Pyramid Song
The keys invade the ears like American drop boats on the Normandy coast. By the time Thom Yorke’s troubled voice pierces the simple melody, the listener is lost in a sea of oxymoronic tones and lyrics. As the electronic whisper protrudes into the layers of piano, the metaphorical lyrics beg to be deciphered. Unfortunately the listener is still caught on the “I jumped in the river, what did I see; black eyed angels swam with me,” line to think much else about the rest of the lexis. The subtle tones, the disturbingly calm melody, and lyrics that require individual interpretation make “Pyramid Song” a mind-boggling masterpiece that in turn invokes numerous listens.
One of the most important things a song needs to accomplish is originality, or at least the illusion of originality through the usage of new techniques on old mechanisms. “Pyramid Song” attempts this accomplishment by layering the classically used, simplistic piano with a series of seemingly computer generated, ambient sounds and then throwing in a set of repeated, metaphorical lyrics. Now, one might want to place an ‘electronica genre’ label on the song because of the alleged artificial sounds but by doing so, one would be excluding two things: first, the obvious repeated keys of the airport lounge piano rhythm that flow the extent of the song, and second, the subtle jazz drum line that bridges halfway into the tune.
What the piano does for this piece of music is stabilize the ears. While doing this, the focus remains on the constant, repetitive notes being banged out to an almost bothersome degree. Yet by steadying the listeners’ ears to a simple rhythm, Thom Yorke’s voice is able to perforate into the song’s clever minimalism. Yorke then begins singing and the melody takes off as though it were catapulted from Dionysius’ dreams. Singing, “I jumped in the river, what did I see; black eyed angels swam with me,” Yorke persuades the listener to join him on his odyssey. The question that begs to be answered is of course: Where is Yorke leading the listener? At first, one might assume that the journey is flowing down an abandoned river that leads to some sort of transcendental heaven. Or maybe it is more parsimonious than that. As the title suggests, perhaps Yorke is taking the listener on a trip up the Nile River and the angels he sees are simply the Pharaohs spirits that have been left behind. But one will quickly come to the conclusion that Yorke is not in a river at all; he is simply traveling through time, or space, or whatever it is souls travel through after they leave the body. What is being described is the way in which the soul ascends: with grace, with fluidity, and with steadiness, hence the repeated notes being pedaled on the piano.
After the confusion from the first line wears off, Yorke then hits the listener with another complex lyric to ponder: “A moon full of stars and astral cars; and all the figures I used to see.” At first glance, this lyric seems one-dimensional and the modest music in the background confirms the assumption. Yet, one needs to digest the lyric and also, perhaps, consult a dictionary for the meaning of the word astral. The most superficial definition for the word is ‘star-shaped.’ Now if the listener simply accepts this notion, Yorke would merely be repeating himself by saying there are stars and cars that look like stars. But one needs to dig deeper into the word to find the true meaning. Astral in biology pertains to the resemblance of an aster, or the structure formed in a cell during mitosis. Mitosis is of course when a cell splits into two different parts. Leading to the final step in deciphering the word’s true meaning: separation. In theosophy, otherwise known as the thought or insight into the divine nature and existence of God, astral signifies the second body that individuals have inside of them. This second body, sometimes referred to as the soul, is able to leave the physical body at any moment and also survives the individual after death. The astral cars are seen as transports for this second body to the next life. In addition, Yorke acknowledges seeing all the figures he used to see. This is a direct indication of being able to see life as he used to, yet the world as he once knew it has become distorted into no more than recognizable figures.
After deciding that this odyssey is in fact a post death experience, the next line defines what lies ahead for Yorke and his listeners. “All my lovers were there with me; all my past and futures,” bursts out of Yorke’s vocal chord and the listener is again asked to decipher the message. “All my lovers,” could be interpreted as simply those whom Yorke was intimate with, perhaps strictly sexually. But this notion excludes so many and would make the afterlife a truly limited engagement. Thus, the line must be interpreted as all those who loved him, or he loved, or more inclusively put, those who were special to Yorke in some way. The next line, however, is the deal breaker. “All my past and futures,” signifies quite bluntly that there will be more lovers to come. Taking this into account, the listener will revisit Theosophy and when he or she does, a great discovery will be waiting. Theosophy mixes religions, namely Buddhism and Brahmanism, and draws heavily on the concept of reincarnation. Thus the “futures” is explained; Yorke is on his way to a new life and is joined by other souls that will be his lovers in the next life. (As a side note, Yorke himself has said to have written this song after reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead, a Buddhist penned book which deals heavily with the happenings of the after life.)
By this time in the tune, a few sounds have begun to appear and their origins are mysteries in themselves. What one might think is strictly computer generated noise is in fact a mixture of a double bass and an organ. What one might presume to be a synthesizer is actually an early electronic instrument called an ondes martenot, which involves a combination of a keyboard and slide to create oscillating frequencies. All these sounds are picking up in a somewhat disturbing way, conflicting with one another and agitating the listeners’ senses to the point where one may feel uneasy or awkward. Then as the last line of the first verse drops, the conflicting noises follow suit. Yorke concludes, “And we all went to heaven in a little rowboat; there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt.” As the piano strikes one’s senses back to reality, the listener begins to see that the original voyage as one that was frightening yet somehow Yorke sees hope and is tranquil in his discovery. Additionally, after traveling through what may indeed be the spiritual realm that supersedes all life, Yorke is back in the comfort and stability of the water and his “little rowboat.” Following this realization and acceptance, the piano begins to bang louder and louder into the listeners’ psyches. Then the disconcerting sounds come back, chased by Yorke’s voice humming a universal cry that one attaches to immediately. This cry is nothing more than a soothing anthem for all of the spirits in the rowboat to take comfort in.
As Yorke continues to hum, a familiar yet unsettling sound joins his voice. The sound is alien and at first listen could be confused again for some sort of artificial electronic instrument but once more Radiohead overwhelms the senses by simply using a guitar. More precisely put, a method for playing guitar termed ‘slide guitar,’ in which the player simply slides a small piece of metal over the strings to create a foreign sound. The sound follows Yorke’s voice note for note and creates a sort of forged harmony inviting each listener and each soul to immediately join in. After a few moments of uninterrupted harmonizing, the pervasive jazz drum line breaks the meditation and once again brings the listener and Yorke back to reality. In this case, the drum represents the homogeny of the world. It is the only piece of the song that draws heavily on prior percussion procedures and allows the listener to take on an assumption: Yorke is back in the uniform world with his next life ready to be played out.
After the harmonizing ends and the drum line becomes part of the patterned background music, Yorke jumps back into the river, repeating the original verse word for word. Only this time, the mood of the music is a little more comfortable since Yorke and his listeners have gone through the experience before. The tempo is sped a bit, representing the way in which repetitiveness and routine eventually become so natural that they seem to travel faster through time. As the verse is sung completely through for a second time, Yorke approaches his realization again and again: that life and the after life are “nothing to fear and nothing to doubt.” By repeating his words, Yorke reminds the listener that he has been reincarnated and will be so over and over again. Lucky for Yorke, he has come to terms with this concept and his acceptance of the cycle no longer inspires fear but hope. Hope for a better life the next time around. Hope for a better love the next time around. Hope for a better world the next time around.
“Pyramid Song” takes each individual on a different journey with every listen. But its attempt at giving universal truth to the most mysterious question posed by mankind is something important for every listener to grasp. As with any religion or philosophy, interpretation is imperative when attempting to come to terms with what lies at the heart of life’s significance. In Radiohead’s world, there is this life and there are past lives, and there are lives to come. And as the astral cars transport the souls of past and future loves from one life to the next, all should take comfort in the fact that while in the comfort of a supernatural rowboat there is nothing to fear and nothing to doubt.
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