ORIGINAL RELEASE DATE: FEBRUARY 18TH 2011
1YRON’S TOP 52 RECORDS OF 2011 RANKING: #28


By releasing their music with little prior warning, Radiohead have bucked the trend of sustaining hype or anticipation. The King Of Limbs, the band’s eighth studio album, was scheduled for release on February 19th and officially announced a mere five days prior. Its actual release date was brought forth by one day, as if to make comment on its abrupt announcement in the first place. Controlling the elements of frenzy and surprise surrounding a new release can work for many artists, but Radiohead inspire more ardent discussion, round-the-clock blogging and fervent dissection than any other. The sudden announcement of even a new track by Thom Yorke and his associates is enough to feel like a statement on the way they command total power over the distribution of their music and how this will likely affect the many artists inspired by them. The immediate reaction to Limbs was one that divided critics and fans, an idea that seemed almost unthinkable in itself. Indeed, Limbs came three and a half years after one of the greatest records in recent memory so to follow with something less than stellar was not only unexpected, it was totally unacceptable. The debate surrounding In Rainbows’ distribution technique brought in a whole new army of fans and it seemed everyone had something to say on the true price of music. The only thing that remained constant was the music itself: In Rainbows is built of stellar songs, monolithic in their scope and ambition. It’s been said that it rivals Kid A for sheer grandeur, yet it’s difficult to make a case for either which is wholly dissuasive.


Limbs shares many similarities with Kid A upon reflection. Both had no immediate ‘singles’ and none were officially released. Both were heavily-anticipated, following albums which are safely considered classics, and both managed to buck the trend by giving listeners not what they thought they wanted but what they ultimately needed. With Kid A particularly, it also gave Radiohead what they needed: rejuvenation. Maybe it does a disservice to refer to Kid A’s curveball tricks as mere reinvention. It reinvented the bloody wheel, and no other record felt as pioneering in a decade where the very idea of pioneering felt so abandoned. Perhaps the jury’s still out on Limbs, since Radiohead are not the kind of band endearing to the untrained ear. I feel that Limbs is perhaps still in the process of absorption into Radiohead’s outstanding oeuvre, such is the depth and complexity of their work and only once their next release comes along will we understand its significance, however great or small that may be.


Composed of eight tracks, Limbs was initially accused of being too short. A year on, it feels just right, and as such can be divided into two halves. The first showcases the band’s talent for establishing dense swirls of rising instrumentation, opening with the deep plunge of Bloom which gradually builds upon drum loops tumbling under a sea of tidal horns and jazzy polyrhythms. Feral, on the other hand, closes the first half of Limbs and it’s an example of just how effective Radiohead’s continuing process of refinement can be. Whilst it’s true that Feral could go as far back as to nestle comfortably somewhere on Amnesiac, it wouldn’t sound nearly as tight as this. It also displays that Radiohead are excited by the music of others, similar in a sense to that of Burial’s Untrue (strange how the title track of Bevan’s newly released Kindred EP bears an uncanny resemblance to its skittish, repetitive rhythm section) or the apocalyptic abyss of Portishead’s Third. Yorke’s vocals have always come to define Radiohead’s alarmingly powerful sense of communicable skills, but here they take a backseat on Limbs’ first half to a remarkably playful sense of rhythm. The idea of Radiohead being playful with beat and rhythm is an important one. On Kid A and its stunning counterpart Amnesiac, rhythm was defined by a strict sense of experimentation, a process of trial and error which always felt like a clear statement of intent. When all is said and done, Radiohead really aren’t pushing it here like they did a decade ago because their immediate concerns aren’t invested in progressing in a way that they once did. What more do they have to prove? To downplay their achievements has always afforded them an escape from the trappings of success, and Limbs always remains subtle in spite of its extraordinary degree of quality control.


The first half of the record is dominated by a sense of anxiety and extroverted, non-linear structures. Its concerns are very much invested in the world as it looks outward, exploring the lifeforms of oceans on Bloom to analysing the human condition on Morning Mr Magpie. Surrounding its sinister, beady-eyed critique is a fretless beat, skittish and almost sexy in its suggestive nature. On the Optimistic-sounding Little By Little, this contradiction of a slinky, sultry rhythm is marred by Yorke’s fatigued vocal drawl, a world-weary dejection that rides atop waves of reversed guitars and drums. This spills over onto Lotus Flower, the first ‘single’ from Limbs with its flappy, flimsy drum pattern and loping bass. It’s the closest thing that Limbs offers to anything resembling a dance format, continually returning to a hushed reprise with the lyrics, “Just to feed your fast ballooning head.” As such, it affords the song a familiarity and enduring appeal that nothing on the first half of the record can or should. Codex marks the sharp shift in Limbs’ landscape, falling fast into a dreamlike reverie. It’s a piano ballad with a languid structure, coagulating with the introduction of gently creeping orchestral swells towards its closure. It’s Limbs’ Pyramid Song, its Sail To The Moon, its Nude, its How To Disappear Completely. Whatever, the list goes on. You get the picture. It showcases what Radiohead do best through the most subtle of chord changes, the kind that can blow your head clean off every time you hear it. Give Up The Ghost is the furthest delve into this dreamworld with distorted, multi-tracked vocals and gentle acoustic guitar. In stark contrast to the unfamiliar rhythm textures of its first half, Limbs is now pure vocal melody, stripped of the noise and the clutter. Beautifully, it manages to be both barren and plentiful, warmly inviting yet soft around the edges. Its intentions now directed inward, Limbs looks at itself from the outside and is more suited to the needs of the individual listener. This feeling of immersion is why Radiohead still work, and how a bunch of old-timers can still make the most talked about record of the year.

Separator closes the album, distinct for Phil Selway’s modulating drum loops and minimalist arrangement. At the time of its release, by prompting a million rumours by way of Separator’s famous vocal refrain, “If you think this is over then you’re wrong,” it seemed that Limbs would be followed up by a “second half,” perhaps a conclusion or justification for its markedly brief run time. It’s now clear after a year that those reports were totally unsubstantiated, and what’s most interesting is to see the way a lot of people merely expected it. We come to expect so much of the bands we hold in highest esteem, yet Radiohead have never and will never be concerned with pandering to anyone’s needs other than their own. On the back of Limbs, we’ve seen Supercollider/The Butcher and The Daily Mail/Staircase, a remix album by way of TKOL RMK 1234567 and From The Basement. Yet while the quantity of their output continues to be plentiful, what it comes back to is the album format itself. Both Ed O’Brien and Yorke commented on the exhaustive process of recording In Rainbows and how following it up with anything similarly ambitious would’ve killed them. Limbs is a direct reaction to that exhaustion and as such serves as a more transitionary piece, designed to push the band’s sound into potential new directions. It’s just a shame that many people expect Radiohead to continually reinvent the wheel. Some have complained of Limbs’ apparent lack of guitars (there are guitars aplenty here) and it’s surprising to me that anyone would actively listen to this band, at this stage in their massively developed career, for nothing more than guitars when there are a hundred other more interesting ideas at work, sometimes in the same song. Limbs has unfortunately been relegated to something of an anomaly within their back catalogue, but time will mostly change that. Radiohead have a way of reinventing their past by boldly pioneering their future, even when they don’t intend to.