In 1993, Britpop had just begun to coalesce in the UK, growing out of the early '90s "Madchester" and "baggy" scenes, both of which placed a strong emphasis on dance grooves. Britpop seized upon this revival of catchy British guitar pop and replaced the hip-shaking beats with an injection of rock 'n' roll swagger. At this point, however, future Britpop stars Blur were transitioning their sound with Modern Life Is Rubbish and Oasis were working the small club circuit. It was Suede, with their terrific self-titled debut, who were kick-starting the Britpop era, but that band would remain fairly obscure in America. Meanwhile, Radiohead released their 1993 debut album, Pablo Honey. Not viewed as part of an emerging scene, they were just another alternative rock band with one great song: "Creep." With its tempestuous dynamics and fashionable lyrical theme of self-loathing, the single was a UK Top 10 hit and reached #2 on Billboard's Modern Rock Tracks chart, which meant, back then, that everyone saw the video on MTV. "Creep" fueled enough album sales to land Pablo Honey in the Top 40, but the rest of the record tended to support the general consensus that these Radiohead guys were one hit wonders.

In the United States, this was initially true. "Creep" was the only Pablo Honey single that charted, but the album offers a few other gems. "How Do You?" surfs along on big, fun riffs, "Stop Whispering" possesses the wide-open arena vibe of U2, "Anyone Can Play Guitar" is dumb but lovable, and the acoustic guitar chord progression of "Thinking About You" brims with a suspended push-and-pull between melancholy and hope. While many listeners probably didn't plow through the mediocre cluster of tracks at the beginning of side two, the album closes with two strong and moody numbers, the shoegazing "Lurgee" and the surprisingly evocative "Blowout," a cut whose atmospheric explorations would be put to greater use on the next two albums. The reissue of Pablo Honey adds a bonus disc of b-sides, live tracks, and one-off singles. These are actually generally about as good as the album itself, coughing up some buried treasures like the seething "Creep" b-side "Inside My Head," the Smiths-y "Faithless, the Wonderboy," and "Pop Is Dead," a punchy and perfect Britpop single.

The following year, 1994, is when the genre really took a toehold in the public consciousness. Oasis released their star-making UK #1 debut, Definitely Maybe, Blur hit the big-time with their chart-toping Britpop classic Parklife, and Pulp's His 'n' Hers was a UK Top 10 album. Though not heralded as a big year for Radiohead, they quietly released the My Iron Lung EP, marking their first rung of artistic advancement. The tense and blistered title track, which would reappear on the band's next LP, is as good as anything on Pablo Honey, aside from "Creep." "The Trickster," with its jagged guitar stabs, is among Radiohead's better songs of the era. The rest of the EP shifts from the sober atmospheres of "Punchdrunk Lovesick Singalong" and "Lozenge of Love" to the big, hooky, grinding chorus of "Lewis (Mistreated)" and the scouring instrumental, "Permanent Daylight." By the following year, they would pull all of these isolated elements together.

In 1995, Britpop exploded. If Oasis had seemed like big stars the year before, that was nothing compared to the Beatles-level sales and celebrity they achieved in the UK with (What's the Story) Morning Glory?. They also broke big in the US with "Wonderwall" and "Champagne Supernova," awakening American listeners to the Britpop phenomenon. Blur, meanwhile, barely broke into Billboard with The Great Escape hit #1 in England. While the genre's biggest stars wore their Rolling Stones and Kinks influences on their sleeves, Pulp delivered Different Class, an album of arch-pop delectations and synth-and-guitar anthems for the "Common People." It, too, reached #1 in England, but failed to chart in America.

In terms of sheer artistry and ambition, Radiohead came virtually out of nowhere to blow the competition away with their sophomore album, The Bends. Here, they managed to maintain the directness of Pablo Honey's appeal while building layers of complexity into their songwriting, musicianship, and arrangements. The title track is probably the album's least sophisticated number, but its anthemic chorus is just as catchy as anything off Morning Glory, while the verses burbles with as much pent-up tension as Different Class's finest. A much better single from The Bends is the lovely "Fake Plastic Trees," a melancholic, acoustic guitar heavy ballad that's buoyed by Jonny Greenwood and Ed O'Brien's wondrous guitar and synth tones. Of course, a great album can't survive on singles alone. "(Nice Dream)" is an instant class rock lullaby, as the waltz-time song floats by in a pretty morphine haze, only to crash and burn in a not-so-nice nightmare of guitar squalor. An excellent LP, The Bends isn't quite perfect. Before the gorgeous "Street Spirit (Fade Out)" closes the record, a pair of tracks – the trudging "Black Star" and the muddy "Sulk" -– showed that Radiohead still had room to grow. The reissue's bonus disc contains the My Iron Lung EP, plus a smattering of very fine b-sides, including the trip-hoppy "Talk Show Host," a long-time live staple and one of the band's best tracks ever.

By 1997, Britpop was running out of gas. It had burned too brightly, perhaps, during its phenomenal mid-'90s domination of the UK music scene. Time had come for a change, and Radiohead stepped forward with their third and greatest album, OK Computer. This same year, Oasis also issued their third LP, the disappointing Be Here Now. One could argue that a worldwide Top 5 and UK sextuple-Platinum album shouldn't be seen as "disappointing," but reviews were deservedly mixed, and the record sold fewer than half as many copies as its predecessor. Today, Be Here Now is all but forgotten by all but the most ardent of old fans. Blur faired better with their very solid self-titled album, a critical success, a UK #1, and a record that has stood well the test of time.

Still, these last shouts of Britpop have long died out, while Radiohead's OK Computer remains vital and matchless to this day. The album marked another great leap forward for the band, as the quintet perfected their sound. Their ambitions are perfectly encapsulated by the epic song "Paranoid Android," with its six-minute-plus running time and three distinct segments echoing the prog rock of the '70s while its seething frustrations and claustrophobic air made it clear that this was very much the sound of the late '90s. It is this overall feel that would place producer Nigel Godrich in hot demand for years to come, gaining him employment with everyone from indie rockers Pavement to one of the founding grandfathers of British pop, Paul McCartney. Not only did Radiohead sound powerful and possessed while making a proggy racket, but they could also infect your heart with a song like "Exit Music (For a Film)," one of the great sad ballads of all-time, or provide false cheer with the pretty and twinkling tones of killer tracks "Let Down" and "No Surprises," both of which intertwine critiques of the alienating nature of contemporary society with personal tales of struggle. The record perfectly encapsulated the anomie of modern life. Number one in England, OK Computer reached only #21 in America, but has since gone double Platinum. That kind of staying power is a testimony to the album's enduring influence.

Radiohead's OK Computer effectively obliterated Britpop. There was no use anymore in chugging out big, obvious chords and recycling George Harrison LP titles as lyrics. Radiohead also ushered in a new era of British rock bands. Doves, Travis, Keane, Snow Patrol, and, of course, Coldplay all adopted Radiohead's approach to music making, emphasizing ambience and effects-ridden soundscapes over rock 'n' roll riffing. Even the band's biggest predecessor, U2, fell in line behind Radiohead, abandoning the glib electro-pop that had mired their most recent efforts and rekindling their love for atmospheric guitar rock on their 2000 comeback record, All That You Can't Leave Behind.

Though they weren't the biggest of the Britpop bands at the time, Radiohead's legacy has only grown in strength, while their mid-90s peers' has yellowed with time. These reissues of the band's first three albums help secure that legacy. What these CDs lack is remastering. While Capitol never claims to have remastered this music, there is an implied promise that's broken. Doesn't one assume that, when buying newly issued deluxe versions of albums originally released a dozen or more years ago, the sound would be upgraded to contemporary standards? Pablo Honey suffers the most from this major oversight. Even if the folks at EMI had merely raised the volume a few decibels, they would have done fans a big favor. Still, the bonus discs and pretty packaging are reasons enough to buy these new versions of Radiohead's 1990s albums. Certain collectors may already have a lot of this material, but they'll be able to get rid of all those pesky CD singles. Meanwhile, casual appreciators will get a lot of rewarding material they'd possibly never heard before. If nothing else, these discs are a perfect reminder to revisit some of the best music of a bygone era.

A Select Radiohead Discography:
Pablo Honey (1993)
My Iron Lung EP (1994)
The Bends (1995)
OK Computer (1997)