Radiohead - "The King of Limbs"

The most common reaction by Radiohead fans to the release of the band's eighth studio album has been to note the appraisal of other Radiohead fans. Though most agree that The King of Limbs isn't as phenomenal as 2007's In Rainbows, there's been a uncharactaristic unwillingness to take a firm stance among the group's notoriously rabid fanbase. The most curious allegation that's surfaced has been to deem the album "Radiohead by numbers": though it aptly encapsulates many fans' confusion with Limbs, it also seems to demonstrate an inability to approach the new piece on its own terms. In fact, the album represents an approach that Radiohead - a band which has had more discrete stylistic incarnations during an uninterrupted existence than any band in recent memory, outside of U2 - had never attempted before: low-key. Indeed, beyond an intrinsic strangeness, the only thing tying together the band's previous lows and highs was an unrelenting impression of bigness, from the often offputtingly pubescent semigrunge roars of Pablo Honey through to the masterfully quiet revolution announced on Kid A. But everything about The King of Limbs is self-consciously small, from the absurd introduction of the record (announced just five days before its intended release, and in fact released after only four) to the short running time and nature of the music itself. Opening on a strong note with the up-tempo, Eraser-esque "Bloom," Limbs proceeds through its first half at a similar gallop but nonetheless proves sedate. "Morning Mr. Magpie" contrasts its jittery nature with an eerily laid-back delivery; "Little By Little" (a lesser "All I Need") and the instrumental "Feral" similarly seem content to provide subtly gyrating atmospherics and leave it at that. They work better in context than they would standing alone, serving as an extended lead-in to the album's brilliant second side. Though the most visible of the remaining four tracks is the strong lead single "Lotus Flower" - whose music video and subsequent video remixes became immediate internet sensations - the twin gems "Codex" and "Give Up the Ghost" are the true highlights that lend Limbs its staying power. The former is a beautiful piano ballad every bit the equal of Hail to the Thief's ethereal "Sail to the Moon"; the latter, a spectacular acoustic guitar-driven song embellished with the fullest expression yet recorded of the delicate self-harmonizing that Thom Yorke has made his studio trademark. The album comes to a satisfying conclusion on "Separator," a quietly propulsive track built around a thumping Colin Greenwood bassline and another "human drum machine" performance by Phil Selway, whose wonderfully unadorned solo debut Familial may well have helped to inspire The King of Limbs' identity. It remains to be seen whether the understated approach will constitute a new phase for Radiohead, or merely a brief foray. (If fans are right, and lines like "If you think this is over then you're wrong" are a hint, it may not take long.) Either way, The King of Limbs is a worthy addition to the rich discography of the world's greatest active band, and one that with time will no doubt come be loved for what it is.