Karma Policeman
When Brian Eno described a record as "usually the result of a small tightly knit team working in very close contact and with a continuity of attention" he was alluding to the method behind the making of U2's 'Achtung Baby'. Recorded in a Berlin ballroom, U2's seventh studio LP, somewhat insidiously, defined pop-rock for the 90's. Six years later Radiohead's 'OK Computer' looms over the millennium, as yet the sole harbinger of what their genre of music could bring in the 21st century. Whereas U2's coup de grâce deigned to acknowledge two producers (Eno and Daniel Lanois), Radiohead shared the production credits for 'OK Computer' with one individual: Nigel Godrich.

"I hate studios myself- the idea of going somewhere where you know 200 million people have done the same thing - it's like using a public toilet. You don't feel like it's your space. You deliver in an office- which is basically what a studio is" he begins. "Radiohead have always responded badly to studios. You've only got to have one bad experience in that kind of environment and it'll stay with you."

Such an ingrained phobia of the desk-window-booth set-up is clearly part and parcel of the Radiohead psyche. For this reason, once the band had received a near 'carte-blanche' from the record company, Thom and the boys chose to record in the grounds of Jane Seymour's mansion with only a cook, guitar tech and Nigel for company. 'Pablo Honey' had been coaxed out of the band by Paul 'Q' Kolderie and Sean Slade whom Nigel diplomatically describes as "exceptionally talented people". Doubtless, as with most debuts, the LP would only take a successful direction with some experience at the helm. "If you've never done it before you're completely in somebody else's hands" Nigel elaborates. "They'd been signed very quickly and put in a studio very quickly. The situation required somebody to take the situation in hand or the record wouldn't have been made. As a result, they felt, quite justifiably, that they hadn't had as much of a input as they'd have liked. They hadn't made a record they felt was completely theirs- even the artwork was done by somebody else."

With commercial success comes creative freedom and, once the Leckie produced 'The Bends' had established the band on international terms, Radiohead sought a recording environment that would foster creativity, as opposed to harness it. Their decision to work with Godrich alone came from their enjoyment at working without the domination of a producer on the b-sides of 'The Bends'. John Leckie had gone to a wedding for a weekend and left the band and Nigel in a rare but ideal 'while the cat's away' situation. "They were under a lot of pressure- they'd sold a lot of records on the back of "Creep". Everybody had an idea of what they wanted them to do next which, of course, wasn't necessarily what they wanted. It was nice for them to feel they had a bit more control and they liked what I was doing." Enough, in fact, to opt for recording their Bosnian War Child contribution in much the same manner at Marcus studios in Fulham.

Recording proper began in the band's rehearsal space: an old apple store on an Oxford fruit farm. Work on the LP progressed at an alarming rate, "The Tourist", "Electioneering", "Subterranean Homesick Alien" and "No Surprises" all being completed in the month passed there. "The first time we ever pressed record- after getting all the sounds right- was for the actual take on the record of "No Surprises". It was all fairly experimental; we didn't know what we were doing in terms of the set up. The fact we managed to get so much work done was pretty good. The record wasn't demoed. Demoes are bad ideas because there's a tendency for you spew out all your spontaneity on that first recording. The whole idea of the mobile set up was to catch that. They could rehearse and develop the songs .The first sessions were just me taping them in rehearsals."

At this point the band decided to put their collective muse out to pasture for a month. The band's manager scoured the south of France for a chateaux suitable to house the band's expansive sound, Thom and Colin went prying round Jane Seymour's mansion. The Cure had hired the house previously, and be it for the aristocratic serenity of the place, or the bathroom pictures of its owner in her undies, the setting clearly appealed. The hire company was approached and soon the lorries bearing the mobile studio trundled up the drive.

"It was a great place just to hang out- compared to the sterile environment of a studio. At first I think they felt a little freaked out by the whole thing. When they arrived Phil and Ed and Jonny had never seen the house, which, on reflection, is a good way of doing it. Our first few days were fantastic and I suppose that was a response to turning up to this place which we had all to ourselves. We were completely isolated."

Such isolation permeates the bleak, prophetic landscape of 'OK Computer', a frame of mind presumably enhanced by the chilling echo of a country house. "It's difficult to work out what contributes to these feelings" continues Nigel. "At the end of the day it has got a particular feel to it. As you're in that state of mind you don't see that happening, which is great because it almost takes you over. You don't dictate what happens, it just happens and you don't know about it".

Not that Radiohead are accustomed to leaving the texture of their records to rest on chance or circumstance. Part of Nigel's task was to act as the partial outsider to the performing group. From this position he could maintain an objectivity that threatened to be lost to five childhood friends who were reaching the liberated pinnacle of their recording career.

"They need to have another person outside their unit, especially when they're all playing together, to say when the take goes well. I did a lot of editing of the tapes- love doing it. I take up slack when people aren't taking responsibility- the term producing a record means taking responsibility for the record. As much as we all knew how to produce it I'm the one who knows how to make records so... (he shrugs with only a touch of modesty). I'm not putting them down at all, they're all really creative people, but it's my job to ensure that they get the ideas across. There's a bit of personnel management involved and a lot of intense communication. There was no more friction than any other band I've worked with. You could say you're a record producer- what does that mean? Do you just stand there and say 'nice one mate' and buy the coke- not that anyone in Radiohead does coke" he suddenly interjects, "and that is quite true".

Understandably, Nigel is verging on paranoid about saying anything that may feed the press' desire to unfavourably brand Thom Yorke. And why not; as he says, the band have been very good to him. "Thom has got this reputation that he's a real difficult customer and it's really unfair. The real weight of the responsibility for the music goes on his shoulders. He has an awful lot to prove and an awful lot to answer to. He's the one who writes the songs. He's the energy that everyone feeds off. He's such an amazingly prolific creative person that everyone looks to him for energy. The problem he has is that he's rejected the conventional media, he's been offish to too many people too many times in the past. You have to understand how he feels. He gets letters of empathy from people on death row. I know what journalists can be like- you fuckers. Basically I think he put a few people's noses out very early on. He just doesn't want to talk to them. He's the loveliest guy on the fucking planet. They're so tight as a group of people- I've never met a group like that before."

Nigel is 26 now. In the last six years he has come from making tea in a financially crippled studio, to working as house engineer with John Leckie on the likes of Ride and Denim and now has a name made for himself as the sixth member of the studio Radiohead. Hence the PR job. The world and his wife approached Radiohead hoping to work on this LP but they stuck by Nigel throughout, even into mixing.

Often Thom's blood and guts delivery would be caught by Nigel under false pretences. They'd all agree that Thom would go and sing a guide vocal. The pressure off, Yorke would let rip without any sense of finality nagging at him. The success of the sessions can, in part, be ascribed to the band simply blocking out everyday pressure, be it singing without the clear knowledge that the world will eventually be listening, or just getting away from daily relationships. "That's why we had to go out and camp. I think they wanted not to leave their immediate environments; their girlfriends or wives. That's why we went away; to live and breathe the thing a little. Also, to set up a space that you enjoy and feel comfortable in, before a project, is very conducive to being creative."

Thom has already started writing again (mostly on an acoustic guitar) and the band are keen to record again in December. "I think we'll find another nice house. Thom is a workaholic and we all miss recording. I'm very much a believer in every record having its own identity. It keeps everything fresh if you approach every track with the same notion that there are no rules. And then apply new methods to this premise."

Despite his faithful involvement, Nigel was sceptical about how the record would be received commercially. "I'm bored with it now but I've finally convinced myself that it's a good record. Thom might not say anything optimistic but it makes me happy. He's an emotional channel for other people's negativity. He can make you feel good about feeling negative." He adds, with increasing scepticism; "the media is very fickle. They wanted to like it. I can't take it as an objective review". Nigel is clearly not taken in. Such a level-headed attitude may suggest a degree of self-assured indifference, or perhaps it's just the talk of a relatively young producer convinced his best work is ahead of him yet.

And why not...

Nick Paton Walsh