“A Moon Shaped Pool” is Radiohead’s comeback from arguably their most disappointing record in their discography, “The King of Limbs.” It’s not easy for a band to make such a remarkable comeback as they did here, with a record that combines powerful, emotionally-stirring lyrics with the band’s classic experimental rock sound. 

Lead singer Thom Yorke had just divorced his wife, Rachel Owen, and it’s pretty clear this had some influence on the album. However, other topics such as climate change and corrupt leadership take on some of the lyrical heavy lifting. 

While it was released almost 10 years ago, there have been rumors circulating about the band touring or even releasing a new album within the next year. 

“A Moon Shaped Pool” has been in my “on repeat” catalog for the last few months, so I wanted to review the album to talk about what makes it so special to me. In the U.S., the album sold 181,000 copies in its first week, making it the biggest sales week since their 2003 album “Hail to the Thief.” This is one of Radiohead’s later LPs, so it kind of surprised me to see how well this album sold. 

“Burn the Witch” is the opening song. The pacing fully immerses you to feel like there really is a witch hunt happening and you’re part of it whether you like it or not. Lyrics like “avoid all eye contact / do not react” show how dangerous groupthink can be, a key trait of the historical witch trials. 

The first 10 seconds of “Daydreaming” stand out in the entirety of this album. All of the sounds blend beautifully in the ending build up, almost to a point where it feels like you need to take your headphones off because of how overwhelming the crescendo is. The most powerful part of this song is the unexpectedness of where it is going to go. The beginning is so delicate and it’s shocking to reach the end of this track.

Moving into “Decks Dark,” it seems like electronic glimmers and contrasting sounds from the first two tracks were borrowed to create the song. The same muffled piano and continuous ethereal tremors are frequent throughout in the background. The song’s lyrics describe political unrest and the feeling of hopelessness from the powerful collective above that looms over us. When things take a turn for the worst it is nothing but inevitable to cave into the darkness that surrounds us.

“Desert Island Disk” has a hushed western-ish guitar riff that jumps the song into Yorke’s serene vocals. When I heard this song, I thought of the show on BBC of the same name where people talk about the albums they would bring on a deserted island. I feel like this is a play on words as Yorke writes about escaping an island of sorts, which could even be about a divorce, a theme that frequents this album.

Next up is “Ful Stop”, a higher-tempo, electronic-focused song that swiftly morphs into an ethereal layered synth within the minute mark. A lot of the songs on this album seem like depressing, heart wrenching breakup songs whereas this is louder and almost agitated. 

The beginning of “Glass Eyes” is so beautiful. It’s beautiful in a way that it makes you feel like you’re floating in a pool of the calmest, serene water with overgrown plants pouring out of it. The slightly surreal sounds early in the song give an underwater feel, requiring the listener to allow themself to submerge in this song’s murky feel. 

This is where I start to see a more personal connection to Yorke, as this song presents itself as the sadness of a person who loves someone they can no longer have. Even the lyrics; it seems like they are a written version of a voicemail Yorke could have sent or received. You can feel the solitude protruding from this song. 

It’s hard for me to talk about “Identikit”, mostly because it comes after such a solemn song. But to be fair, any song that followed “Glass Eyes” on this album would have disappointed me. Once again, the lyrical meaning feels like the showstopper here. When we put someone on a pedestal, we don’t want to learn bad things about them because it changes our perception of them. 

On top of that, when we find out they aren’t available, it can be a gut wrenching feeling, which is arguably shown in the last bit of the song with murmuring vocals and a shrill guitar solo. 

“The Numbers” is such a classic Radiohead song that I feel like there’s nothing to say about it. Yorke writes about a call for revolution against systems that have failed us repeatedly. I will say these are some of the most cliche lyrics I’ve heard in a while. Lines like “Your system is a lie / The river running dry” seem a little stale in my eyes. 

Going into “Present Tense”, this song dives into some kind of bystander behavior that people can display when they know someone is in danger. Some of us choose to do nothing about it in the present and might regret it later. 

“Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor Rich Man Poor Man Beggar Man Thief” easily stands out, but only because the name is so long. This song perfectly rounds up what it’s like to be in your room when you know everyone else is out and you know you’re missing out on a lot of stuff, but you don’t do anything about it. 

There is a pang of anxiety I mentioned earlier that creeps in on this song, but it’s more comforting than it is worrying. The sound is incredibly eerie, and it stays consistent throughout. 

“True Love Waits” is a perfect roundup song for this album. Incredibly somber, dark, moody  can all be words used to describe it. I feel like the little piano chords played are like a glimmer of hope to salvage an already-failing relationship; that most people are afraid to let go of even though they know they should. 

I think the song is about giving up your attitudes, ego and anything that you find important to keep the one you love around. It’s disappointing and you feel guilty when you do it. You can’t stop yourself. These are the moments you can tell you’re really in love. 

This album is fantastically well done, and is still relevant today when it comes to lyrical analysis. If Radiohead is planning to do anything in the future, they’ve captured my attention and I can’t wait to see what they do next. 

Marianne Akre can be reached at orionmanagingeditor@gmail.com.