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Thom Yorke: My Autobiography. By Steven Wells
Steven Wells , May 20th, 2009 08:10

As Radiohead reissue their first three albums, Steven Wells presents a series of recollections of the band at different stages in their career

An extract from:

Thom Yorke: My Autobiography by Steven Wells


Yorkie — a Life in Pop

Philadelphia, February 2009

"What do you mean you're not paying for it?" I snarled. "There's a fucking fall-over funny anecdote or a red hot sex scene on every page. It's got to be he shit-hottest rock-biog ever."

"Well to be frank," said the stuck up little public school publisher twat, "it sounds like you've just made most of the stuff up."

I blinked hard. What a cunt.

"I thought was kind of the point. Don't start with the "reality" shit. I don't do reality. Same as I don't ghost-biog fucking nonentities. I deal with legends, and that's what Thom Yorke is — a fucking legend. Like Jesus. Or King Arthur. Or Gog And Magog. Reality doesn't come into it. Reality is the base metal anchor that keeps us mired in the fetid shite of the mediocre. I'm an empire, I make my own fucking reality. Wake up and smell the post-Rumsfeldian coffee, man. "

"And apparently Thom Yorke's lawyers are claiming that he's never heard of anyone called Steven Wells and never spoken to you, never mind given you enough material for 80,000 words …'

"Well what does that prove," I laughed. "You've read the manuscript. You can see what a fucking liar he is. All that "I shagged the Spice Girls in this order — Posh, Sporty, Ginger, Scary and last but definitely not least, Baby while a gagged and bound David Beckham looked on, grunting with frustration, helpless to intervene." Like you say, obviously a total lie. So how come you believe him when he says I just made it all up?"

"Did you actually interview Thom Yorke for the book?"


"So the bit where Thom Yorke runs up to Brett out of Suede, shouts: ‘Take that, you cunt!' and breaks both his legs with a sliding tackle on the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury, Thom Yorke actually told you that?"

"You know what? Fuck you. I don't need you. I don't want you publishing my book. You know who will publish it though, in installments, and for at least twice what you tight cunts are paying? The Quietus, that's who."

"The what?"

"The Quietus."

"Fuck off, Wells. Just give us our money back."

"No you fuck off. Plus I'm going to put you in it and make you look like a cunt. "

"On no, please don't do that," he sobbed, like a cunt.

_Click . . . _

Chapter Two

Pablo Honey (1993)

Totally true story, I swear to God. I'm in some godforsaken snake's foreskin of a strip-mall raped Mid Western town. I have racked my brains but I cannot for the life of remember what the fuck I'm doing here. Interviewing some band for the NME, probably

......The full version of this article is available in Point Close All Quotes: A Quietus Music Anthology. Buy it now in the Amazon Kindle store.

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