"No--what an absurd idea. I came of my own accord on account of my ardent desire, my thirst, to discover the land of my birth and to find out who my parents were, that is all."
O'Donoghan smiled, proudly:
"Ah, that is what you want to know," he said. "Well, it is true that I can tell you. It is true that I know."
"Tell me--tell me!" cried Erik, seeing that he hesitated. "Tell me and I promise you pardon for all the evil that you have done, and my everlasting gratitude if I am ever in a position to show it!"
The Irishman gave a covetous look at the leathern bottle.
"It makes my throat dry to talk so much," he said, in a faint tone. "I will drink a little more if you are willing to give it to me."
"There is no more here, but we can get some at our depot of provisions. We have two large cases of brandy there," answered Erik, handing the bottle to Mr. Hersebom.
The latter immediately walked away, followed by Kaas.
"They will not be gone long," said the young man, turning toward his companion. "Now, my brave fellow, do not make merchandise of your confidence. Put yourself in my place. Suppose that during all your life you had been ignorant of the name of your country, and that of your mother, and that at last you found yourself in the presence of a man who knew all about it, and who refused the information which was of such inestimable value to you, and that at the very time when you had saved him, restored him to consciousness and life. I do not ask you to do anything impossible. I do not ask you to criminate yourself if you have anything to reproach yourself with. Give me only an indication, the very slightest. Put me on the track, so that I can find my family; and that is all that I shall ask of you."
"By my faith, I will do you this favor!" said Patrick, evidently moved. "You know that I was a cabin-boy on board the 'Cynthia'?"
He stopped short.
Erik hung upon his words. Was he at last going to find out the truth? Was he going to solve this enigma and discover the name of his family, the land of his birth? Truly the scene appeared to him almost chimerical. He fastened his eyes upon the wounded man, ready to drink in his words with avidity. For nothing in the world would he have interfered with his recital, neither by interruption nor gesture. He did not even observe that a shadow had appeared behind him. It was the sight of this shadow which had stopped the story of Patrick O'Donoghan.
"Mr. Jones!" he said, in the tone of a school-boy detected in some flagrant mischief.
Erik turned and saw Tudor Brown coming around a neighboring hummock, where until this moment he had been hidden from their sight.
The exclamation of the Irishman confirmed the suspicion which during the last hour had presented itself to his mind.
Mr. Jones and Tudor Brown were one and the same person.
He had hardly time to make this reflection before two shots were heard.
Tudor Brown raised his gun and shot Patrick O'Donoghan through the heart, who fell backward.
Then before he had time to lower his rifle, Tudor Brown received a bullet in his forehead, and fell forward on his face.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
lv wallets 573 71 05 2 55 “ Jersey City 951 29 51 21
2,573
71 05
2 55
“ Jersey City
951
29 51
21,740
1356 41
377 30
Total time occupied in tour, 1,734 hours and 11 minutes, being 72 days, 6 hours and 11 minutes.
Average rate of speed per hour, exclusive of stops, 22.47 miles.
Average rate of speed, including stops, 28.71 miles per hour.
The names of the steamers and the different routes by which I traveled were the “Augusta Victoria” of the Hamburg American Steamship Line, the London and South Western Railway, the South Eastern Railway, the India Mail, the “Victoria” and the “Oriental” of the Peninsular and Oriental Steamship Line, the “Oceanic,” of the Occidental and Oriental Steamship Line, the Southern Pacific Railway, the Atlantic and Pacific Railway, the Atchison, Topeka and Sante Fé Railway and the Pennsylvania Railway.
I spent 56 days 12 hours and 41 minutes in actual travel and lost by delay 15 days 17 hours and 30 minutes.
The second table shows the miles traveled, hours spent in traveling and hours delayed. The “hours delayed” marked by a star shows the time spent in diverging from my original line of travel to visit M. and Mme. Jules Verne at Amiens. I traveled 179-1/2 miles out of my way to visit the great novelist which is not considered in my number of miles traveled, nor do I count the miles traveled at the ports where I was detained, which taken together would not fall short of 1,500 miles.
Up to date, my trip is the fastest on record between San Francisco and Chicago. One run was 250 miles in 250 minutes, and that, counting the minutes lost stopping at a half dozen different towns. Another run was 59 miles in 50 minutes. Between Topeka and Kansas City we ran 13 miles in 11 minutes. Later we ran a mile in 53 seconds, and again 26 miles in 23 minutes. We made 2,566 miles in 69 hours, which is the fastest time, I am informed, that has been made for this distance. Although the Sante Fe route is over 500 miles longer than the Union Pacific, we beat the time of the fastest mail to Chicago by ten hours. If we had had the same distance to travel we would have beaten it twenty-four hours. The Santa Fé had only one day to prepare for my trip, and yet everything was perfect. They tell me when the Palmer-Jarrett “Across the Continent” trip was made they had been preparing for it for six months in advance, and when the start was made a flagman was posted at every switch and crossing between New York and San Francisco, and yet without any preparations my train traveled 500 miles farther and beat their time by 24 hours.
It is not possible to quote my fares and expenses as a criterion for prospective tourists, as I was traveling for a newspaper, and what it cost is their secret. Not counting the extra train, if first-class tickets had been bought from New York to New York it would only have cost $805. By using economy, outside expenses should not exceed $300.
cheap lv handbags sale See that canoe over there
"See that canoe over there," broke in Pepper, and pointing to another boat. "They will be in trouble pretty soon if they don't watch out."
"Where away?" asked Rand.
"Over there by the other shore," replied Pepper. "They will turn turtle sure, if that wave catches them sideways."
The boys were resting on their oars, watching the rapidly-approaching boat.
"Maybe we had better row over that way," suggested Donald. "There are a couple of girls in the canoe and they may need some help."
"That chap is all right," concluded Rand, after he had watched the canoe for a little while. "He knows how to handle it. He is doing fine. See, he is just touching the water with his paddle, so as to keep it head-on. Maybe he thinks we will need some help."
Nevertheless, the boys kept on a course that would bring them near enough to the canoe to aid its occupants if they should need it.
"Now look at that!" cried Donald suddenly, when the boys were a hundred yards from the canoe. "Did you ever see such a fool trick as that? Just when he was coming out all right, too. Pull for ail you are worth, boys!"
Even as he spoke the boys had gripped their oars and sent their boat at racing speed for the canoe.
What had called forth Donald's exclamation was, that just as the Dart was passing the canoe one of the girls, who was seated in the stern, had suddenly risen to her feet to wave her handkerchief at some one on the yacht. As she stood up the swell from the yacht caught the light craft, rolling it from side to side, and the girl losing her balance pitched headlong over the side of the boat, capsizing it. In a moment they were all struggling in the river. As the canoe went over the man caught the girl nearest to him and helped her to the boat and then turned to aid the other girl, but she had disappeared.
"Nellie!" he called, striking out in the direction he had last seen her. "Nellie, Nellie! where are you?"
By this time the boys had reached the scene of the upset.
"Keep up your courage," shouted Rand, "we'll pick you up!"
"Never mind me!" called the young man as they came near. "See if you can't save my sister. She doesn't know how to swim."
"All right," called Rand, "we'll find her."
"Where has she gone?" asked Donald.
"I don't see anything of her," said Rand, who was standing in the bow of the boat intently watching for any sign of the girl. "Yes, there she is." A pale face had appeared for a moment on the surface. "Straight ahead, boys!"
As the boat came to the spot where he had seen her Rand made a long dive overboard, coming up a moment later with the inanimate body of the girl. He was joined almost immediately by Donald, who had followed him overboard, and so aided him in supporting her until Pepper and Jack had reached them with the boat.
It required no little effort on the part of the boys to get the helpless girl into the boat, but it was finally done, and they rowed back to the assistance of the others. The other girl was helped from the overturned canoe, to which she was clinging, into their boat which was now loaded to its full capacity.
"Where away?" asked Rand.
"Over there by the other shore," replied Pepper. "They will turn turtle sure, if that wave catches them sideways."
The boys were resting on their oars, watching the rapidly-approaching boat.
"Maybe we had better row over that way," suggested Donald. "There are a couple of girls in the canoe and they may need some help."
"That chap is all right," concluded Rand, after he had watched the canoe for a little while. "He knows how to handle it. He is doing fine. See, he is just touching the water with his paddle, so as to keep it head-on. Maybe he thinks we will need some help."
Nevertheless, the boys kept on a course that would bring them near enough to the canoe to aid its occupants if they should need it.
"Now look at that!" cried Donald suddenly, when the boys were a hundred yards from the canoe. "Did you ever see such a fool trick as that? Just when he was coming out all right, too. Pull for ail you are worth, boys!"
Even as he spoke the boys had gripped their oars and sent their boat at racing speed for the canoe.
What had called forth Donald's exclamation was, that just as the Dart was passing the canoe one of the girls, who was seated in the stern, had suddenly risen to her feet to wave her handkerchief at some one on the yacht. As she stood up the swell from the yacht caught the light craft, rolling it from side to side, and the girl losing her balance pitched headlong over the side of the boat, capsizing it. In a moment they were all struggling in the river. As the canoe went over the man caught the girl nearest to him and helped her to the boat and then turned to aid the other girl, but she had disappeared.
"Nellie!" he called, striking out in the direction he had last seen her. "Nellie, Nellie! where are you?"
By this time the boys had reached the scene of the upset.
"Keep up your courage," shouted Rand, "we'll pick you up!"
"Never mind me!" called the young man as they came near. "See if you can't save my sister. She doesn't know how to swim."
"All right," called Rand, "we'll find her."
"Where has she gone?" asked Donald.
"I don't see anything of her," said Rand, who was standing in the bow of the boat intently watching for any sign of the girl. "Yes, there she is." A pale face had appeared for a moment on the surface. "Straight ahead, boys!"
As the boat came to the spot where he had seen her Rand made a long dive overboard, coming up a moment later with the inanimate body of the girl. He was joined almost immediately by Donald, who had followed him overboard, and so aided him in supporting her until Pepper and Jack had reached them with the boat.
It required no little effort on the part of the boys to get the helpless girl into the boat, but it was finally done, and they rowed back to the assistance of the others. The other girl was helped from the overturned canoe, to which she was clinging, into their boat which was now loaded to its full capacity.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
cheap lv handbags sale “Thank you
“Thank you.”
In the darkest part of the long passage outside I met Therese with her arms full of pillows and blankets.
Part 5 Chapter 5
Coming out of the bright light of the studio I didn’t make out Therese very distinctly. She, however, having groped in dark cupboards, must have had her pupils sufficiently dilated to have seen that I had my hat on my head. This has its importance because after what I had said to her upstairs it must have convinced her that I was going out on some midnight business. I passed her without a word and heard behind me the door of the studio close with an unexpected crash. It strikes me now that under the circumstances I might have without shame gone back to listen at the keyhole. But truth to say the association of events was not so clear in my mind as it may be to the reader of this story. Neither were the exact connections of persons present to my mind. And, besides, one doesn’t listen at a keyhole but in pursuance of some plan; unless one is afflicted by a vulgar and fatuous curiosity. But that vice is not in my character. As to plan, I had none. I moved along the passage between the dead wall and the black-and-white marble elevation of the staircase with hushed footsteps, as though there had been a mortally sick person somewhere in the house. And the only person that could have answered to that description was Senor Ortega. I moved on, stealthy, absorbed, undecided; asking myself earnestly: “What on earth am I going to do with him?” That exclusive preoccupation of my mind was as dangerous to Senor Ortega as typhoid fever would have been. It strikes me that this comparison is very exact. People recover from typhoid fever, but generally the chance is considered poor. This was precisely his case. His chance was poor; though I had no more animosity towards him than a virulent disease has against the victim it lays low. He really would have nothing to reproach me with; he had run up against me, unwittingly, as a man enters an infected place, and now he was very ill, very ill indeed. No, I had no plans against him. I had only the feeling that he was in mortal danger.
I believe that men of the most daring character (and I make no claim to it) often do shrink from the logical processes of thought. It is only the devil, they say, that loves logic. But I was not a devil. I was not even a victim of the devil. It was only that I had given up the direction of my intelligence before the problem; or rather that the problem had dispossessed my intelligence and reigned in its stead side by side with a superstitious awe. A dreadful order seemed to lurk in the darkest shadows of life. The madness of that Carlist with the soul of a Jacobin, the vile fears of Baron H., that excellent organizer of supplies, the contact of their two ferocious stupidities, and last, by a remote disaster at sea, my love brought into direct contact with the situation: all that was enough to make one shudder — not at the chance, but at the design.
For it was my love that was called upon to act here, and nothing else. And love which elevates us above all safeguards, above restraining principles, above all littlenesses of self-possession, yet keeps its feet always firmly on earth, remains marvellously practical in its suggestions.
In the darkest part of the long passage outside I met Therese with her arms full of pillows and blankets.
Part 5 Chapter 5
Coming out of the bright light of the studio I didn’t make out Therese very distinctly. She, however, having groped in dark cupboards, must have had her pupils sufficiently dilated to have seen that I had my hat on my head. This has its importance because after what I had said to her upstairs it must have convinced her that I was going out on some midnight business. I passed her without a word and heard behind me the door of the studio close with an unexpected crash. It strikes me now that under the circumstances I might have without shame gone back to listen at the keyhole. But truth to say the association of events was not so clear in my mind as it may be to the reader of this story. Neither were the exact connections of persons present to my mind. And, besides, one doesn’t listen at a keyhole but in pursuance of some plan; unless one is afflicted by a vulgar and fatuous curiosity. But that vice is not in my character. As to plan, I had none. I moved along the passage between the dead wall and the black-and-white marble elevation of the staircase with hushed footsteps, as though there had been a mortally sick person somewhere in the house. And the only person that could have answered to that description was Senor Ortega. I moved on, stealthy, absorbed, undecided; asking myself earnestly: “What on earth am I going to do with him?” That exclusive preoccupation of my mind was as dangerous to Senor Ortega as typhoid fever would have been. It strikes me that this comparison is very exact. People recover from typhoid fever, but generally the chance is considered poor. This was precisely his case. His chance was poor; though I had no more animosity towards him than a virulent disease has against the victim it lays low. He really would have nothing to reproach me with; he had run up against me, unwittingly, as a man enters an infected place, and now he was very ill, very ill indeed. No, I had no plans against him. I had only the feeling that he was in mortal danger.
I believe that men of the most daring character (and I make no claim to it) often do shrink from the logical processes of thought. It is only the devil, they say, that loves logic. But I was not a devil. I was not even a victim of the devil. It was only that I had given up the direction of my intelligence before the problem; or rather that the problem had dispossessed my intelligence and reigned in its stead side by side with a superstitious awe. A dreadful order seemed to lurk in the darkest shadows of life. The madness of that Carlist with the soul of a Jacobin, the vile fears of Baron H., that excellent organizer of supplies, the contact of their two ferocious stupidities, and last, by a remote disaster at sea, my love brought into direct contact with the situation: all that was enough to make one shudder — not at the chance, but at the design.
For it was my love that was called upon to act here, and nothing else. And love which elevates us above all safeguards, above restraining principles, above all littlenesses of self-possession, yet keeps its feet always firmly on earth, remains marvellously practical in its suggestions.
Discount Louis Vuitton dear Nell
"Come, dear Nell!" cried Harry.
"Harry, I am willing to follow you," replied the maiden. At nine o'clock the last train through the tunnel started to convey Nell and her companions to the surface of the earth. Twenty minutes later they alighted on the platform where the branch line to New Aberfoyle joins the railway from Dumbarton to Stirling.
The night was already dark. From the horizon to the zenith, light vapory clouds hurried through the upper air, driven by a refreshing northwesterly breeze. The day had been lovely; the night promised to be so likewise.
On reaching Stirling, Nell and her friends, quitting the train, left the station immediately. Just before them, between high trees, they could see a road which led to the banks of the river Forth.
The first physical impression on the girl was the purity of the air inhaled eagerly by her lungs.
"Breathe it freely, Nell," said James Starr; "it is fragrant with all the scents of the open country."
"What is all that smoke passing over our heads?" inquired Nell.
"Those are clouds," answered Harry, "blown along by the westerly wind."
"Ah!" said Nell, "how I should like to feel myself carried along in that silent whirl! And what are those shining sparks which glance here and there between rents in the clouds?"
"Those are the stars I have told you about, Nell. So many suns they are, so many centers of worlds like our own, most likely."
The constellations became more clearly visible as the wind cleared the clouds from the deep blue of the firmament. Nell gazed upon the myriad stars which sparkled overhead. "But how is it," she said at length, "that if these are suns, my eyes can endure their brightness?"
"My child," replied James Starr, "they are indeed suns, but suns at an enormous distance. The nearest of these millions of stars, whose rays can reach us, is Vega, that star in Lyra which you observe near the zenith, and that is fifty thousand millions of leagues distant. Its brightness, therefore, cannot affect your vision. But our own sun, which will rise to-morrow, is only distant thirty-eight millions of leagues, and no human eye can gaze fixedly upon that, for it is brighter than the blaze of any furnace. But come, Nell, come!"
They pursued their way, James Starr leading the maiden, Harry walking by her side, while Jack Ryan roamed about like a young dog, impatient of the slow pace of his masters. The road was lonely. Nell kept looking at the great trees, whose branches, waving in the wind, made them seem to her like giants gesticulating wildly. The sound of the breeze in the tree-tops, the deep silence during a lull, the distant line of the horizon, which could be discerned when the road passed over open levels--all these things filled her with new sensations, and left lasting impressions on her mind.
After some time she ceased to ask questions, and her companions respected her silence, not wishing to influence by any words of theirs the girl's highly sensitive imagination, but preferring to allow ideas to arise spontaneously in her soul.
At about half past eleven o'clock, they gained the banks of the river Forth. There a boat, chartered by James Starr, awaited them. In a few hours it would convey them all to Granton. Nell looked at the clear water which flowed up to her feet, as the waves broke gently on the beach, reflecting the starlight. "Is this a lake?" said she.
"Harry, I am willing to follow you," replied the maiden. At nine o'clock the last train through the tunnel started to convey Nell and her companions to the surface of the earth. Twenty minutes later they alighted on the platform where the branch line to New Aberfoyle joins the railway from Dumbarton to Stirling.
The night was already dark. From the horizon to the zenith, light vapory clouds hurried through the upper air, driven by a refreshing northwesterly breeze. The day had been lovely; the night promised to be so likewise.
On reaching Stirling, Nell and her friends, quitting the train, left the station immediately. Just before them, between high trees, they could see a road which led to the banks of the river Forth.
The first physical impression on the girl was the purity of the air inhaled eagerly by her lungs.
"Breathe it freely, Nell," said James Starr; "it is fragrant with all the scents of the open country."
"What is all that smoke passing over our heads?" inquired Nell.
"Those are clouds," answered Harry, "blown along by the westerly wind."
"Ah!" said Nell, "how I should like to feel myself carried along in that silent whirl! And what are those shining sparks which glance here and there between rents in the clouds?"
"Those are the stars I have told you about, Nell. So many suns they are, so many centers of worlds like our own, most likely."
The constellations became more clearly visible as the wind cleared the clouds from the deep blue of the firmament. Nell gazed upon the myriad stars which sparkled overhead. "But how is it," she said at length, "that if these are suns, my eyes can endure their brightness?"
"My child," replied James Starr, "they are indeed suns, but suns at an enormous distance. The nearest of these millions of stars, whose rays can reach us, is Vega, that star in Lyra which you observe near the zenith, and that is fifty thousand millions of leagues distant. Its brightness, therefore, cannot affect your vision. But our own sun, which will rise to-morrow, is only distant thirty-eight millions of leagues, and no human eye can gaze fixedly upon that, for it is brighter than the blaze of any furnace. But come, Nell, come!"
They pursued their way, James Starr leading the maiden, Harry walking by her side, while Jack Ryan roamed about like a young dog, impatient of the slow pace of his masters. The road was lonely. Nell kept looking at the great trees, whose branches, waving in the wind, made them seem to her like giants gesticulating wildly. The sound of the breeze in the tree-tops, the deep silence during a lull, the distant line of the horizon, which could be discerned when the road passed over open levels--all these things filled her with new sensations, and left lasting impressions on her mind.
After some time she ceased to ask questions, and her companions respected her silence, not wishing to influence by any words of theirs the girl's highly sensitive imagination, but preferring to allow ideas to arise spontaneously in her soul.
At about half past eleven o'clock, they gained the banks of the river Forth. There a boat, chartered by James Starr, awaited them. In a few hours it would convey them all to Granton. Nell looked at the clear water which flowed up to her feet, as the waves broke gently on the beach, reflecting the starlight. "Is this a lake?" said she.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
replica rolex watches Radiohead's In Rainbows Reviewed_26871
Radiohead's In Rainbows was released on October 10, 2007 in a move that shocked the music world. Only 10 days earlier the band made the surprise announcement they would be releasing their new album (that most didn't expect out until 2008) and that it would be available in download only format at first and most surprisingly of all, they were going to let people decide for themselves how much to pay for it.
While I applaud Radiohead for their creativity in album releases, it's their creativity in music that really interests me. The "pay what you want" download didn't effect me because I paid $81 for the limited edition "deluxe" version (which included the download of course, along with a CD version, an LP version, and an additional CD with 8 extra tracks.)
Now that the hysteria over their supposed "record industry destroying" record release method has died down, it's high time to take another look at the music itself. It's the music that makes In Rainbows one of the classic albums of the the decade.
The album is, in my estimation, their most consistent yet. It flows like perhaps only Kid A flows. It sounds as a whole piece, but that doesn't mean that it's "samey" or boring. It's not. Each song is instantaneously memorable on it's own merits but somehow still connected to those around it.
The album starts off with dirty distorted electro beats on "15 Steps" which probably had many people thinking Radiohead was going more in the Kid A/Thom Yorke solo album (The Eraser) sort of direction. But then about 40 seconds in enters the smooth clean guitar (no distortion) that would be heard throughout this album. In fact this is easily their most "guitar based" album since 1997's legendary OK Computer. While that could easily be seen as a retreat from experimentation, it's really anything but.
In Rainbows continues to push the "studio as an instrument" experimentation that Radiohead and their long time producer, Nigel Godrich, have been working on since 1995's The Bends. For me this is vital to a great Radiohead album. Yes their songs are great and their musicianship is incredible and yes Thom Yorke is the best rock singer int he world, but the "atmosphere" of the songs is just as big of a factor in what makes me love Radiohead as any of those other factors.
In Rainbows is filled to the brim with beautiful production ideas and surprising musical arrangements that take the songs from been merely great to being truly transcendent.
While I love the songs on the "b-sides" disc sent with the deluxe version of In Rainbows, I also very much agree with Radiohead's decision to release the official album as a 10 track album. I'm a big fan of a compact album that makes you want even more when you're done listening to it. And they've really set it up with the "b-sides" flowing perfectly out of the first 10 tracks so that you can make In Rainbows into an 18 track epic if you want to.
"Bodysnatchers" (the second track on In Rainbows) is Radiohead's best full out rocker since at least The Bends era (I'm thinking "Just" & "My Iron Lung") and maybe ever. Who else can make a guitar sound like that other than Jonny Greenwood? He's a true wizard. And I'm not just saying that because he appeared in a Harry Potter movie. Didn't know that? Look it up, it's true.
"Nude" may be the most beautiful song Radiohead's ever produced and that's saying quite a bit. It's just an absolutely perfect song with a perfect arrangement and perfect vocals. It's a good thing too because they've been trying to record this song for 10 years. They wanted to get it right, and they have.
"All I Need" with it's awesome bass line and it's groovy beat may just be my favorite song on the album. I love the melody and the vocals and the sound. Absolutely everything about this song is perfect. The lyrics kill me. "I'm an animal trapped in your hot car, I am all of the days you choose to ignore" and "I am a moth that just wants to share your light, I'm just an insect trying to get out of the night" are brilliant. But the line that really gives me shivers is this "I only stay with you because there are no others." What's so breathtaking about that line is that he sings it right before going into the "you're all I need" chorus.
I've read that Yorke says the song is about a co-dependency relationship and that line really drives that idea home in an intense way.
"Faust Arp" is probably the one song on the album that I didn't really love right away but it is an interesting sound for Radiohead. It's a nice middle point in the album that sets up for the final four songs. I think it's a good way to let the album sort of breathe after the intensity of "All I Need."
"Reckoner" is another sort of new sound for Radiohead. The percussion sounds quite unlike anything I've heard from them before. The vocals are beautiful. I still remember being a bit shocked when I first heard this song on the album Radiohead had been playing a song called "Reckoner" live that was a heavy rocker that sounds nothing like this.
This is an album meant to be played from beginning to end. It's a work of art in a time of trivial throw away pop music. I gave it 10/10 stars when I first heard it almost a year ago, and today I give it the same score. I'd give it an even higher score but, well OK. Who's stopping me? It's gets an 11/10!
While I applaud Radiohead for their creativity in album releases, it's their creativity in music that really interests me. The "pay what you want" download didn't effect me because I paid $81 for the limited edition "deluxe" version (which included the download of course, along with a CD version, an LP version, and an additional CD with 8 extra tracks.)
Now that the hysteria over their supposed "record industry destroying" record release method has died down, it's high time to take another look at the music itself. It's the music that makes In Rainbows one of the classic albums of the the decade.
The album is, in my estimation, their most consistent yet. It flows like perhaps only Kid A flows. It sounds as a whole piece, but that doesn't mean that it's "samey" or boring. It's not. Each song is instantaneously memorable on it's own merits but somehow still connected to those around it.
The album starts off with dirty distorted electro beats on "15 Steps" which probably had many people thinking Radiohead was going more in the Kid A/Thom Yorke solo album (The Eraser) sort of direction. But then about 40 seconds in enters the smooth clean guitar (no distortion) that would be heard throughout this album. In fact this is easily their most "guitar based" album since 1997's legendary OK Computer. While that could easily be seen as a retreat from experimentation, it's really anything but.
In Rainbows continues to push the "studio as an instrument" experimentation that Radiohead and their long time producer, Nigel Godrich, have been working on since 1995's The Bends. For me this is vital to a great Radiohead album. Yes their songs are great and their musicianship is incredible and yes Thom Yorke is the best rock singer int he world, but the "atmosphere" of the songs is just as big of a factor in what makes me love Radiohead as any of those other factors.
In Rainbows is filled to the brim with beautiful production ideas and surprising musical arrangements that take the songs from been merely great to being truly transcendent.
While I love the songs on the "b-sides" disc sent with the deluxe version of In Rainbows, I also very much agree with Radiohead's decision to release the official album as a 10 track album. I'm a big fan of a compact album that makes you want even more when you're done listening to it. And they've really set it up with the "b-sides" flowing perfectly out of the first 10 tracks so that you can make In Rainbows into an 18 track epic if you want to.
"Bodysnatchers" (the second track on In Rainbows) is Radiohead's best full out rocker since at least The Bends era (I'm thinking "Just" & "My Iron Lung") and maybe ever. Who else can make a guitar sound like that other than Jonny Greenwood? He's a true wizard. And I'm not just saying that because he appeared in a Harry Potter movie. Didn't know that? Look it up, it's true.
"Nude" may be the most beautiful song Radiohead's ever produced and that's saying quite a bit. It's just an absolutely perfect song with a perfect arrangement and perfect vocals. It's a good thing too because they've been trying to record this song for 10 years. They wanted to get it right, and they have.
"All I Need" with it's awesome bass line and it's groovy beat may just be my favorite song on the album. I love the melody and the vocals and the sound. Absolutely everything about this song is perfect. The lyrics kill me. "I'm an animal trapped in your hot car, I am all of the days you choose to ignore" and "I am a moth that just wants to share your light, I'm just an insect trying to get out of the night" are brilliant. But the line that really gives me shivers is this "I only stay with you because there are no others." What's so breathtaking about that line is that he sings it right before going into the "you're all I need" chorus.
I've read that Yorke says the song is about a co-dependency relationship and that line really drives that idea home in an intense way.
"Faust Arp" is probably the one song on the album that I didn't really love right away but it is an interesting sound for Radiohead. It's a nice middle point in the album that sets up for the final four songs. I think it's a good way to let the album sort of breathe after the intensity of "All I Need."
"Reckoner" is another sort of new sound for Radiohead. The percussion sounds quite unlike anything I've heard from them before. The vocals are beautiful. I still remember being a bit shocked when I first heard this song on the album Radiohead had been playing a song called "Reckoner" live that was a heavy rocker that sounds nothing like this.
This is an album meant to be played from beginning to end. It's a work of art in a time of trivial throw away pop music. I gave it 10/10 stars when I first heard it almost a year ago, and today I give it the same score. I'd give it an even higher score but, well OK. Who's stopping me? It's gets an 11/10!
lv wallets I was glad when the mirage began to break up
I was glad when the mirage began to break up, though in the process the various nightmare turrets and cones assumed distorted, temporary forms of even vaster hideousness. As the whole illusion dissolved to churning opalescence we began to look earthward again, and saw that our journey’s end was not far off. The unknown mountains ahead rose dizzily up like a fearsome rampart of giants, their curious regularities showing with startling clearness even without a field glass. We were over the lowest foothills now, and could see amidst the snow, ice, and bare patches of their main plateau a couple of darkish spots which we took to be Lake’s camp and boring. The higher foothills shot up between five and six miles away, forming a range almost distinct from the terrifying line of more than Himalayan peaks beyond them. At length Ropes — the student who had relieved McTighe at the controls — began to head downward toward the left-hand dark spot whose size marked it as the camp. As he did so, McTighe sent out the last uncensored wireless message the world was to receive from our expedition.
Everyone, of course, has read the brief and unsatisfying bulletins of the rest of our antarctic sojourn. Some hours after our landing we sent a guarded report of the tragedy we found, and reluctantly announced the wiping out of the whole Lake party by the frightful wind of the preceding day, or of the night before that. Eleven known dead, young Gedney missing. People pardoned our hazy lack of details through realization of the shock the sad event must have caused us, and believed us when we explained that the mangling action of the wind had rendered all eleven bodies unsuitable for transportation outside. Indeed, I flatter myself that even in the midst of our distress, utter bewilderment, and soul-clutching horror, we scarcely went beyond the truth in any specific instance. The tremendous significance lies in what we dared not tell; what I would not tell now but for the need of warning others off from nameless terrors.
It is a fact that the wind had brought dreadful havoc. Whether all could have lived through it, even without the other thing, is gravely open to doubt. The storm, with its fury of madly driven ice particles, must have been beyond anything our expedition had encountered before. One aeroplane shelter-wall, it seems, had been left in a far too flimsy and inadequate state — was nearly pulverized — and the derrick at the distant boring was entirely shaken to pieces. The exposed metal of the grounded planes and drilling machinery was bruised into a high polish, and two of the small tents were flattened despite their snow banking. Wooden surfaces left out in the blaster were pitted and denuded of paint, and all signs of tracks in the snow were completely obliterated. It is also true that we found none of the Archaean biological objects in a condition to take outside as a whole. We did gather some minerals from a vast, tumbled pile, including several of the greenish soapstone fragments whose odd five-pointed rounding and faint patterns of grouped dots caused so many doubtful comparisons; and some fossil bones, among which were the most typical of the curiously injured specimens.
Everyone, of course, has read the brief and unsatisfying bulletins of the rest of our antarctic sojourn. Some hours after our landing we sent a guarded report of the tragedy we found, and reluctantly announced the wiping out of the whole Lake party by the frightful wind of the preceding day, or of the night before that. Eleven known dead, young Gedney missing. People pardoned our hazy lack of details through realization of the shock the sad event must have caused us, and believed us when we explained that the mangling action of the wind had rendered all eleven bodies unsuitable for transportation outside. Indeed, I flatter myself that even in the midst of our distress, utter bewilderment, and soul-clutching horror, we scarcely went beyond the truth in any specific instance. The tremendous significance lies in what we dared not tell; what I would not tell now but for the need of warning others off from nameless terrors.
It is a fact that the wind had brought dreadful havoc. Whether all could have lived through it, even without the other thing, is gravely open to doubt. The storm, with its fury of madly driven ice particles, must have been beyond anything our expedition had encountered before. One aeroplane shelter-wall, it seems, had been left in a far too flimsy and inadequate state — was nearly pulverized — and the derrick at the distant boring was entirely shaken to pieces. The exposed metal of the grounded planes and drilling machinery was bruised into a high polish, and two of the small tents were flattened despite their snow banking. Wooden surfaces left out in the blaster were pitted and denuded of paint, and all signs of tracks in the snow were completely obliterated. It is also true that we found none of the Archaean biological objects in a condition to take outside as a whole. We did gather some minerals from a vast, tumbled pile, including several of the greenish soapstone fragments whose odd five-pointed rounding and faint patterns of grouped dots caused so many doubtful comparisons; and some fossil bones, among which were the most typical of the curiously injured specimens.
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