The Bends is where Radiohead truly found their voice. While Pablo Honey hinted at their potential, this follow-up throws off the post-grunge tag entirely and embraces something far more expansive and emotionally resonant. The album walks a perfect line between raw guitar-driven power and delicate introspection, with Thom Yorke’s voice shifting effortlessly between wounded vulnerability and explosive frustration. It’s packed with unforgettable moments—Fake Plastic Trees aches with fragile beauty, Street Spirit (Fade Out) closes the album with haunting grace, and High and Dry delivers one of the most perfect sad-pop melodies of the '90s. But it’s not all melancholy—Just is pure chaos bottled up in a four-minute track, with spiraling guitars and a frantic energy that still sounds electrifying. Bones, too, is a hidden gem: gritty, compact, and full of grit and anxiety, offering a jolt of urgency in the album’s midsection. Even the deeper cuts (Bullet Proof..., Black Star) are layered and thoughtful, never filler. There's a confidence running through every track that shows just how quickly the band was evolving, pushing themselves into deeper emotional and musical territory. The production is big and bold without being overbearing, and the songs are sequenced so well that the album flows effortlessly from start to finish. The Bends feels like the moment Radiohead fully stepped into their greatness, laying the groundwork for everything to come. It’s one of those rare albums where every track holds weight, and if 5 stars is the limit, this one’s pressing hard against it.