first three chords of nudes progression, especially since it begins with a minor chord, a chord we associate with sadness. This then transitions into a major chord, a chord we associate with brightness or happiness. This is then followed by another major chord. Let's hear this chord sequence again and see if you feel the same rising optimism I do. Things are looking up, right? Well, not exactly. Because all this bright rising momentum is undercut when we settle into a dark, melancholic C-sharp minor chord. And the thing is, this minor chord is heard each time Tom ends his melodic phrases, not going to happen, and there's

something missing. So what we have, at least to my ears, is a chord progression that perfectly underscores the lyrics being sung. The rising optimism of the first four chords gives us hope, just like our big ideas, our attempts to paint ourselves white, only to arrive at the melancholic minor chord, the reality that they're not going to happen, the reality that there'll be something missing. Let's hear this passage again, and this time let's focus on how the feeling of the chord progression helps transmit the feeling and message of the lyrics. Now, the duality of the chord progression highlights something else about the unique tonality of nude, the fact that the song is in two keys at once, E major and C-sharp minor.

This ambiguity between the bright E-major key and the melancholic C-sharp minor key is a big reason the song is able to uniquely capture a tragic kind of beauty, the simultaneous feelings of hope and defeat, which is, of course, the very theme of the lyrics. And a brief aside for those of you fluent in music theory screaming at me right now, But E major and C-sharp minor are relative key signatures. Yes, of course. I'm sparing the majority of listeners the extremely tedious theoretical explanation, but I implore you to take a look at the chords used in nude, and you'll see how the progression contains the tonic and dominant for both E major and C-sharp minor, and that neither are favored over the other in a pretty unique way. Now, as nude continues, we get the first break into its B-section, where the chord progression gets even more ambiguous, and Tom continues to develop the theme of contrasting emotions. We'll dissect that section, along with the rest of nude, right after the break. Welcome back to dissect. Before the break, we heard the gorgeous opening verse of Radiohead's nude,

noting how the harmony, chord progression, and lyrics work in tandem to express the tragic beauty of hope and cynicism. As the song continues, it breaks into its B section, where Tom's gentle vocals soars over a new chord progression and two additional musical textures that subtly increase the song's dynamics. In the left channel, we'll hear Ed gently strum an acoustic guitar, a percussive texture, as much as it is harmonic reinforcement. In the right channel, Johnny continues to play his clean electric guitar, but now executes delicate, beautiful rakes across the strings. Now let's hear these additions in the context of the full arrangement,

noticing how these minor editions supply just enough musical interest to keep the song moving forward. Long, delicate sustained notes, Tom sings, Now that you found it, it's gone. Now that you feel it, you don't. Once again, through contrasting opposites, he expresses the hope of having finally found or felt something and the disillusionment of realizing it's vanished the moment it's touched, like some twisted desert mirage. Fittingly, the chords here

alternate between minor and major, happy and sad, continuing the musical accentuation of the song's contrasting emotions. The lyrics might also express the letdown of finally achieving something you've always wanted, only to find that it didn't bring the satisfaction or happiness you always believed it would, that it didn't live up to your own expectations. This is a common emotional outcome of success. While it can provide brief stretches of fulfillment, when that initial bliss wanes, you're left feeling empty or disappointed that it didn't fill every hole in your life, that it didn't provide the happiness you anticipated, forcing introspection. Here we think again about Tom during the post-Benz era, who after finding success and living out the dream of being a rock star,

became completely disillusioned by the very experience he worked so hard for. His final line of this section, You've Gone Off the Rails, seems to continue this train of thought. perhaps a comment on his own deteriorating mental condition. We recall what he told Rolling Stone at this time, quote, I was a complete fucking mess, I mean really, really ill, just going a certain way for a long time

and not being able to stop or look back or consider where I was at all, for like 10 years, and not being able to connect with anything, basically becoming completely unhinged, unquote. Now, Nude continues with a return to its A section, where Tom will repeat his opening stanza, don't get any big ideas they're not going to happen.

But of course, this is Radiohead, so we're not going to get an exact repetition of a previous section. Because it's during this return to the A section that the acoustic guitar and Johnny's clean electric guitar drop out, and Ed's extremely affected guitar takes over. While he's simply strumming the chords, his guitar is processed through a number of effect pedals, including reverb and multi-tempo delay, which results in a distant, spectral wall of sound. This sound is another great example of source deformation, the term used to describe a sound source that's been affected beyond record. ignition. Also, after Tom's vocal passage, instead of the Owens Martino and the Ebo guitar filling space until the vocal reenters, this time beautiful strings are introduced. Let's hear these

arrangement changes in the context of the full song, again acknowledging how these subtle details and alterations sustain the song's continuous progression. Now, as nude continues, we're going to hear its climax. The interesting thing is that this climax isn't a new part. It's actually the main chord progression we've heard several times in the song, including the part. we just heard. But yet again, Radiohead's subtle alterations to the part elevated to another level, to the point where it feels like a new part, even though it's technically not. Let's start with the drums. Until this point, the drums have been playing this. Phil here is playing what are called rim clicks, which is when a drummer strikes the rim or side of the snare drum, instead of the snare drum

head itself. Drummers typically use rim clicks and ballads or more intimate songs, since the sound is gentler and less aggressive than your standard snare drum strike, which sounds like this. Phil uses the rim click to great effect throughout new to this point, but as the song turns to the climax, he'll transition to standard snare drum hits. It's the only change he'll make to his drum pattern, but notice how it suddenly ups the intensity of his part. During this section, we'll also hear Ed's acoustic guitar and Johnny's electric guitar kick up their parts, or at least relative to what they were playing before. This is the most aggressive we'll hear the guitars play all song,

but they're still pretty tame, especially compared to those big distorted guitar from the original demo. Because to do anything more would be to risk overpowering Tom's vocals, which is what really brings this section to a truly breathtaking crescendo. Let's listen to it, then we'll talk about it. While it feels like a sin to stop here, we kind of have to, because there's so much to address in Tom's vocal passage. First, let's acknowledge the words he sings, you'll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking. It's a somewhat abrupt shift from the previous lyrics, as going to hell and dirty thoughts are typically sexual in nature. Again, if we're relating some of the lyrics to Tom's experience adjusting to stardom, we might wonder if he's talking about

the increased temptation of women. More evidence of this interpretation comes by way of a lyric that originally came before this line in the original demo, where Tom sang, she stands stark naked and she beckons you to bed. Don't go, you'll only want to come back again. It's a very vivid and specific image of temptation, with Tom displaying the foresight and understanding of the potentially addictive nature of lust, therefore talking himself out of giving in, even just once. But with this line ultimately omitted in the final version, you'll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking, adds to the purity motif of you paint yourself white, and continues the duality of living one kind of life while fantasizing about another. How easy it is to think

you're just one thing away from contentment. One job, one win, one hit, one drink, one raise, one partner, one fuck. Then we'll be happy. Case closed. This is the comment, if then proposition. If I get or achieve this, then I'll be satisfied. Of course, once we do get those things, it typically just amplifies our desire for more. The more difficult but ultimately more sustainable brand of contentment is built by cultivating a supreme gratitude that we in this moment, here, now, together, have been gifted the breath of life. It's built by believing that when we are stripped of everything that we think defines us, when we are nude, that we are enough. However, at least for me, this moment is defined much less by what words Tom sings and more by how he sings them.

For one, this is the first time in the song that we hear Tom's full voice. To this point, he's been exclusively singing in his falsetto voice, which has a delicate, almost fragile, ghostly quality. So when Tom's weighty full voice emerges for the first time, it creates a powerful contrast, as if vocally the song has been building to this very moment. There's also the melody Tom sings, which begins with a three-note ascension on You'll Go To, before dropping to the lowest note Tom will sing in the entire song, a low G sharp on the word hell. We might interpret this sudden drop as a bit of subtle text painting, as we typically associate

hell with the underground. From this low note, from hell, Tom rises again. This time, it's an incredible 10-note ascension that sustains across four full measures, creating incredible anticipation and rising tension. As we discussed earlier, we often associate rising in music with optimism, and combined with Tom's full voice emerging for the first time, there's almost a heroic quality to this melody, which of course contrasts with the lyrics Tom sings, sustaining the song's consistent emphasis of opposites. The melody then reaches its peak when Tom hits and sustains a high G sharp, which is exactly a full octave above the low G sharp the long ascending line began with. This high G sharp is sustained for two full measures before flourishing down a fourth

to rest on a D sharp. In all, it's an absolutely beautiful melodic line. line, one that showcases the range and emotional depth of Tom's voice. Let's listen to just Tom's vocals during this moment. Appreciating the anticipation and heroism the rising melodic line creates, the stunning crescendo of that sustained high G sharp, and the resolve of the final descending flourish that sinks into that last note, D. Sharp. Now beneath this breathtaking vocal line, we also hear two additional vocal passages overdub by Tom, creating a three-part harmony.

What I absolutely love about these harmonies is the way they emerged from the strings and affect the guitar of the previous section. When we isolate these parts, you can hear how smooth this transition is. After hearing vocal passages as beautiful as these, it's hard to believe that it was actually Tom's voice that was partly responsible for big ideas' elongated gestation period. As Tom told Moja, quote, 10 years ago, when we first had the song, I didn't enjoy singing it because it was too feminine, too high.

It made me feel uncomfortable. Now I enjoy it for exactly that reason, because it is a bit uncomfortable, a bit out of my range, and it's really difficult to do, and it brings something out in me. As we just heard, at the end of this section, nude comes to a natural resting point. Specifically, this is what's called a half cadence, which is when a musical phrase or progression end on a dominant chord. The dominant chord is the chord with the most tension in a key. When we hear it, its tension creates a natural desire for release or resolve. In other words, it's not a chord we typically want a song to end on. It's a little like ending a sentence

without a period. Let me play a quick progression that ends with a half cadence and notice the tension or suspension it creates, this feeling of instability. Can you feel that? You want things to keep going, right? Understanding the effect a half cadence can have on a listener, composers can use it to create moments of extended suspension or anticipation, and when done correctly, it can make what happens after the half cadence incredibly impactful. As an example, let's listen to another time Radiohead employed a half cadence in the song Motion Picture soundtrack from Kid A. As we listen, notice how the half cadence, the brief moment of pause, creates suspension, and how gratifying and moving it is when the music re-enters.

For me, properly executed half-cadences always reminds me of that brief, transitory moment between a deep inhale and exhale when meditating, or like when you're tossed into the air on a ride and you get that brief moment of weightlessness in between rising and falling. Radiohead were clearly aware of the moment of suspension they created with the half cadence and nude, because what comes next is an incredibly orchestrated and gratifying payoff. Let's first listen to what they did, and then we'll talk about how they did it. It's just magnificent, simply some of the best music you'll ever hear. Somewhat surprisingly, this section at its heart is the song's B section we already heard,

when Tom sang, Now that you found it, it's gone. Now that you feel it, you don't. Now that you've found. Now during the climactic version of this B section, its musical core, the drums, bass, and two guitars, play for the most part what they played the first time we heard it. The only change here is that for the first time in the song, Phil has switched over to his ride symbol, which has a wide reverberation that suddenly increases the intensity of the drum part. But now instead of Tom returning to the lyric-based vocal passage,

he sang over the first iteration of the B section. He instead executes a wordless three-part harmony in his falsetto voice, a texture he had just established in the previous section. Behind him, we also hear the return of Johnny's Owens Martino. When the two-core progression repeats, the strings return to the mix, joining Tom's vocals and the Ones-Martino. While we've heard all three of these textures separately in the song before, this is the first time we hear them playing together.

Finally, when the section enters its last two chords, more strings are added, specifically to the low and mid-range, completely filling out their harmonic range, dramatically increasing their intensity. And so we see, little by little, Radiohead add elements throughout this B section to extend its climax, and for the first time unite musical elements that were previously heard separately at different points in the song. Radiohead waiting for precisely the right moment to unify all these elements,

it's a big reason this section is so cathartic. It's similar to what we discussed with 15-step, when we observed how so many of the creative choices throughout the song seemed to be made so that its climax really felt like true catharsis. The same kind of foresight and dynamic restraint occurs on nude, as Radiohead has been pretty conservative with their musical changes to this point. Instead of continuously stacking parts on top of each other, when a new sound element was introduced, it was usually replacing something else, which preserved the intimacy of the song throughout. And because of these choices, when the song called for a climax, the band wasn't forced to throw in the kitchen sink. For so many bands, including Radiohead in the early days, a climax simply

means loud. But one of the things Radiohead has truly mastered in the mature work is complete dynamic and emotional control. They can make a six feel like a 10. We should also recall that we've actually heard this climax before. Remember, this section is what's played in the very beginning of the song, only reversed. So here toward the end of the song, the part sounds vaguely familiar, but also new. Hearing it forward for the first time is almost its own payoff in and of itself, its own kind of catharsis. Now, as we just heard, nude continues into a new outro section, where the guitars drop out altogether, bringing down the overall dynamics. There's also a brand new chord sequence here, alternating between an E major and an A minor,

which is a borrowed chord, meaning that it technically doesn't belong to this key signature. Again, it's another alteration between major and minor, happy and sad. Specifically, the borrowed minor four chord has a rich history of being used to simultaneously convey feelings of joy and melancholy. I actually have an entire episode about this specific chord on my other podcast called Keynotes, which I'll link in the show notes if you're interested in learning more about it. But suffice it to say here that this section in nude continues its emphasis on emotional opposites, anticipation and disappointment, the expectation and the letdown.

It also fools us into thinking the song is winding down to its conclusion. And if they were to end the song here, it would have worked. But in one final moment of surprise, Radiohead launches into a brand new part, One last beautiful, wordless musical passage to seal this song as a true masterwork. Okay, so aside from simply being a spectacular way to bring this song home, there's something really, really cool going on here. Like the previous section, this outro introduces a brand new core progression. Now the key attribute of this progression is its descending bass line.

We can hear this descending line clearly in the bass guitar. Now let's take a listen to what Tom sings over this. Tom's vocal line is all ascension. it rises higher and higher and higher. So do you see what's going on here? Tom is rising while the baseline is descending. As we talked about, rising in music traditionally gives us a feeling of hope and heroism, while descending gives us a feeling of defeat and dejection.

These contradictory feelings played simultaneously is one final expression of what has been consistently emphasized throughout the entire song, lyrically, musically, thematically, and emotionally. I mean, I can't think of a more perfect symbolic punctuation mark than this, with Tom, the human voice, straining his voice higher and higher, struggling as we all do, to push against the often bleak realities of the human condition and attempt to transcend our worldly circumstances and reach a place of true contentment. This has been the symbolic conflict embedded in every aspect of the entire song, which brings us to its final chord. As we talked about,

nude sits uniquely in two keys at once, E major and C-shart minor, happy, sad, optimistic, pessimistic, the simultaneity, we've discussed this at length. The ambiguity of the song's key signature intrinsically begs the question, what chord will Radiohead choose to end the song with? Typically, songs end with what's called the tonic chord, which is the title chord of a key, its home chord, its place of stasis and rest. In the key of E major, the tonic or home chord is E major. In the key of C sharp minor, the tonic chord is C sharp minor. In a song that's been blurring the lines between these two keys, what chord radiohead should chooses to end the song with will go a long way in making a case for one key over the other.

And symbolically, at least for me personally, it will answer the question of which side prevails, hope or defeat. And in the end, Radiohead chooses to end the song with an elegant, unambiguous, plainly stated E major chord. It's an incredibly satisfying and cathartic conclusion, since it's really the first convincing full cadence in the entire song, reserved for its final moment, and in the symbolic fight between optimism and cynicism, between hope and defeat, in the end, it's hope that prevails, at least for a moment. Conclusions. Radiohead's nude and its 10-year gestation period is perhaps the most extreme example of the band's

meticulous, uncompromising, torturous perfectionism. Regarding their journey to execute nude, Johnny said, quote, we're always wondering how to record, what might work, what's right for the song, it's getting harder and harder. There are definitely bands that would hear one of our songs and say, Yeah, that's a great song, let's record it. And they would probably make a great version in no time. But we fail again and again. Other bands might find it difficult to write songs at all,

but it's our responsibility to live up to our songs. That might sound blazé, but that's how it is, unquote. Tom for his part was a little more blunt, saying, quote, it's fucking torturous being us. Nobody else on the planet would operate like this, unquote. but no one else on the planet is radiohead, and their willingness to undergo the torturous process to find perfection is a big reason they are who they are. Throughout this episode, I try to point out the kind of nuanced details and understated creative choices that took the band so long to find,

choices that are easy to overlook as a listener, yet they are crucial to the emotional and musical impact of a song as moving and transcendent and revelatory as this. And while they themselves likely wouldn't have described it this way, we might suggest that what Radiohead was searching for in nude, what they were waiting to find, what they did find, was a musical arrangement that was timeless. Because despite the core of the song being written in 1997, it doesn't sound like a song from the 90s, nor does its 2007 arrangement sound like a song influenced by the musical trends of the 2000s. It's a singular artistic expression created by a group of artists who used every bit of their decades-long experience and acquired knowledge to find exactly what this particular song called for,

what it was intrinsically asking for. It might have taken 10 years to answer that call, but what is 10 years to forever? Nude exists now. It's ours to cherish until there is no longer. An immaculate, arresting, profound musical portrait of the human condition laid bare. And that's well worth the wait.