Yorke has turned on the afterburners for this one.
His voice is at its most compelling: smooth and beautiful, but full
of pain and dread, almost conversational in the surety of its moves.
Every line serves at least two rhetorical roles: “I want you
to know” is both sincere and witheringly sarcastic; “look
me in the eye” both pleading and sadistically forceful. When
he gets to the words “knives out,” it’s like Bruce
Lee at the end of Game of Death: there are so many different
possibilities lurking in all these images before us that we don’t
know where to strike, or from which direction we’ll be struck.
We stand held by the pure passion in Yorke’s delivery and disgusted
by the nastiness of what he’s saying:
If you'd been a dog
They would have drowned you at birth
Look into my eyes
It's the only way you'll know I'm telling the truth |
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