Radiohead- The King Of Limbs (*****)

Nobody likes a new Radiohead album on first listen.

Part of that stems from the fact that everyone approaches new Radiohead material with unreasonable expectations, knowing full well the band rarely creates immediate music. Still, even with this in mind, listeners expect the moon. They hold Radiohead responsible in recreating past triumphs while forging ahead into new sonic territory, the two often in conflict with one another. Save for maybe U2 or Metallica, there is scarcely a band operating today that faces such strong criticism before a single note hits the net. They didn’t write another “Creep.” They wrote something too melancholy. They used too many keyboards. They wrote something too glitchy. They didn’t use enough keyboards. They didn’t write another OK Computer…

The list goes on and on.

The King Of Limbs isn’t immune to this phenomenon, and the backlash has been particularly nasty for an album that arrived a full day before its scheduled release. Critics have said it’s too short, or it isn’t as accessible, or worse: It’s merely the band serving Thom Yorke’s love of electronic music for 37 minutes. Yet these are all first impressions and The King Of Limbs is, like most Radiohead albums, too rich to take in all at once.

Instead, it’s a record that finds Radiohead masterfully shifting between musical styles and atmospheres, solidifying their legacy as studio tinkerers in an era of sonic complacency. From the balmy, free-jazz opening of “Bloom,” Radiohead makes it abundantly clear that the album’s rewards are buried deep, and half the fun is diving into the arrangements to find them. Songs like “Bloom” illustrate just how far the band has come since their early 90s work; the track lacks any real sort of chorus, yet remains compelling. To this end, it’s important to credit Jonny and Colin Greenwood as the careful use of strings, jerky bass work, and rich brass keep the song moving over densely layered loops.

In a lot of ways, this sets the tone for The King Of Limbs. It’s an album that grows on you, slowly, like moss on a 1,000 year-old tree.

Yet if there’s one thing that really jumps out, it’s Colin Greenwood’s exemplary performance. His bass ranges from sultry to savage, anchoring these songs while Phil Selway and Yorke’s percussion continues to expand and evolve. Greenwood adds tenseness to the slow burning “Morning Mr. Magpie,” his four-string needling over creeping keyboards. Elsewhere, on the dubstep inspired “Feral,” Greenwood finds a new way to define the low-end as Yorke’s digitized voice splatters against torso-shaking frequencies. Yet by and large, Greenwood’s most accessible and impressive contribution comes in on “Lotus Flower,” as his pulsing and sexy bass work provides the backbone for effervescent beats and an engaging sense of space.

Though The King Of Limbs leans on the group’s electronic influences, it’s not as pristine as one might expect. There’s a hazy aesthetic to much of the album, a studio style fog that washes over these tracks without muddling the mix. This results in some of the album’s most arresting moments, as if the band hoodwinked Dave Brubeck and Neil Young into doing a DJ set in a hidden forest. Songs like the slow crawling, piano dirge “Codex” feel massive as French horn and soft synthesizers create a real sense of majesty against Yorke’s mournful voice. By comparison, “Give Up The Ghost” is submerged in Yorke’s sampled, reverb laced vocals, underpinned with woodsy acoustic guitar. While it’s clear that The King Of Limbs is the product of careful studio construction, there’s a natural quality to it that’s as inviting as it is comforting, which will undoubtedly be part of the album’s appeal down the line.

Of course no Radiohead discussion would be complete without touching on Thom Yorke’s lyrics, which are as cryptic and vivid as ever. Conceptually, Yorke is still exploring relationship dynamics like on In Rainbows but he’s augmenting those observations by touching on the natural/spiritual world as well. He explores profound moments of intimacy on songs like “Lotus Flower” (Slowly we unfold/As lotus flowers/Cause all I want is the moon upon a stick/Just to see what if/Just to see what is…), and the eerily drifting “Separator” (It’s like I’ve fallen out of bed from a long and vivid dream/Finally I’m free of all the weight I’ve been carrying…). Though he shies away from conventional hooks, Yorke explores oneness and decay on The King Of Limbs, continually searching for the things that bind us together on this corporeal plane.

Of course like with most things worth appreciating, The King Of Limbs requires your attention, not your biases.

The group is fully aware of that, and with The King Of Limbs they continue to illustrate one important idea with their music: Namely, that they don’t care about fair weather reactions. At this point in their career, Radiohead don’t need gimmicks like “pay-what-you-want” promotions or videos on MTV. Instead, their willingness to experiment against the grain, against what their critics and fans expect, is the real stroke of genius. It displays the group as methodical, forward thinking, and comfortable, even when the entire Internet is freaking out around them.

In short, The King Of Limbs is the sound of a band that’s sure of themselves, sure that their seasoned songwriting will take subversively root, no matter what the expectations might be.

Key Cuts: Lotus Flower, Codex, Separator

Sounds Like: Burial (Burial), The Black Saint & The Sinner Lady (Charles Mingus), Amnesiac (Radiohead)

Click on the artwork to sample The King Of Limbs for yourself!