The King of Limbs

The King of Limbs begins with Bloom, a track which, if you were oblivious that it’s a Radiohead song, you might, at its opening seconds, judge as a video game background music created by an amateur indie band; a judgment which isn't entirely negative if you were to imagine a more inauspicious scenario as that in which the record opens with a mainstream-ish sound. A minute or two into the song you grasp its eccentric beauty, as if it were designed to transform from a relatively senseless loop of sounds to an actual song.

The next seven songs seem to be brothers or cousins of the opener, except no more misleading intros. No old Jonny Greenwood riffs for you, either. There are loops, ambient sounds, samples, birdsong--but not a single aggressive chord from Jonny. Had you been thrown into the album without prior information about it and were asked if it was a Radiohead album or a solo album by Thom Yorke, you would find the question quite challenging.

Obviously, if you’re a rocker looking for a record to which you could head-bang, this record is not for you. This sounds more like electronic music than alternative rock. You can instantly immerse in this splendid alien sound trip and savor every seconds of it only if you appreciate or are used to Radiohead’s experimental stuff, otherwise this album would be like a trip to the Kingdom of Boredom.

The highlight of the album is Lotus Flower. If I were asked to choose one song from this album to listen to on loop, it would be this song. The lotus dance, as demonstrated by Thom Yorke, is a physically rewarding alternative to head-banging.

A relatively disappointing aspect of this album is that it contains just eight tracks. Two or three songs more and it would have gotten close to Kid A standard (or, to unaccustomed ears, it would have prolonged the drag). In a rather concise 37 minutes, it seems as if Limbs was intended to be consumed on a cab ride caught on heavy traffic. Hey, Radiohead on the go isn’t a bad idea at all.

Freeradio's DEAF

At present—an age dominated by K-Pop, Auto-Tune pop, and skank pop—it’s not impossible that somewhere someone might sometimes wish he’d rather be deaf. If you are this frustrated someone, listen to DEAF.

Freeradio’s new independent EP kicks off promisingly with the grungy track Deny Me. With an opening riff that declares it is a raw subterranean band you’re listening to (not one of the squeaky clean rock bunch floating in the polluted mainstream), it allows you to heat up right from the get-go. Just right for the next song, Emergency, during which you’ll most probably do the almost lost art of headbanging.

Emergency, however, is the record’s deceiving song. The opening riff, like the previous song’s, is a clever hook, but as the singer deviates from his usual singing style (he sounds like he’s intoxicated) you may need some time to get used to the vocals or it might fool you into thinking that Freeradio is an unsophisticated garage band.

While Emergency isn’t the most remarkable song in the EP, at least it has the most energetic chorus. Nothing spectacular; just plain hyper fun. Imagine yourself in a small jam-packed music club in the early ‘90s, watching a band rocking out with a tipsy front man. You lose yourself in the music, a riot breaks out, and the lead singer sings out Emergency’s chorus: settle down, settle down.

And settle down indeed: Easily outshining Emergency is the next track, Arms Around—the sort of rock song that starts seemingly tame and ignites with a chorus that oozes through the soul at first emergence:

Forever in the dark and always praying . . .
The load upon your back won't keep you kneeling . . .

Had this song been released during the early ‘90s, this song would have been huge, instantly. Incredibly, this isn’t the record’s biggest hit. That label belongs to the EP’s splendid finale:

Falls Free.

Opening with a woman’s melodic moaning, the song churns flaming guitar works and heartfelt words into one lingering rock masterwork. Now forget about ‘90s comparison; as far as Falls Free is concerned, DEAF is timeless.

One might fancy that the gods of rock must have headbanged excessively back in the rock heydays and created a massive dent in the time-space continuum, causing four mighty fine songs to swerve and leap from the glorious past directly to the dreary future. But no, this recording gem has been created in present day Calbayog, Philippines.

Track after track, DEAF’s power rises, ultimately reaching a cathartic peak. It’s a tight record with an intentional lo-fi approach, a sublimated dirty finger in the face of musical banality.


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You can download DEAF for free here:

http://www.4shared.com/file/W5NJtE8C/Freeradio-DEAF_RestlessBed.html