Radiohead — A Moon-Shaped Pool

XL | discogs.com

A band of excess and spectacle pares it back for an intimate affair

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Chameleons can change colour not only to camouflage themselves against their surroundings, but also to communicate and regulate body temperature. When predators threaten, various species of gecko can sever their tails to act as a decoy and escape. Boneless cephalopods such as the octopus can compress themselves into unexpectedly small spaces to access delicious morsels of food.

With small or large changes in conditions, a single animal can make itself almost unrecognisable.

Radiohead began, as many musicians of the nineties did, with jangly indie rock. But after releasing three albums — chronologically good, excellent and astonishing — they suddenly switched their guitars for synthesisers and would never return to their original sound. It's tempting to conclude that on OK Computer, Radiohead mastered the genre and saw no need to retrace their steps. The schism between their earlier and later works, themselves exquisite soundscapes of electronic beeps and whistles, is a striking event unparalleled in modern music history.

And now, a confluence. Similarly lovely ambient environments, but arranged for humbler instruments: velvety piano, swirling strings, soothing choir. A Moon-Shaped Pool is a natural progression, taking a single step forward rather than twenty.

Radiohead, a group defined by impatience and zeal, is finally learning restraint.