Radiohead and the Art of the Album

Tomorrow's Modern Boxes

I’m an album guy. I love hearing cohesiveness between songs, well-placed transitions, strong openers and closers framing the entire work. I find it a much more rewarding experience than listening to disjointed singles (one of the primary reasons I don’t use shuffle or listen to mixes very often). If an artist can’t make a good, unified album, I probably won’t listen to them, no matter how good one or two individual songs might be.

Listening to Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes, the new album from Thom Yorke which made a surprise debut yesterday, I am reminded of one of the reasons I love Radiohead (and, by extension, Thom Yorke) so much. They do openers and closers better than any artist out there. A quick breakdown of every opener and closer they’ve ever done speaks for itself:

Openers:
– You
– Planet Telex
– Airbag
– Everything In Its Right Place
– Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box
– 2 + 2 = 5
– The Eraser
– 15 Step
– Bloom
– Before Your Very Eyes
– Brain in a Bottle

Closers:
– Blow Out
– Street Spirit (Fade Out)
– The Tourist
– Motion Picture Soundtrack
– Life in a Glasshouse
– A Wolf at the Door
– Cymbal Rush
– Videotape / 4 Minute Warning
– Separator
– Amok
– Nose Grows Some

Does this mean every Radiohead/Yorke album has been perfect? No. If I’m speaking honestly, their first two albums, Pablo Honey and The Bends, frequently bore me (though The Bends was outstanding for its time), and their most recent unified effort, 2011’s The King of Limbs, has not had quite the staying power of their previous output. But on every album they’ve produced, particularly since their 1997 magnum opus OK Computer, they’ve shown a mastery at crafting albums that is unrivaled. On the basis on a few preliminary listens, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes seems to continue the trend nicely.

“All those people saying all those wonderful things, and [he] never got to hear any of it.”

Reading several of the reactions to Robin Williams’ tragic passing, I am reminded of a memorable scene from Mitch Albom’s “Tuesday’s With Morrie” I have quoted here before:

“When a colleague at Brandeis died suddenly of a heart attack, Morrie went to his funeral. He came home depressed. ‘What a waste,’ he said. ‘All those people saying all those wonderful things, and Irv never got to hear any of it.’”

This is not to say that praise, love, and recognition are withheld from most people until death. It is interesting, however, that we tend to reserve, perhaps unconsciously, our best thoughts and most charitable words until after loved ones have passed (and I am no exception). I wish we could collectively reverse this trend, perhaps by incorporating Morrie’s novel idea of a “living funeral”:

“Morrie had a better idea. He made some calls. He chose a date. And on a cold Sunday afternoon, he was joined in his home by a small group of friends and family for a ‘living funeral.’ Each of them spoke and paid tribute to [him]. Some cried. Some laughed. . . . Morrie cried and laughed with them. And all the heartfelt things we never get to say to those we love, Morrie said that day. His ‘living funeral’ was a rousing success.”

「生きてる時に、言えば良かった」

“Spirituality” – Religion of the 21st Century

Book Review: The Power of Now (by Eckhart Tolle)

*** / *****

Eckhart Tolle might be a prophet, for he could not have picked a better time to sell the world on “a guide to spiritual enlightenment.” According to one study, nearly two thirds (72%) of Millennials are claiming to be “more spiritual than religious.” Sam Harris, neuroscientist and prominent “new atheist,” is publishing a “guide to spirituality without religion” a month from now. Despite the rapid secularization of Western society, it would seem that we are not quite ready to give up our long-held (some would argue, evolutionary) religious sensibilities entirely. By and large, it appears that the postmodern individual still desires to be a “spiritual” one – just don’t use the word “religious,” lest you offend his/her enlightened sensibilities.

The Power of Now is a work that seeks to strip religion to its “essence” that, “has become almost completely obscured by [extraneous matter] . . . [the] deeper meaning is no longer recognized and [the] transformative power lost” (pp. 9). While there are no churches, no authoritative texts, no rituals, and no dogma in Tolle’s religion (for lack of a better term), it is functionally cut from the same familiar mold. He doesn’t seek to persuade by appeals to rational argument or scientific evidence; rather, much like Jesus in the New Testament, he invites the curious reader to “come and see” for themselves. “Is there any scientific evidence for this?” he asks hypothetically at one point. ”Try it out and you will be the evidence” (pp. 123). Frustrating to the skeptical reader, no doubt, but completely true to religious precedent, where knowing is a matter of feeling and where “the truth is recognized when it is heard” (pp. 10). “The mind cannot know the tree. It can only know facts or information about the tree. My mind cannot know you, only labels, judgments, facts, and opinions about you. Being [i.e., one’s inner self] alone knows directly” (pp. 54).

In truth, despite Tolle’s multiple invitations to “come and see,” I cannot review this book based on personal experience, for my attempts to practice the teachings have been limited. Thus, my judgment of the material is, admittedly, based solely on the persuasiveness of the arguments and my familiarity with religious experience. Despite my incredulous tone, there are several ideas in this book that are worthy of discussion. Here were a few that I found intriguing:

- The mind is a tool, not our complete identity. We should cultivate the ability to detach from our mind and “watch the watcher,” or observe the voices in our head dispassionately. “Your mind is an instrument, a tool. It is there to be used for a specific task, and when the task is completed, you lay it down. As it is, I would say about 80 to 90 percent of most people’s thinking is not only repetitive and useless, but because of its dysfunctional and often negative nature, much of it is also harmful” (pp. 21-22).

- Words are signposts – they point to higher meaning, but are inherently meaningless in and of themselves. Thus, we should avoid becoming too attached to a certain interpretation of a word, for it can “lend itself too easily to becom[e] no more than an idea in your head that you believe in, a mental idol” (pp. 14). “A word is no more than a means to an end. It’s an abstraction. Not unlike a signpost, it points beyond itself. . . . [Y]ou can talk or think about God continuously for the rest of your life, but does that mean you know or have even glimpsed the reality to which the word points? It really is no more than an obsessive attachment to a signpost, a mental idol” (pp. 108-109).

- We always have three options for dealing with any present circumstance: “remove yourself from the situation, change it, or accept it totally” (pp. 82). The point is, whatever you choose to do, be sure to do it fully, with conviction. “[I]s there something that you ‘should’ be doing but are not doing it? Get up and do it now. Alternatively, completely accept your inactivity, laziness, or passivity at this moment, if that is your choice. Go into it fully. . . . [Your mind] may say: ‘You should be working. You are wasting time.’ Observe the mind. Smile at it” (pp. 83-84).

These insights are not necessarily original – indeed, anyone who has delved into any of the world’s major religious traditions at any level is likely to find familiar territory. If Tolle has done anything noteworthy, it has been to synthesize weighty religious thought and abstract philosophy into something palatable for the everyday reader. Unfortunately, while Tolle’s prose is easy enough for the beginner to follow, much of the text is still seeped in masturbatory jargon that gives the impression of depth while offering little substance. I often felt like Tolle would purposefully hide behind buzzwords such as “Being” and “the Unmanifested” without explaining himself very clearly; as if verbosity were evidence of enlightened thought.

The Power of Now will primarily appeal to (a) those who are already adept at living in the present moment and (b) those who want individual religious experience without the baggage of organized religious experience. The book will validate the lifestyle of the former group while providing a lifestyle for the latter group. While I appreciate Tolle’s efforts to get us more centered on the present – “the most precious [time] there is,” (pp. 49) according to Tolle – there are those of us, myself included, who derive great meaning and spiritual understanding from reflection on the past and preparation for the future. Tolle argues that “[a]ny lesson from the past becomes relevant and is applied now. Any planning as well as working toward achieving a particular goal is done now,” which I wholeheartedly agree with. The only moment we can act upon is now.

But Tolle’s extreme, some might say myopic, focus on the present causes him to lose perspective at times, such as when he argues that, “If a fish is born in your aquarium and you call him John, write out a birth certificate, tell him about his family history, and two minutes later he gets eaten by another fish – that’s tragic. But it’s only tragic because you projected a separate self when there was none” (pp. 100). Tolle seems to be advocating that we become so divorced from our external identities founded in past experiences and perceptions that there can be no tragedy in death. But those external identities are precisely what keep us from being expendable. To strip humans of these identities is to dehumanize, and one need only briefly review the history of man’s inhumanity to man to understand why.

The past is important – not in some superficial way that bolsters our external egos, as Tolle frequently argues throughout the text, but as a fundamental part of our “Being” with a capital B. Indeed, there is no self of the “Now” that is not informed and molded by the past. A voice for balance in approaching the past, present, and future would have been appreciated; but, alas, with a book entitled The Power of NOW, the imbalance is understandable, albeit regrettable.

In conclusion, The Power of Now provides some interesting religious commentary to ponder and a handful of spiritual practices that aim to help one better focus on the present moment. I would hope, however, that readers do not mistake it as a “definitive” work on “spiritual enlightenment” – a new infallible Bible, if you will. At the very least, you are likely to find a few beneficial insights within these pages. However, treat it more like a stepping stone than a final destination.

Develop Who You Are, Not Who You Can’t Be – A Strengths-Centric Life

Book Review: StrengthsFinder 2.0 (by Tom Rath)

*** / *****

The premise is simple: we focus too much energy attempting to correct our perceived weaknesses when we ought to be using our best energy to hone our innate strengths. “[O]ur studies indicate that people who do have the opportunity to focus on their strengths every day are six times as likely to be engaged in their jobs and more than three times as likely to report having an excellent quality of life in general” (pp. iii).

This sounds like common sense – we are more likely to enjoy our life and work if we are competent at what we do. And yet, most of us are involuntarily subject to a cultural zeitgeist in which weaknesses receive the most attention and scrutiny: “In every culture we have studied, the overwhelming majority of parents (77% in the United States) think that a student’s lowest grades deserve the most time and attention. Parents and teachers reward excellence with apathy instead of investing more time in the areas where a child has the most potential for greatness” (pp. 7). Cue the collective nods from everyone who was terrible at algebra and/or geometry in grade school.

The skeptical observer might retort, “How are you supposed to protect yourself from danger if you don’t acknowledge and address your weaknesses? Excessive focus on your strengths will lead to hubris; before you know it, you’ll have a Trojan horse exposing your vulnerabilities.” Touché. Even Rath submits that, “[S]imply being aware of your areas of lesser talent can help you avoid major roadblocks” (pp. 22). A balance remains necessary, of course, but we will only realize so much of our potential when we lock up most of our time, energy, and effort in areas of incompetency. Rath argues that we maximize the proposed “strength” equation, “Talent x Investment = Strength,” when we invest most heavily in the talents that are latent within us: “[T]he most successful people start with dominant talent – and then add skills, knowledge, and practice to the mix. When they do this, the raw talent actually serves as a multiplier” (pp. 19-20).

While StrengthsFinder 2.0 is not always the most engaging read (in fact, it is probably better used as reference material), it is a valuable resource in helping one better discover, understand, and focus on one’s strengths. After a 30-page introduction explaining the premise, the remainder of the book is divided into 34 “themes of talent,” or sections that “represent our best attempt at creating a common language or classification of talents” (pp. 16). Each section includes an introductory statement about the talent, brief quotes from people who possess the talent, ideas for better cultivating the talent personally and professionally, and suggestions on how to work with people who have this talent. While recognizing that no such list can be comprehensive, the 34 themes appear to cover most of the territory. When I took the StengthsFinder 2.0 assessment at the conclusion of my reading, I felt like it accurately pinpointed my dominant areas of talent.

My primary criticisms have to do with the organization and presentation of the material. Too many of the ideas for action are rather general and assume a corporate work environment. I imagine that most readers who invest in this book are interested in better aligning their career path with their innate strengths; as such, it would have been appreciated if each section more fully outlined potential career paths associated with the related strength (most of the sections only have one or two sentences about specific industries or occupations). The assessment itself, while seemingly robust, can only be taken once and the end report only notifies you of your top five strengths. As someone familiar with the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) test, I would have liked access to the full test results, specifically regarding how I scored, comparatively, on all 34 talent themes. After all, Rath admits that “[t]he key is for you to be aware of your potential and your limitations” (pp. 24). Unfortunately, the assessment results currently don’t provide access to both sides of the spectrum.

One of my favorite insights from the book is captured in this mantra: “You cannot be anything you want to be – but you can be a lot more of who you already are” (pp. 9). I love that the emphasis is not about doing what you love, but rather, doing what you are naturally good at. There is a significant difference. For example, many people love to watch films, but few have the talent and skill needed to become a professional film critic, let alone a director, editor, or other professional in the film industry. Rudy Ruettiger loved football, but had no natural talent for the game: “While Rudy’s perseverance is admirable, in the end, he played a few seconds of college football and made a single tackle . . . after thousands of hours of practicing” (pp. 4). Fully embracing the “do what you love” maxim, as many twenty-somethings appear to be doing these days, can be disastrous if what you choose to do does not correspond with your innate and/or developed strengths. StrengthsFinder 2.0 is aimed at helping you avoid this trajectory. While the book itself is not perfect, and is often tedious, it should get you moving in the right direction.

TransMormon – A Personal Perspective

This is a short documentary about my friend Eri – a transgendered Mormon. We worked together a little over a year ago, and she fundamentally changed my perspective on transgendered individuals. She is an amazing person and I think her story is worth sharing. I think it’s a really beautiful documentary, particularly the insights from her parents, who are devout Mormons themselves.

My experience with Eri has reminded me that the walls of our prejudices have a tendency to crumble as we choose to associate with and befriend those who are the targets of our prejudice; through actively choosing to “mourn with those that mourn,” and empathize with those we might not be inclined to associate with at first blush.

I had a similar experience several years ago that initially taught me this lesson. During my freshman year at BYU I became hometeaching companions and friends with Steven, a homosexual Mormon. Like Eri, getting to know Steven fundamentally changed my perspective on homosexuals. I recently found out that Steven has chosen to remove his name from the records of the church. Understandably so, he doesn’t feel there is a place for him in the church. While I do not consider myself an activist, I can say that knowing both Eri and Steven has been a blessing in my life, and it is our loss if we lose them. Regardless if there are parts of their lifestyle that you disagree with, I think it is essential that we get to know and understand people like Eri and Steven. We will all be made better by such an effort. I know I have been.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Baby

Book Review: Brain Rules for Baby (by John Medina)

**** / *****

As a young father who has largely avoided the litany of parenting books on the market, I didn’t know what to expect from John Medina’s Brain Rules for Baby. Purchased on a whim at the recommendation of a friend, the book sat on my shelf, unread, for several months until I realized that my somewhat laissez-faire style of parenting probably wasn’t in the best interests of my children – my 15-month-old son and a baby daughter in the oven. Devouring its contents in about a week, I am very glad I had this epiphany sooner than later.

Despite being a “developmental molecular biologist” by trade, Medina is a refreshingly savvy writer, opting to avoid much of the jargon that would make the book impenetrable for the untrained layman like me. The book is divided into five clear, topical sections:

  • Pregnancy (how to help your baby develop while in utero)
  • Relationship (how to avoid the relationship pitfalls many couples experience post-partum)
  • Smart Baby (how to optimize your child’s brain development and intelligence)
  • Happy Baby (how to raise a happy, well-balanced child)
  • Moral Baby (how to help your child develop and nurture their moral compass)

Medina does his best to base his recommendations on robust scientific research, which is a plus. As he states early in the introduction, “To gain my trust, research must pass my ‘grump factor.’ To make it into this book, studies must first have been published in the refereed literature and then successfully replicated . . . Where I make an exception for cutting-edge research, reliable but not yet fully vetted by the passage of time, I will note it” (pp. 3). You can tell that he was very careful about choosing what material to include, later citing his distaste for research based on, “shoddy designs, biased agendas, lack of controls, non-randomized cohorts, too-few sample sizes, too few experiments – and lots of loud, even angry, opinions” (pp. 143). Medina knows his statistics, which makes it easier for me to trust that the recommendations he presents in the text have a solid foundation.

Perhaps inevitably, it’s hard to read a book like this and not feel somewhat inadequate and/or guilty – especially if you already have kids. I couldn’t help but think of how much TV I’ve already let my little boy watch, how much more I should be talking with him to bolster his language acquisition, etc. Fortunately, Medina readily admits that the ideal is not going to be the reality when it comes to parenting: “A family based on every suggestion in this book is fantasy” (pp. 254). Being a parent has its own learning curve, and we’re never going to perfectly implement best practices. But if reading this book only makes me a slightly better parent, it will still have been worth it.

So why not five stars? As much as I appreciate Medina’s “grump factor” in filtering out unreliable data, there are two important topics I felt should have received much more coverage, considering their relative importance in a child’s development: nutrition and music. Aside from nutritional imperatives for pregnant mothers, Medina has surprisingly little to say about nutrition beyond the breastfeeding stage. Perhaps he thought nutrition, one of the most controversial subjects out there, was intuitive?

As for music, Medina has a bit more to say, but I have mixed feelings about how he presented it. I counted only a couple instances where Medina had something positive to say about the effect of music on a child’s development, and in both cases music is cited as helping children better perceive others’ emotions, increasing their “ability to establish and maintain friendships” (pp. 273). That’s it for the positive; otherwise, Medina is fairly snarky in his dismissal of pro-music research, such as the idea that playing classical music will have a positive effect on a child’s development. While I respect his good intentions to clear up erroneous myths, I fear that parents might walk away from this book believing that music is non-essential at best, irrelevant at worst – a tragic conclusion either way, in my opinion.

Admittedly, I have a bias: I was raised by a mother who has been an advocate for music education and has proclaimed the positive effects of music on the brain for as long as I can remember (she even wrote a book on it: Good Music Brighter Children). Music has always been a major part of my life, and I intend to make it a priority with my own children. Considering Medina’s admittance early on that, “Most of the data we have [regarding baby brain development is] associative, not causal,” (pp. 7) it seems rather irresponsible for him to dismiss much of the positive research regarding music and brain development so flippantly. While music is certainly not a cure-all, I have good reason to believe, both from anecdotal experience and from the positive research I have read, that the effect of music on the brain goes far beyond simply helping children better perceive others’ emotions.

Despite my qualms, I would still highly recommend this book for prospective parents. What Medina left out does not invalidate what he included. There are some really excellent, practical ideas that all parents could benefit from (the book even closes with a “Practical Tips” chapter that breaks down much of the research into applicable chunks). While I am not an expert on “essential” parenting books, I am inclined to keep Medina’s work within arm’s length as I work on raising my young children.

Zakhar – “Can Ye Feel So Now?”

“Stresses in our lives come regardless of our circumstances. We must deal with them the best we can. But we should not let them get in the way of what is most important—and what is most important almost always involves the people around us.”

– Thomas S. Monson, “Finding Joy in the Journey,” October 2008

Today was one of those days when you are blessed to remember what “the things that matter most in life” are, and subsequently realize, with much chagrin, that you are not living in a way that gives them much priority. I have this experience every so often and it tends to follow a familiar pattern that looks something like this:

  1. Remembering one’s priorities
  2. Realizing the gap between one’s priorities and the reality of one’s lifestyle
  3. Feeling remorse for not giving one’s priorities proper attention/focus
  4. Seeking to repent and change one’s current lifestyle to better align with one’s priorities
  5. A few days or weeks of progress towards better focusing on one’s priorities
  6. Slowly (sometimes suddenly) losing the motivation/willpower to work as hard on one’s priorities
  7. Returning to one’s old lifestyle that puts priorities on the backburner
  8. An indefinite period of time when one is plateauing at best, rapidly declining at worst
  9. Remembering one’s priorities

I have always found Alma’s words to the people at Zarahemla – members of the church who had all experienced conversion at one point, yet drifted in their commitment – to be most poignant in this regard:

“And now behold, I say unto you, my brethren, if ye have experienced a change of heart, and if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now?” (Alma 5:26, emphasis added)

On the days like today when I remember and reflect on my priorities, Alma’s words here, invariably, come ringing to my ears. If you have experienced a change of heart . . . can you feel so now?

Reflection on Alma’s words brings me to something I learned earlier this year while studying the Hebrew Bible, or Old Testament. In the course of my study I came across an interesting footnote about the word remember: “Remembering, [the Hebrew word] ‘zakhar,’ is often a verb of action rather than simply thought” (The Jewish Study Bible, pp. 315). This footnote significantly augmented my understanding of what the scriptures mean when they call us to remember (a word which, as I understand it, is the most frequently repeated word in the entire canon of LDS scripture). Alma is calling us to remember so that we might do something – and, one might presume, something lasting. Quite naturally, we find him preaching about the need for repentance only a few verses later: “Behold, [the Lord] sendeth an invitation unto all men, for the arms of mercy are extended towards them, and he saith: Repent, and I will receive you” (Alma 5:33).

As grateful and humbled as I am to have these opportunities to remember, there is a cynical part of me that can’t help but lament, “This is just the beginning of a cycle I have experienced countless times before; why should this time be any different? I am damned to live in the loop ad infinitum.” When remembering leads to action (i.e., repentance), how can we ensure that it is lasting, and not something that lasts for merely a few days, weeks, or months?

Remembering “the things that matter most in life” is a blessing. Taking the extra step to ensure that this act is more than “simply [a] thought” is the challenging, albeit essential, part. Even more challenging is the process of sustaining progressive action, which is where the cycle tends to perpetuate itself in my model outlined above. I have yet to find a satisfying solution to the problem that we might call “enduring to the end.” Is the cycle inevitable, or is it possible to always live in a way in which one’s actions are continually and consistently aligned with one’s priorities? Clearly no one will be perfect in this regard, but I assume there are those who fare better than others, and not just by chance. I wish to learn from them.

Today I remembered for a moment what it was like to “sing the song of redeeming love.” But the heart is fickle and tomorrow is a new day with no guarantees. The day after that comes the return to the daily grind of work, the routine of suburban living. The noise and the distractions will follow suit. Will I be able to hear it then?