Review Summary: Oh, Radiohead.
It must suck to be Radiohead. It must
really suck to be proclaimed by mainstream media outlets as the Biggest Band In The World. It must suck to have made
OK Computer and
Kid A, two records that defined their respective decades, back-to-back, solidifying the band's standing in the annals of pop music's weird and tumultuous history, causing people to expect large-scale ambition out of every single record the band decided to make. It must
really suck to be feeling all that pressure from fans and critics alike. I feel bad for Radiohead, I really do, and if I've found the band's output to be somewhat overrated, I at least have enormous respect for their ability to maintain a standard of excellence throughout their illustrious career. But then they decide to release their newest album a day earlier than scheduled to considerably little fanfare, and I'm left utterly befuddled.
Because
The King of Limbs is an album fraught with contradictions, a record that sounds better on paper than it does in practice. A synthesis of the organic production of
In Rainbows with
Amnesiac's skittering, uneasy electronic percussion is a wonderful prospect. But while there are fleeting moments across the album's eight songs where the combination does prove fruitful, the end result is, for the most part, oddly cold. Radiohead have never been a particularly
friendly band, but even on their most cryptic records, there was always an immediate emotional connection in their music, whether it was delivered by Thom Yorke's inimitable voice or Jonny Greenwood's superior arrangements. But here, the distance between Radiohead and their audience is practically palpable. Some of these songs sound almost unfinished, stuck in a sort of tentative gestation period. "Morning Mr Magpie", originally a B-side off of
The Bends, is considerably reworked for
The King of Limbs, yet still sounds more like a halfhearted outtake than a fully formed album cut. It's possible that this is a result of the song's inherent lack of finesse, but "Morning Mr Magpie" is still included on the final tracklist, which speaks volumes about the loose nature of
The King of Limbs as a whole.
Which isn't to say that this looseness is a
bad thing, necessarily, although Radiohead have never seemed to operate well within hazily defined boundaries. The band's first single release after the release of
In Rainbows, "These Are My Twisted Words", suffered from a lack of clear structure and was frustratingly aimless as a result. The same thing happens here with "Little By Little", which opens with a chunky guitar riff reminiscent of "I Might Be Wrong" and "Knives Out" and is unable to take it anywhere. Once again, we have an instance of a song that
should be excellent, but isn't; Phil Selway's drumming is reasonably proficient, Yorke's singing is as expressive as ever, and that guitar riff is fantastic, yet these elements never seem to coalesce into a coherent whole. Opener "Bloom" fares much better, with its disparate textures - an uneasy reversed-piano line, skittering drum programming, and a lush orchestral arrangement - successfully creating a beautiful sonic environment filled with sustained tension. These lovely moments are unfortunately few and far between, too often eschewed in favor of meticulously constructed atmosphere.
That atmosphere is effectively all that carries "Feral", a three-minute track filled with anxious beats, manipulated cut-and-paste vocals, a woozy bassline, and...well, that's it, really. It's fantastically produced and an undeniably pleasant listen, but its appeal lessens over time, as its fundamental formlessness becomes more and more apparent. The track seems to play the role that "Treefingers" and "Faust Arp" did, yet it lacks the simple musical beauty that made those tracks such effective album interludes. When Radiohead's knack for melody and harmony finally appear on single "Lotus Flower", it's a breath of fresh air. Yet even this pleasant tune is coated with a sense of cool and reserved impenetrability, despite its intimate lyrical content. Yorke may coo "I will sneak myself into your pocket," but he doesn't really sound particularly interested in doing so. Only on the album's final couplet does Radiohead seem to really let their collective hair down. "Give Up The Ghost" is something of a revelation, driven by lightly plucked acoustic guitar and a gorgeous, ethereal vocal line, and "Separator" is an appealingly relaxed jam defined by Yorke gorgeously wailing, "If you think this is over then you're wrong," over and over again.
It's a highly enjoyable conclusion to a rather confusing album. Here we have eight songs that are each worth some thoughtful examination, filled with scattered moments of near-brilliance and a great deal of sonic navel-gazing, never remotely unpleasant to listen to but never particularly gripping either.
The King of Limbs may eventually reveal itself to be crucial in the development of Radiohead's sound, but as is, it shows all the signs of a musical stepping stone, lacking a clear focus and much in the way of actual substance.
