Life is a bowl of cherries for Radiohead's Thom Yorke. No, really -- he insists. He's not quite as put-upon as he's invariably made out to be. 

The material suggests otherwise. America first became aware of Yorke in 1993, when he agonized about what a "Creep" he was. Four years later his band released "OK Computer," its masterpiece of modern-world alienation. Last year's brooding reverie "Kid A" and its sister project, the brand-new "Amnesiac," provide further proof that peace of mind eludes Radiohead. 

For the new album, however, Yorke and his band mates have vowed to make themselves (if not the music) more accessible. The inscrutable singer is even doing a few interviews; on the eve of a headlining appearance at Shoreline Amphitheatre, he granted us one, by e-mail. Happy-go-lucky he's not, but he's working on it. 

Q: Your rants against computers are astute and very funny, yet you conduct your interviews by e-mail. Isn't that a contradiction? 

A: E-mail is better than a phone for me. I can't think quick on the phone. 

Q: My Radiohead records are filed between Rachel's (the indie chamber-music group) and Rage Against the Machine. I have a theory that bands are often a perfect blend of the two groups that sandwich them in alphabetical order. Anything to it? 

A: It depends if you're in the rock and pop section or not. And what the hell is indie chamber music? 

Q: What happened to all those guitars that were supposed to be on "Amnesiac"? 

A: Oh yes, "Kid A" was just an aberration. We lost our way, lost our roots. You see, music with guitars has soul, apparently, and everything else is going off the rails one way or another. It is, therefore, the duty of the cream of British music critics to steer us back. Although at least guitars don't crash. 

Q: The new album and "Kid A" are stuffed with repeated phrases that seem to float freely in space: "women and children first," "Ice Age coming," "where'd you park the car?" What do you do to quiet your mind? 

A: I put all of its junk in songs and inflict them on other people, safe in the knowledge that whatever virus it was that gave me them has left me for good. 

Q: Brass-band funeral marches figure prominently on songs on each of the previous two albums. Why? 

A: Charlie Mingus. He changed the way I heard everything forever. Especially "Freedom" from "The Complete Town Hall Concert" (on Blue Note). It's what I thought rock music was... It was like hearing voices from beyond. The horns hit all the hidden notes you'd forgotten about. Like the first time I heard Sonic Youth. 

Q: There's an alarming number of vague Billy Joel references in the new song titles -- "Life in a Glasshouse," "I Might Be Wrong." Intentional? 

A: I don't know any Billy Joel. Except that one about "still rock 'n' roll to me" which I remember singing along to in a megastore. 

Q: Had you changed diapers before the arrival of your new baby, Noah? 

A: No, but it's OK. Even his s-- is golden, except when I am hung over. And in his sick are pearls from the ocean. I have them all over my suit to prove it. 

Q: Can you see characteristics of yourself already in Noah? If so, how scary is that? 

A: I think he's got my temper, poor chap. He sticks his lower lip out when he doesn't get his own way. This is also familiar. And of course he is absolutely beautiful, naturally. It's funny, but I don't find it scary. It makes sense. I was absolutely obsessed with death all the way through "Kid A"/"Amnesiac." Now I'm not. 

Q: Are you a picky eater? 

A: (Another lifestyle question? Along the lines of what makeup do I use and how do I spend my spare time?) I am vegetarian. Which means in France I want to be sick all the time. In Germany and Portugal I hardly eat at all until I leave. But when I am hungry I get very desperate. I draw the line at cheese in a can, however. Days and days traveling in the United States living on tortilla chips and salsa can also take its toll. 

Q: Novels or nonfiction? 

A: Nonfiction for a long time. Novels to keep me human. There's a book called "Hunger" by Knut Hamsun I just read -- novel that I identified a lot with. And at the moment I'm reading George Monbiot's book called "The Captive State," about the corporate takeover of Britain. Another lifestyle question? 

Q: You've sung with Bjork and PJ Harvey. Who's on your wish list? 

A: I'll go anywhere. I'm cheap as well. 

Q: Despite the title of your concert film, "Meeting People Is Easy," it would appear that it's not. 

A: It goes in phases. Depends whether the person concerned wants anything. Recent example would be sitting in a Jacuzzi being harassed by a would-be manager of a nineteen yr old singer-songwriter. Would I be interested in listening to his demo? By the way, he is a friend of the head of Warner/Chappell (music publishing) blah blah bubble bubble bubble ... 

Q: Do you set goals for the band, or yourself personally? 

A: NO. That's soooo '80s, dahling. Personally I'd like to not be ill next time we tour. That would be nice. To spend less time making the next album, or EPs or whatever. Oh yes, and we've got to sort out our studio. It's a nightmare -- cables, guitars, samplers, disks, pllugs, light fittings, old coffee cups, tapes, DATs on the floor, paper everywhere, bits of wood, five different drum kits and cymbals and stuff, plug adapters that make no sense. Two Apple II computers, broken psychedelic lighting, three years of ignored paperwork, soft toys, candles, speakers, paintings and drawings and photocopies, broken synths, calculators, outboard gear that has never worked since we bought it. 

Q: What would be the ideal way for a band like Radiohead to go out? 

A: Ummm . . . fistfight. Blood all over the carpet.