A debut album tends to be a band figuring out what it is. This one is mostly remembered for the moment it accidentally figured out what it would have to escape. Pablo Honey arrived in 1993 with a young Oxford band still wearing its influences openly, guitar music of its moment, more promise than arrival. Then there is track two. The song that overshadowed everything around it was nearly treated as filler in its own sessions, came close to being mistaken for someone else’s, and went on to define the band against their will. Hear the rest of the record and you can feel a group that has not yet found the strange, careful music it would become. Hear that one track and you understand why they had to. Everything Radiohead did next was, in part, an answer to it.