By Bryan Menegus

Thom Yorke-  lazy-eyed frontman of alternative wondergroup Radiohead-  stands, framed in high contrast black-and-white, in the bleak confines of what appears to be an abandoned tube station (see: subway tunnel). He contorts and gyrates, clutching a bowler hat to his head, in an interpretive dance reminiscent of an autistic Charlie Chaplin, in a half-tucked dress shirt and skinny jeans. The spasms continue for five full uninterrupted minutes. Summarily, this describes the music video for “Lotus Flower,” the de facto media promotion for their latest release, The King of Limbs. It’s difficult to imagine its relevance.

Ever the group to buck expectation and ride emerging trends, the Radiohead camp announced the existence of Limbs less than a week before its proposed release. Like In Rainbows it was produced and distributed digitally by the band. Unlike In Rainbows, it was no longer free, and the option was given to order a $50 “newspaper release”: two 10″ vinyls, a CD, a digital download, over 600 pieces of art and “a full-colour piece of oxo-degradeable plastic to hold it all together”. Despite all of their ace PR, Radiohead still released Limbs a day early. Based on the record’s brevity and the recurring line of the last track, “Separator”, “If you think this is over then you’re wrong”, many critics immediately speculated that the premature release was merely part one of the album (a theory which has since been disproven). All in all, Limbs has been a lot of hubbub and buzz. But remember, this is Radiohead- they wouldn’t be blowing hot air for nothing, right?

Musically, The King of Limbs is closest to 2000’s Kid A and it’s fraternal follow-up Amnesiac, at least in their mutual concentration on electronic elements. However, Limbs’ electronic bent attempts to ride the ever-growing wave of “post-dub” (the moody, atmospheric and often-meterless cousin of dubstep), forcing Radiohead to twist their sometimes lush instrumentation to meet the genre’s skeletal demands. Likewise, the usual components alternative rock, such as strong dynamic changes and a strict song structure, are cast aside to marry the genres into a more imperfect union. “Feral” is their most drastic example. Not a single recognizable element of the band- from any of their eras- is invited. Even Yorke’s trademark falsetto only emerges as a rhythmic element, in preverbal monosyllabic jabs.

Conceptually, combining two highly unlike genres, one a mainstay and the other an upstart, is a recipe for potentially groundbreaking work. And who better to tackle such Olympian heights than an established, critically-lauded band with complete creative control and a vast, rabid fanbase. Yet something is inconsistent with the internal workings of Limbs. While many critics have danced around it, calling the record “moody” or “dense”, the better-suited word seems to be ‘flat’. Limbs catches a mood, holds on and then strangles the life out of it until it lacks any identifiable passion or drive. “Give Up the Ghost” feels like a 10mph drive in circles, and “Bloom” is so percussively similar to “Morning Mr. Magpie” that the two become a single ten-minute odyssey. Even “Little By Little”, the closest to their In Rainbows sound, seems to plod along, aching for a crescendo to give its four-and-a-half minutes of girth some meaning.

Perhaps the “Lotus Flower” video is more telling than we’d like to imagine. What could have been something brilliant became a series of unpracticed flails towards a confused audience. Where the black-and-white mood of the record could have drawn things into sharper focus, instead it seems to echo the dullard photography student’s motto of “I desaturated it to make it artsy”. And finally, although Radiohead have worn many hats in their 26-year career, Thom Yorke looks like a moron in a bowler.