What’s fascinating about Radiohead is that each album serves as a snapshot of a transitory moment in its musical evolution. The thematic range of “The Bends” gave way to the expansive musical range of “OK Computer.” The electronic sound in “OK Computer” transformed into the technocratic despair of “Kid A” and “Amnesiac.” That technocratic despair translated into democratic despair for 2003’s “Hail to the Thief” and also signaled a return to more guitar-driven elements that carried on to 2007’s “In Rainbows.” Having spent the last decade vacillating between electronica and rock, the latest release, “The King of Limbs,” represents a marked departure into new musical territory resulting in some of the band’s most rewarding work yet.
The album’s first track, “Bloom,” begins quite literally with the vestiges of “In Rainbows” as the opening piano line references “Videotape” and “MK1” before shifting into a percussive, Fela Kuti-inspired piece complete with upright bass. In fact, percussive is the best descriptor for the record as drummer Phil Selway drives much of the album — leaving Thom Yorke’s vocal lines open to provide texture on top of the beats rather than anthemic hooks.
“Bloom” transitions seamlessly into “Morning Mr. Magpie,” an aggressively reworked version of B-side “Morning M’Lord.” The track “Little by Little” sounds like a Sergio Leone Western set to a dance beat while the aptly named “Feral” amounts to a snarling three-minute drum solo with synthesized vocal accompaniment.
The band’s single, “Lotus Flower,” is one of the most soulful and, as the video attests, danceable Radiohead tracks ever committed to record. Hand claps and subtle tamborine hits hold down the heights of Yorke’s falsetto as he delivers the lines “There’s an empty space inside my heart / Where the weeds take root / And now I’ll set you free / I’ll set you free.”
If the theme of “In Rainbows” was desperate attachment in the face of mortality, “The King of Limbs” is about letting go — and the subsequent rebirth that follows. “Lotus Flower,” the title referencing non-attachment, is followed shortly with “Give Up the Ghost.” The song has an ethereal backing vocal chant of “Don’t haunt me / Don’t harm me” accompanied by an acoustic guitar while building up to the line “I think I should give up the ghost / In your arms.” Interestingly, the only percussion on this track is a constant knock on the body of the acoustic guitar contributing to the beautifully hollow shape of the song while, in his absence, speaks volumes about Selway’s contribution to the band.
“The King of Limbs” ends its incredibly short 37-minute run time with the thematically congruent “Separator.” The relaxed track embodies the line “Finally I’m free of all the weight I’ve been carrying” with its lush production and delay-laden instrumentation. As the vestigial limbs of Radiohead’s past informs it’s latest record, clues to the next step in the band’s evolution are for the listener to uncover. Just as the last track ends with the repeating refrain “If you think this is over then you’re wrong,” Yorke offers a reminder that however pleasant the sonic landscape of “The King of Limbs” may be, Radiohead is just passing through.
