Tag Archives: Creep

This week in spurious lawsuits: Radiohead sue Lana Del Rey

At the risk of making myself unpopular…

The Radiohead/Lana Del Rey lawsuit is super depressing for anyone who thought Radiohead were good guys. And, I admit, I did.

The similarities first. Creep is built on a continuously repeating four-chord pattern: G, B minor, C, C minor (or in musicological terms, I-iii-IV-iv). Get Free has the same progression in its elongated verse/bridge section. Its chorus is a different progression. The vocal melodies are quite different, but in places the phrasing of Get Free is somewhat similar to Creep – where the vocal starts and ends in relation to the bar lines.

I suspect this latter detail is what their case will hinge on because the idea of Radiohead suing anyone for writing something harmonically similar to Creep when they themselves were sued by Albert Hammond and Mike Hazlewood for Creep’s harmonic similarity to The Air That I Breathe (made famous by the Hollies) doesn’t pass the laugh test. Or, rather, it shouldn’t if the judge has any musical literacy at all.*

For what it’s worth, I think the idea of a songwriter suing another over shared chord sequences is inherently bullshit, and analogous to suing over similarity of drum pattern. Chord sequences have been used and reused thousands of times by thousands of songwriters. At what point do you say a chord pattern is well known enough to not constitute one writer’s intellectual property? The very common sequences ii-V-I and I-V-vi-IV seem to be safe. I-IV-V (the basis of the vast majority of blues songs) is definitely safe. So why is I-iii-IV-iv so (fucking) special that Thom Yorke thinks he owns it (or rather co-owns it with Hammond and Hazlewood)?

As for the melody, there’s a bit of a resemblance, but it’s not so marked that you’d be able to pick out the similarity if someone sang you the two tunes a capella, one after the other.

Comments in the press have been predictably depressing, with loads of people taking Radiohead’s side just because they’re Radiohead and Lana Del Rey is a pop singer. Which is no less depressing just for being predictable. Accidental resemblances to other people’s work are bound to happen within pop songwriting when tens of thousands of new songs get written every year. There are two responses possible – everyone can sue everyone for everything all the time. Or, everyone can acknowledge that they themselves have at some time written something that’s a bit like something else without realising, and therefore choose not to be obnoxious about enforcing copyright. Take the high road. Be a grown-up.

A curse on Radiohead’s house if they don’t call off their lawyers. Or perhaps David Byrne can teach them a lesson by suing them for 100% of all past and future earnings for ripping off the name of one of his songs for their band name.

*Judging by the history of copyright-infringement suits, few judges do have any musical literacy. Expect Radiohead to win.


OK Computer is 20, part 3 – Guest post #1

Actually, let’s do something different. I’m going to hand this one over to Sara Kriegel:

This album. I don’t remember when I bought it. I’m not really that kind of music geek. I remember thinking Creep was stupid and ignoring Radiohead for a while. Then I saw the video for High & Dry. I have no idea even if I owned The Bends before OK Computer. Possibly not. It certainly hardly matters.

What does matter is the utter devotion/partial (total) obsession that came at some point. I watched, full of admiration and a bit of envy, as one of my friends at school learned the guitar parts and played along with the whole album. I listened to it hundreds of times. I hit repeat on track 5 thousands of times. I know exactly how the record starts, and what happens after that. When I hear any song on the radio, I hear the next one begin when it ends. I could listen to it in my head right now. but I won’t. I will keep writing this (soz).

Probably every paper I wrote at uni was written to this album (or The Bends). I had more than one copy so I could leave one in my car. We blasted it out the window while playing Frisbee. We smoked a fair amount of weed and talked endlessly about it. Listen to it again – I guarantee you will hear something you didn’t before. Every fucking time, it gets me all over again.

What the hell do you really say about this record? Guitars, drums, vocals. Goddammit, every angle – nailed. Just Airbag – the first five seconds are a revelation. Who opens a rock album with sleighbells?

People like to accuse Radiohead of being depressing. Those people are depressing. OK, the lyrics lean towards the dystopian, but how can you listen to this and not feel amazing? LISTEN TO WHAT THESE GUYS MADE, DUDE!!! It’s awesome! COME ON!

I even love what I hate. The line in SHA, “making home movies for the folks back home”. I am a big enough nerd to know that was not the original version of this line, and I’ll admit the song on the album is better than previous attempts, but I still believed then that Thom could have sorted that out if he wanted to. But, as with a person, faults become an integral part of what you adore about them. Plus, by the time shit starts swirling around and Thom Yorke is yelling “uptight” over and over, you hardly care anymore.

We don’t need a breakdown of every song here, but I’d be remiss, and Ross would faint of shock, if I didn’t mention Let Down. I don’t know how this song isn’t in the canon of whatever best things are that ever happened to humanity. Phil Selway was hosting a 6 Music show not that long ago, and lamented that they never played it live initially (to which I can attest: five states’ and three countries’ worth of Radiohead gigs in the 2000s always left me – yes, I’m going to do it – let down). but they play it now, now that I’ve given up on seeing them live again because it’s expensive and what really is going to top the first time i saw them in Newport, Wales, in their own acoustically perfect tent in 2000? Baked out of my mind, lying on the ground watching the sunset-pink clouds go by during No Surprises, being SO excited (youth) when they played Lucky because it has my name in it… Yeah, nothing.

Hmm, digress. First Exit Music ends. You’ve been without gravity in the darkness for just over four minutes. Very bad things are going on. But then, suddenly there is a difference between the sky and the horizon… what the FUCK is that guitar doing? I dunno, and before you have a chance to figure it out, here come the drums, doing something equally perfect. Just when you get used to that, enter Thom with lyrics that I’m convinced are just not depressing; they just sounded right along with the music. As a matter of fact, I have no interest in what this song is really about. And crashing cymbals. And all these bouncing dinging twanging noises that take up space in your brain. Then… ‘a chemical reaction, hysterical and useless’… ‘floor collapsing, falling’. Maybe I’m the only one who thinks this, but basically that is love in a nutshell. It’s a love song.

Best if I stop here, and with this: I’m not sure there will ever be speakers big enough or knobs that go to 11 enough for me when it comes to listening to OK Computer. It is possibly why I have tinnitus (which, incidentally, Brits pronounce oddly*).

*This intrigued me, so I asked Sara what she meant and the following conversation was the result. Two useful things to know: Sara is my boss. She’s American.

Ross Palmer [12:19]:

how do brits pronounce tinnitus? how do you pronounce it?

Sara Kriegel [12:20]:

i say tin eye tus

you say tin it tus

Ross Palmer [12:20]:

but that’s correct!

Sara Kriegel [12:20]:

no it’s not

it’s stupid

how do you pronounce



Ross Palmer [12:20]:

but the word is related to tintinnabulation – a faint ringing sound

the suffix -itis means inflamtion

tinnitus is not inflamation of the tin

you suck it!

Sara Kriegel [12:30]:

it’s itus

Ross Palmer [12:32]:

you’re wrong

Sara Kriegel [12:33]:

you’re fired