Radiohead's latest release, "The King of Limbs," is a surprise for even the most seasoned fans of the Oxford rock band. Those who have listened to the group long enough know Radiohead's incredible capacity for reinvention. After the band secured international stardom with its alt−rock masterpiece "OK Computer" (1997), it followed up with "Kid A" (2000), an electronic−rock fusion that has since garnered recognition as one of the most important albums of the past few decades.
Even by these standards, though, "The King of Limbs" is a huge transition that will equally alienate and fascinate its listeners.
Radiohead's new approach is evident from the opener. The album begins with a cryptic loop of stuttering snare hits and synth bleeps that never quite fall on the downbeat. Within the first few seconds, listeners know that "The King of Limbs" will be one of the band's most experimental albums. As the loop remains stagnant, Thom Yorke croons, "Open your mouth wide/ A universe inside" through a wall of reverb that soon expands to accommodate French horns, a string section and some compelling vocal harmonies.
Fans looking for affirmation of the group's vitality as a live band will be much happier listening to "In Rainbows" (2007). The border between live and sequenced music is blurred beyond distinction on this record, keeping the band from the explosive energy that characterized many of its previous releases. Band members have eschewed their considerable talent as instrumentalists to craft a more understated album that ultimately rewards the listener as much as any of their greatest works have.
While "In Rainbows" featured a protean, organic sound that changed throughout every song with constantly evolving melodies and song structures, "The King of Limbs" predominately focuses on the textural and rhythmic possibility of loops. These loops remain unchanged throughout the song and form a bedrock that supports layers of changing sounds and melodies. This dichotomy between unwavering and fluctuating elements is one of the most compelling aspects of the record.
"Feral" epitomizes this approach. This is the only track without conventional vocal work. All of Yorke's singing is filtered, processed and pitch−shifted beyond recognition, making it another electronic component in a sea of chugging rhythms and abstract synth work. While the song's minimalist groove may estrange some fans, it opens up wonderfully after multiple listens. What initially seems like an indulgent experiment with various pieces of equipment reveals itself to be an immaculately crafted song that prizes aesthetic pleasure as much as any great Radiohead track.
"The King of Limbs" takes a dramatic turn at the halfway mark with the infectious track "Lotus Flower." Easily the most traditional Radiohead track, "Lotus Flower" combines the band's new minimalist arrangement with its incredible knack for song development. The track resembles the work of musician Brian Eno, opening with a minute of instrumental/electronic introductions to build anticipation. When Yorke finally comes in with one of his most understated, feverishly catchy melodies, it's aural bliss. By the song's midsection he's flying over mournful synths with his trademark falsetto, bending notes with a pop inflection that solidifies "Lotus Flower" as the album's strongest single.
The rest of the album follows the band through a more traditional Radiohead approach. Loops are less emphasized, letting the instrumental aspect of its sound shine through. "Codex" is an affecting, elegiac track in the vein of "Pyramid Song" and "Videotape" (from "Amnesiac" (2001) and "In Rainbows," respectively) that opens with a somber piano dirge before blossoming into a series of string flourishes and French horns.
However brief this climax may be, it's a refreshing change from the more abstract sound of the album's first half and gives it a more balanced sound. The next song, "Give Up the Ghost," is even more beautiful, with an aching layer of vocals chanting, "Don't worry/ Don't hurt me" beneath a strummed acoustic guitar and a delicate melody.
"The King of Limbs" closes fittingly with a propulsive song entitled "Separator." The song begins with a simple melody over a taut drumbeat before layers of vocals and ethereal guitar lines impart the song with a ghostly air. When the last drum hit finishes, the listener is left with a challenging, schizophrenic album that justifies Radiohead's reputation as one of the world's most unpredictable rock bands.
Many listeners will reject "The King of Limbs" for its minimalist, electronic sound, but they're only shortchanging themselves. This album takes on a different aura after several listens: What may seem simple or under−produced at first reveals all of its nuances over time. Just like any Radiohead record, "The King of Limbs" is a dynamic, challenging album that will reward any devoted listener with hours of enjoyment.
