Interview with Radiohead frontman Thomas Edward Yorke

(NME Magazine, December 1995)

"Thom Yorke stands alone backstage at Nottingham Rock City. He stares at the walls, stares at the floor and
sighs. When the press officer approaches, Yorke looks up, his face a picture of discontent, then measures up the
person next to his press officer - a journalist. An invader.

The press officer asks how he is and he lies "Fine," eyes wide, shoulders tight, hands hanging limp at his sides.
For two minutes he tells her about his troubles, then wanders back to the dressing room and his girlfriend, still
shuffling restlessly. A mass of contradictions, he wants to be here and he wants to be far away. He wants to be with
his girlfriend and yet..he doesn't.

They talk for a few moments, then Yorke's girlfriend ambles off into the crowd. Yorke walks into catering, looks
blankly at the food then returns to his dressing room. He sits briefly then drifts away yet again, unable to sit still
for more than a minute..

Three hours later Yorke is again backstage, this time smiling, Nottingham enjoyed tonight's show. He talks to his
girlfriend animatedly and for a fleeting moment, affectionately. Soon, she leaves and for a moment, Yorke is sullen
and mumbling miserably, before shrugging off the disappointment and talking to two female fans who have
procured backstage passes. One is from Japan and urges him to drink more vodka, though Yorke declines. The
other is coy and gives him an inflatable birthday cake for Jonny. "Where did you get this?" he asks incredulously.
"Oh, I found it in my house," she bluffs. The singer smiles his gracious rock smile, places the cake on the floor
and says he'll leave it outside Jonny's door.

Then he's off wandering again; amiable, chatting, snatching food where he can. All the time he's smiling, content
that he performed well, pleased that tonight's gig was so good.

Clearly, this is not the Thom Yorke of old. The Yorke who was prone to panic attacks, spitting, swearing, and
desperately bleak moods. The people around him can't believe how comfortable and confident he is in this dressing
room full of people. He's changing they reckon. And they're right. No longer crippled by an enormous, irrational
fear of failure, there are times tonight when he positively revels in the acclaim and attention, when he enjoys being
in Radiohead. When he feels momentarily satisfied. He can't quite believe how he got here, how easy it all now
seems. Yep, Thom Yorke is lucky, and tonight he knows it. He really does.

The most important British band of 1995? it could well be Radiohead. It is Radiohead, after all, who have defined
fashion rather than followed it, who have kept a healthy distance from the hedonistic excesses of Britpop and
refused to indulge in cocaine binges, chic heroine habits, and the brash arrogance of their contemporaries.

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