РІР‚СљThereРІР‚в„ўs a spacecraft blocking out the sky,РІР‚Сњ Yorke observes on РІР‚СљDecks Dark,РІР‚Сњ as choral voices pass overhead. The music here feels loose and unknotted, broken open in the way you can only be after a tragedy. Even so, the impact of trauma, a sort of car crash of the soul, is palpable. Radiohead albums are the stuff of dreams and nightmares, and the band retains a healthy resistance to clarity their music is a maze of signs you can peer into any way you like. That isnРІР‚в„ўt to say that this is necessarilyР’В a РІР‚Сљbreak-up album.РІР‚Сњ Separations (particularly those involving children) take place in the harsh light of day, with lawyersРІР‚в„ў appointments and checklists and logistical arrangements.

Yorke separated from his partner of 23 years and the mother to his two children last August, and on РІР‚СљIdentikit,РІР‚Сњ he sings РІР‚СљBroken hearts make it rainРІР‚Сњ and РІР‚СљWhen I see you messinРІР‚в„ў me around, I donРІР‚в„ўt want to know.РІР‚Сњ It also feels like an exorcism for what follows: a plunge into something scarier than the military industrial complex, or the insidious nature of propaganda, or human natureРІР‚в„ўs disturbing tendency towards unquestioning obedience. ItРІР‚в„ўs a vintage splash of Radiohead stomach acid, a cloud of gnats unleashed in your cranial nerves. (In fact, several of the songРІР‚в„ўs lyrics-РІР‚Сљavoid all eye contact,РІР‚Сњ РІР‚Сљcheer at the gallowsРІР‚Сњ-first appeared in the album art to 2003РІР‚в„ўs anti-Bush polemic Hail to the Thief.) Meanwhile, Jonny GreenwoodРІР‚в„ўs brittle modernist string arrangement reinforces the angst, turning the orchestra into a giant pair of gnashing teeth. РІР‚СљThis is a low-flying panic attack,РІР‚Сњ Yorke announces, explicitly linking to the bad old days of air crashes, iron lungs, and wolves at doors. Opener РІР‚СљBurn the WitchРІР‚Сњ has been floating around, in some form or another, since Kid A. The album is framed by two older pieces of music that act as gateways to the darker, unfamiliar waters within. Yorke has flirted with surrender before, and on A Moon Shaped Pool, that submission feels nearly complete. It sounds for all the world like the most cloistered and isolated soul in modern rock music opening up and admitting a helplessness far more personal than heРІР‚в„ўs ever dared. РІР‚СљThis goes beyond me, beyond you,РІР‚Сњ he sings on РІР‚СљDaydreaming.РІР‚Сњ РІР‚СљWe are just happy to serve you.РІР‚Сњ There is no concealed razor under YorkeРІР‚в„ўs tongue as he offers this thought, or in the pearly music that surrounds him. He is now considering simpler truths in a heretofore-unexplored register: wonder and amazement.

In the past, Thom Yorke has sharply peppered his lyrics with everyday cliches to suggest a mind consumed by meaningless data, but on the new album, he largely moves beyond cynicism. Their music is obsessed with the point where great truths harden into platitudes, where pure signal meets wretched noise. Radiohead, who titled their ninth studio album A Moon Shaped Pool, have a unique grasp on how easily profundity can slip into banality.

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