Rating Radiohead Right

"Let Down" is the kind of sadness that sneaks up on you - like starting out a rain streaked window, knowing things won't be the same but hoping maybe they will. It's heartbreaking, yet oddly comforting. The lyrics hit hard - "Crushed like a bug in the ground", but the music somehow carries you through the ache. The timing in this song is perfect - around two minutes in, you're sure the song is almost finished, but Radiohead gifts you with two more blissful moments of slow-burning melancholy. I've cried to this song more times than I'd like to admit. If my life had a soundtrack, this would be the quiet moment before everything falling part - and yet somehow everything still feels okay. 

Coming up second is "High and Dry". This song feels like a damp, overcast autumn afternoon - melancholic, quiet, and a little raw. The drums and stings carry a sadness that's not dramatic, but deeply familiar. Like breaking up with someone you've been with for three years, when you know it's both just not working anymore - it's that aching slow kind of heartbreak that lingers in the background, neither angry nor bitter, just quietly resigned. 

I've never had a song leave me feeling quite so empty as "No Surprises." It's like waiting in a hospital elevator - quiet, slow, and a little unnerving. The sweet little glockenspiel tings sound like they're trying to keep things cheerful, but the crushing lyrics undercut that innocence every time. It's beautiful and bleak all at once, a gentle lullaby for the quietly overwhelmed. 

I've never heard people talk about this song before, which has been surprising. It’s definitely one of the most moving tracks I’ve discovered. There’s been a unique, almost tactile percussion throughout, like someone gently rubbing their hands near a fire. Thom’s vocals have been stunning; he’s hummed and sung with a quiet intensity that has lingered. A simple string arrangement has underscored the lyrics beautifully, adding emotional depth without overpowering the song. Every element has felt intentional, like it’s been crafted with real care. It’s the kind of track that has revealed more with each listen - intimate and quietly unforgettable.

I blast this on the treadmill because it makes me feel like I'm sprinting through a spooky forest, heat pounding, dodging invisible monsters. The drums and guitars lock in tight, pushing you forward with a frantic urgency that is both equal parts thrilling and exhausting. Thom Yorke's breathless vocals add to the chaos, like someone narrating a panic attack in real time. But seriously, stick around for the last part - that's where it all snaps together like a puzzle pieces on steroids and explodes into a glorious, messy crescendo.