The problem with German bars is that you end up drinking these giant stiens of beer. Sure, that sounds great...until you think about the physical realities of managing a one liter glass mug filled to the top with the finest Bavarian barley and hops concoction. It's not that hard for the first one, but by number three balance and coordination start going out the window...and the next thing you know you are covered in beer at your buddy's birthday party. And not in the fun way. And you almost certainly spilled beer all over some chicks purse...probably some chick you don't even know.
So for the rest of the night you're stumbling around, reeking of german brew and with some lady giving you the stink eye, cause all of her tampons and lipsticks now smell like Korstizer Schwarz Bier and her iPhone is sticky.
But on the upside, they do have those big soft pretzels to comfort you in your hour of darkness.
And speaking of hours of darkness, we got some more from Mr. Yorke. His solo record was something of a puzzler. I think many, and by many, I mean me, expected this to be a much more grandiose record. For all his griping and belly aching about how timid and confined modern "rock" music is, his solo effort was surprisingly modest and restrained. This took some adjustment. In hindsite though, I think the album is better than I initially thought. And this is one of the better songs.
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