Radiohead
Harry Patch (In Memory of)

THE REVIEW

Undeniable talent and boundless communicative ability as an interpreter.

Thom Yorke is undoubtedly capable of evoking forgotten sensations and distant memories.

What for many today is just an annoying moan, and what for just as many represents only a snobbish and overhyped band, over the years of their continuous evolutions, they've always managed to craft some invaluable gem, only to release it in the least flamboyant way possible. Possibly within some dark corner of their repertoire. 

Just think of "How I Made My Millions", hidden in the single of "No Surprises", where Yorke torments himself over those few piano chimes that accompany him in an alienated home atmosphere, amid the general indifference including that of his partner - who, noisily busy with household chores, contributes to the sense of desolation that seeps through a sparse execution and the few words whispered in the genius of a moment that for many would be just an ordinary, useless empty moment of the day.

Burning melancholy dipped in a contrasting scenario of serene verdant expanses stirred by a mild spring breeze. Perhaps in the late afternoon, when the sun begins to mingle with the horizon, but is still too high to stop warming. The peculiar traits that characterize the semblance of that impetuous simplicity are often highlighted in that magical breeze of the unrepeatable.

"Harry Patch (In Memory of)" is destined to become yet another monumental melodic-spiritual journey between the secondary lines.
Jonny Greenwood composes the music: an orchestral arrangement for strings only. Few introductory notes, for a motif that, like a burden, accompanies the listener roughly throughout the course, the duration of the piece. Yorke forgets "In Rainbows", resurrects his interpretative mysticism and does the rest. Once again a timeless melody. As it was, not straying too far from what represents the essential discography of Radiohead, for the majestic grandeur of "Let Down".

Harry Patch, who passed away on July 25 of last year, was the longest-lived survivor of the First World War. The last soldier, the last man on earth to have held those memories marked by active participation in the trenches of the Western Front. The last soldier to become a symbol of peace, in 1998, harshly criticizing wars he defined as "legalized mass murders".

He died over a century old - at one hundred eleven (111) years, even holding the record of being the third oldest man in the world -, a couple of months before the publication of the composition inspired by and dedicated to him.
The swift composition of this piece is the perfect testimony to the value of simplicity. The same simplicity that turned a combatant into a great man, and a song into a small work of art, this one.

The single (released on August 5, 2009), alas, released exclusively in digital format, is downloadable here for the price of a pound. The proceeds will be donated to the Royal British Legion, which is involved in financing and providing socio-emotional support to millions of civilian disabled, and/or those continuing to serve the UK's armed forces (British Armed Forces).

And that song, instead, that song that sounds old, is nothing but yet another melody never heard and known forever. Yet another monument carved into the night of the times. Yet another interpretation capable of speaking the language of consciences, to reach the unconscious and stir it.

Setting spirits free.