Colin Greenwood shares intimate photos of life with Radiohead

How to Disappear begins with a gentle and reflective photograph. Captured in soft black-and-white, Thom Yorke is strumming his guitar in the garden of Radiohead’s studio in rural Oxfordshire. This represents the beginning of the cycle of writing and touring that bassist Colin Greenwood sought to mirror in his book – an intimate diary of one of Britain’s most-loved bands.

“It’s always the same thing every three to five years,” says Colin. “You go into a room, work on a bunch of songs, record them, go on tour, and then you go home and have a cup of tea. That’s been my life for the last 30 years.” Journeying from studio to stadium, How to Disappear captures both the mundane and the magic of touring – all shot in grainy film with a pocket-sized Yashica. The images have a raw and unfiltered quality. They capture fleeting moments in their entirety, with the imperfections and the occasional blur adding a textured depth that feels synonymous with Radiohead’s music.

How to Disappear is Colin’s first book of photography, but he has been a great fan of the medium for most of his life. He’s always admired photographers like Gaylord Oscar Herron, Tim Barber, and Collier Schorr, and has learned a great deal from his friend and mentor, Charlotte Cotton. Charlotte, a curator and writer, was in fact once a member of the band in its formative years. Through her introduction, Greenwood worked with an archivist to go through hundreds of negatives, and with the help of another old friend, editor Nicholas Pearson, he was able to publish this 136-page book, complete with a 10,000 word essay tracing some of his fondest memories with the band.

More than twenty years have passed since Colin first started taking these images; revisiting them now, he is reflective. “When you’re making things, you don’t spend much time looking back. There’s always this caution about dwelling on the past, because creativity is about moving forward,” he says. Now, reflecting on his image of Thom at the beginning of the book, new details reveal themselves. In the distance is a flightbox, foreshadowing a future tour. “It’s like a box of promises,” he says. “In many ways, a record is a ticket to an adventure.” And what an adventure it was, with stories to tell in every image – from an open suitcase spilling with crumpled clothes, to the spectacle of performing to a sold-out stadium of twinkling lights.