illusionofjoy | Where I End And You Begin

It was an impulse buy, but it was a good one. I refer to the new Radiohead disc Hail To The Thief. After I left the library on Tuesday, I went right to the nearest record store and purchased a copy. Strangely enough, it wasn't on the new releases rack. I had to ask the clerk specifically for it.

"Yes, we have it," the round-faced, brown-haired girl behind the counter said, producing two copies of the disc from behind the counter. "Do you want the regular or deluxe edition?"

I pondered to myself for a moment before asking, "what's so special about the deluxe edition?" My mind flashed with images of bonus DVDs, extra tracks, extended CD booklets and multimedia goodies. Instead, I was shown what amounted to a different CD package - one that folded out into a poster. I chose the regular edition, saving myself $6.00. Knowing the music business, I figured that said disc would likely be remastered with bonus tracks, etc. in about 10-20 years anyhow, and paying extra money for a different albeit limited-edition package was foolish at best. Besides, it probably wouldn't have fit as neatly into my CD rack.

I brought the CD to my friend's apartment and we listened to it together. Might I say that this is the most impressive piece of work I have heard in a while. I don't want to write a full review yet...not without listening to it a few more times. Suffice it to say that this will be in my top ten for 2003. This is assuming of course, that I listen to ten new discs in 2003.

I long for the days of my college radio tenure when I got to hear everything - most of it before anyone else even got a chance to. It may be shallow of me to feel this way, but I was actually annoyed that I didn't know that exact release date of Hail To The Thief until it was right on top of me, and even more annoyed that I had to wait to listen to the whole thing like the rest of the mere mortals outside of the loop.

Even though it led itself to a certain degree of elitism, I liked being "in the loop!" I liked the fact that I could just call up a promoter and talk about music for a while, and ask for whatever and usually get it. I have no reason to talk to promoters anymore and they especially have no reason to talk to me since I'm no one important (i.e.: someone that could have an impact on the CMJ 200).

More than just knowing, I liked sharing. It excited me to listen to a spectacular album and then play the fuck out of it on the radio before the commercial stations even - if ever - got their grubby little paws on it. I liked being the guy who said to a sizeable group of people, "hey! This is good - check it out! I hope you love it as much as I do." True, the urge to share is still there, which is why I went over to my friend's place with the new Radiohead, but nothing quite compares to that public voice. The thrill of exposing a group to something wonderful all at once...there's nothing like it.

I don't have that thrill. I don't have a music directing gig, nor even a DJing gig. I don't even have a place to plug in and hear oodles of new releases easily at the moment. I'm like a junkie who has lost his fix. The withdrawal, while not a killer, is still very painful and I'm not even sure if this feeling will ever go away.

So, yes, I love the new Radiohead. I also loved all the perks that came with the radio though...and I miss it terribly.