There wasn't ever any question really. Within days of the release of Radiohead's long-awaited LP9 (9th album), it was evident to me that A Moon Shaped Pool was another treasure chest of Radiohead magic - rich, exciting, multi-faceted, stunningly beautiful and continuously rewarding, just like their best. The mere existence of A Moon Shaped Pool and the fact that Radiohead are still challenging themselves to making great new music 25 years into their career makes me immensely grateful, but this first place isn't just me being nostalgic. A Moon Shaped Pool is excellent by any standards, and I recommend it strongly also to people who haven't heard much Radiohead before.
The hype was good, even by Radiohead standards. It's been a long wait since 2011's slightly underwhelming The King of Limbs, but rumours of a new album were circulating this winter. After the announcement of summer tour dates heightened speculations further, the band grew painfully quiet. Then certain fans received spooky postcards in the mail, and in a fascinating turn of events Radiohead's entire online present was faded away. All old tweets and Facebook posts were deleted, profile pictures turned white, and on radiohead.com, the opacity was gradually increased over an entire day until it was all just a white. After a week of this suspense where no Radiohead existed, a chirping claymation bird heralded the new "Burn the witch" video.
It's one of only a few songs on the album that change for me depending on the light I see them in. In 2015, Yorke separated from Rachel Owen, his partner for 23 years and mother of his two children, and on December 18th 2016 (as I began writing this review) came the shocking news that she had died at age 47, after a long battle with cancer. There's a lot of love and loss on A Moon Shaped Pool, but to what extent the songs are about his relationship with Owen is not immediately clear, and it's the new recordings of the older songs ("Present tense" and especially "True love waits") that seem to bear the strongest mark. Contrasting "True love waits" anno 2016 with its 2001 version on I Might Be Wrong: Live Recordings, recorded at a time when Yorke and Owen had just had their first child, it becomes painfully clear how the chant of "just don't leave" has changed meaning.
In the physical release, the album is dedicated to Nigel Godrich's father, who passed away while Godrich was working on the album. If there's a key lyric on A Moon Shaped Pool, it must be "as my world comes crashing down, I'll be dancing, freaking out" (closely followed by "you've really messed up everything"). My sense is that Yorke and Godrich are more focused than ever on this album, that they're overcoming difficult times by doing the one thing they're best at. They gathered their band and put their everything into making as good a record as possible. And though they're certainly not the explosion of energy they were in the 90s, or the restless experimenters they were in the 00s, it's still a marvel when Radiohead commit to making the best record they can.
Best tracks: "Daydreaming", "Identikit", "Present tense", "Burn the witch", "Decks dark", "True love waits", and oh God it hurts to omit "Ful stop" and "The numbers".
But if nothing else, watch those two videos dammit.
 |
| A strange mix between natural elements and digital chops. What you see in it depends on the viewer. Polar sea ice melting? A tumor growing in the body? |
The hype was good, even by Radiohead standards. It's been a long wait since 2011's slightly underwhelming The King of Limbs, but rumours of a new album were circulating this winter. After the announcement of summer tour dates heightened speculations further, the band grew painfully quiet. Then certain fans received spooky postcards in the mail, and in a fascinating turn of events Radiohead's entire online present was faded away. All old tweets and Facebook posts were deleted, profile pictures turned white, and on radiohead.com, the opacity was gradually increased over an entire day until it was all just a white. After a week of this suspense where no Radiohead existed, a chirping claymation bird heralded the new "Burn the witch" video.
"Burn the witch" is perhaps Radiohead's strongest political commentary since the Hail to the Thief days. The dramatic video and the disturbing lyrics lash out against the horrors of groupthink and mob behaviour, and Thom Yorke's terrified wails remind you that if you don't pay attention, tumultous times like these can have people following ghastly mantras like "Abandon all reason / Avoid all eye contact / Do not react / Shoot the messengers / This is a low-flying panic attack". It's the refugee crisis, it's Trump's rize, it's climate change. The brilliant counterpoint melodies in the second verse, the thumping bass and drum machines, and the crescendo of Jonny Greenwood's col legno strings at the end of the song, one of the most chilling moments in Radiohead's discography, all make "Burn the witch" a powerful opener and impressive comeback single.
The rest of the album is less immediate, it's quieter and gentler, but equally strong. The arrangements, orchestrations and in particular the production on A Moon Shaped Pool are all amazing. Longtime producer Nigel Godrich (hailed as the sixth member of Radiohead) has created an intricate and beautiful record, brimming with unusual elements that flesh out and diversify the mid- and down-tempo tracks. After acclimatizing to this multi-layered wonder, the beloved In Rainbows now sounds bare, simple and almost boring. On the longing "Present tense", a surprisingly bossa-tinged beat and Godrich's intense use of reverb create an atmosphere unlike any other of Radiohead's acoustic guitar ballads. I don't know what kind of effect he put on the Satie-esque piano on "Glass eyes", but the disoriented feeling of the track stands out even on the hundredth listen. The bouncy, multi-part highlight "Identikit" has been modified just enough from its 2012-tour version that it fits perfectly alongside the other songs on A Moon Shaped Pool. But the biggest stroke of genius is the treatment of "True love waits". For 20 years it's been a live favorite with Thom alone on acoustic guitar, but the reworking on A Moon Shaped Pool to a sparse, icy piano piece brings a whole new meaning to the lovesick teenager lyrics. Decorated with piano snippets rolled around on unsynced tape fragments (the whole album is recorded on analogue tape), it's the kind of flawless recording where every odd sound contributes to the atmosphere in an unexplicable but essential way.
It's one of only a few songs on the album that change for me depending on the light I see them in. In 2015, Yorke separated from Rachel Owen, his partner for 23 years and mother of his two children, and on December 18th 2016 (as I began writing this review) came the shocking news that she had died at age 47, after a long battle with cancer. There's a lot of love and loss on A Moon Shaped Pool, but to what extent the songs are about his relationship with Owen is not immediately clear, and it's the new recordings of the older songs ("Present tense" and especially "True love waits") that seem to bear the strongest mark. Contrasting "True love waits" anno 2016 with its 2001 version on I Might Be Wrong: Live Recordings, recorded at a time when Yorke and Owen had just had their first child, it becomes painfully clear how the chant of "just don't leave" has changed meaning.
In the physical release, the album is dedicated to Nigel Godrich's father, who passed away while Godrich was working on the album. If there's a key lyric on A Moon Shaped Pool, it must be "as my world comes crashing down, I'll be dancing, freaking out" (closely followed by "you've really messed up everything"). My sense is that Yorke and Godrich are more focused than ever on this album, that they're overcoming difficult times by doing the one thing they're best at. They gathered their band and put their everything into making as good a record as possible. And though they're certainly not the explosion of energy they were in the 90s, or the restless experimenters they were in the 00s, it's still a marvel when Radiohead commit to making the best record they can.
Best tracks: "Daydreaming", "Identikit", "Present tense", "Burn the witch", "Decks dark", "True love waits", and oh God it hurts to omit "Ful stop" and "The numbers".
But if nothing else, watch those two videos dammit.
