The horrendously boring critical confusion over the intentions of the world?s most enigmatic pop band.
And yet there is much more in the way of ambience and distortion on this record, if you can get through all the layers of sound, there is still Thom Yorke's high tenor wailing away, big chucks piano chords and sweeping strings on the crescendos. Nothing you haven't heard before, and wouldn't feel out of place on a PJ Harvey or Tom Waits album. The difference is that there is a subtlety of composition that the band has honed that provides not only engaging palates of sound, but emotionally treads between two or more states of feeling at the same time. Lyrically more obtuse than ever, but it adds to the fill in the blanks listening Radiohead offers.