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If to wake with a start means to rise and shine alert, aware and prepared, as if your morning had already started without you, then today I woke with a finish. The combination of allergies and Chicago’s first truly autumnal weather got the best of me this morning. I must have hit the snooze button at least seven times, and when I finally roused myself enough to open my eyes, I was greeted by the feeling of death by the common cold — something only a steaming hot shower could cure, or at least stifle.

I don’t think I was fully awake until I realized that I was almost completely dressed, and had been standing in front of a pile of shoes trying to decide which ones to wear for about five minutes. It was only then, about 25 minutes after I had abandoned the comfort of my bed for much less forgiving surroundings, that I remembered that I’d been looking forward to this day for the better part of October, ever since those know-it-alls at Pitchfork alerted me to the impending release of Radiohead’s new record. The record was released the previous morning, and I had downloaded it as soon as I arrived at work and listened to it several times during the day, but it wasn’t until this morning that I had the chance to give In Rainbows its due attention by listening to it with headphones, via iPod (or iPhone, as it were), on the bus ride to work.

I know everyone’s music listening habits differ, but for me, nothing allows one the solitude and intense concentration necessary to really take in a new record like the eastbound 66 Chicago Avenue bus in the early morning hours. I get absolutely lost in that bus when the right sounds are in my ears. Sometimes I even miss my stop. Today was no different in practice, but what resulted was something only Radiohead is capable of producing.

There’s just something about Chicago in the Fall. I’ve been waiting patiently for the past three or four weeks for Summer to kindly show itself the door and make room for the shortest but perhaps most highly revered season, at least in the minds of coat and hat enthusiasts like myself. Yesterday we got our first taste, but today I felt that Fall briskness in all its glory for the first time since good old 2006 the moment I stepped out of my apartment, giving pause to my efforts to untangle my headphones, an oh so important task at the time.

As I breathed in deeply, then coughed violently at the tail end of my exhale, I was no longer concerned with my impending cold, or the back to back, day spanning meetings that would greet me when I stepped into the office. I returned instead to the chore of headphone liberation, and was pleased to identify almost immediately the loophole that would free the wires from tangle with minimal finger work, a feat I’m certain would have caused infuriating duress on any other day.

Approaching the Milwaukee/Chicago/Ogden bus stop, I browsed as I walked: iPod, Artists, Radiohead, In Rainbows. I touched the words “15 Step” as I rounded the corner to find a half-empty bus stopped at a red light, as if politely waiting to greet my entrance through its double doors with the arrhythmic accompaniment of a song that I’d eventually have to compare to “2+2=5,” “Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box,” “Everything in its Right Place,” “Airbag,” “Planet Telex,” and even “You” (though “Creep” might have been a more appropriate choice).

A little more than 24 hours in, I’m not quite ready to make those comparisons yet, but after this morning’s bus ride I can say this with confidence: this record is very near perfect, at least held up to standards set by previous Radiohead material. I’m sure this isn’t the first review of what might be this year’s most highly anticipated release, and it certainly won’t be the last (even on this blog), so instead of analyzing each track, or even the work as a whole, I’d like to talk briefly about nostalgia, and how important it is to the listening experience.

You know how you sometimes hear a song that immediately brings you back to a very specific time in your life and you get that crazy feeling that’s some sort of hybrid of intangible familiarity, deja vu and out of body time travel? Like how any song from Perfect From Now On inevitably takes me back to the middle years of college, and Portishead always makes me think of snow (among other things). Well that’s what happened this morning. That feeling of listening to a new Radiohead record for the first time during the autumn months hit me like a ton of bricks, and as stupid as it sounds, I’m still not really over it even though it happened nearly eight hours ago. Sure, I had heard all the songs before from the previous work day, but as I’m sure a good number of you can attest, while one can certainly listen to music at one’s desk, one can never really hear it, especially if it’s brand new to the ear.

I remember breaking concentration from work activities when I recognized “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” from the leak a few weeks ago and was pleasantly surprised by the final arrangement, and when the ending of “All I Need” exploded from my shitty Logitech desk speakers and reminded me of Sigur Ros, and when I heard the opening lyrics to “House of Cards” (I don’t want to be your friend / I just want to be your lover) and thought “those are kind of strange words to hear coming out of Thom Yorke’s mouth,” but reserved judgment as my attention swayed from my ears back to my eyes and the PowerPoint presentation in front of me. I remember those tiny little standout moments and more, all alluding to what I would eventually realize the following morning, this morning, on the way to work on the Chicago Avenue bus, as memories from years ago drifted in and out of my consciousness in perfect synchronization with the beat of each passing song, reminding me that listening to a shiny new Radiohead record is much more than just listening to music. What I would realize, what I realized this morning, is that there is so much to hear on this record that I should have waited until at least Halloween, nay, Thanksgiving, to write this review so I could hear every single resonance and heavily reverberated vocal and every single multi-second interval of silence between tracks, and experience every single instance where you can’t tell whether it’s Thom making that sound with his voice or someone’s hands making it by pressing a key or a button or a string or something else. I should have waited until I had the lyrics memorized and knew the names of all the songs. I should have waited until I could name that tune in one note, like I can with every other Radiohead recording. I should have waited until my favorite songs emerged from what currently exists in my brain, which is one long perfect song that gets shorter and shorter with every listen. I should have waited until the official album art was available so I could include it in this post instead of a dumb picture of my iPhone. I should have waited to see how much the average person actually paid for this record. I should have waited until I could give it one more serious listen.

I should have waited but I couldn’t, and I can hardly wait for my walk home, when I’ll get to do it all over again.

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