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.