Radiohead's 'A Moon Shaped Pool' Plays On Our Energy And Rewards Our Patience

Waiting for this album to drop has been like waiting for Santa or the Tooth Fairy. Do I really deserve another handful of enough gold coins large enough to ensure the loss of the next tooth? Plus, am I (and are they) too old to still believe in childish stuff like the excitement of a new album and the possibility of a new masterpiece?

Tucked up in bed over the last few nights Radiohead has delivered. Opener Burn The Witch was first, then the next sleep and dream delivered album track two, Daydreaming. Both are gorgeous and recognisable, yet different enough to keep the wrinkles away. Both lull the listener into a false sense of security with echoey vocals and lush textures, underpinned by dark metaphors in the lyrics ("a low-flying panic attack" in the first, and "we are just happy to serve" in the second). Their growing loops and acoustic-ish sounds — their source is difficult to determine in this first release-compressed form. But that's ok too. Santa and the Tooth Fairy have always required a leap of faith as well.

Guitar brings in Desert Island Disk, with a hint of an accordion-like breath holding it up. The slow in and out stays as the rest swells, Yorke's vocals delivered in almost a monotone until a brushy drum break is added. "You know what I mean," he sings, frailly. Well, do you? I'm not sure I do, but damn I'm enjoying the journey. This one will be the track to play your friends who 'never really got Radiohead and don't really think much of the singles they've heard'. It won't necessarily convert them, but it will be fun watching them try to work it out.

Ful Stop, Identikit and Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor Rich Man Poor Man Beggar Man Thief each warble into existence like lost tracks from a sci-fi soundtrack. This first with a typo (for affect?), the last with a reference to the nursery rhyme that never quite resolves — all are wonderful additions for Kid A and King Of Limbs lovers. That is what it is. No judgment. Power to you. Plus, Identikit features a wonderful (and perhaps hilarious) reference to 'making it rain'. Is it meant to be funny? Are they really the whitest people in the world or do they get it? Do I get it? Is it just a line of nonsense and it's already being taken too seriously? If you're still reading and listening, you no doubt already think you know the answer.

At the other extreme, Glass Eyes, Present Tense and True Love Waits are for those that loved The Bends and OK Computer. They're more conventional (read: accessible, mainstream)— each use a reasonably recognisable ballad form, complete with plump strings and a classic cracked Yorke vocal. These songs are lovely, and that's extremely high stakes. Cock up this type of tune and you've become Rod Stewart sings The Great American Songbook. But they get there — using the force for good rather than evil. Fuck they're lovely.

Somewhere between the two extremes are The Numbers and Decks Dark. Both are catchy and also (John) Cagey, complete with what sounds like a lost plastic recorder to begin and more swelly strings, and a chorus to bring it on home for the first, while a choir fills in and lifts the second. By the second verse on Decks Dark a beat enters, countering the beat and underpinning the whole mess. Enter a single strum of an electric guitar and the tinkly piano again. These tracks are stocking fillers that you're not sure about just yet — they might be discarded by 10 January, or indispensable when you're looking for a little inspiration in August.

So, what have we learned (and what else do we get)?

There's no doubting now that The Album As An Event is back. We've had the 'album as a surprise' and 'album as stunt' moments, but now we're really back to albums as solid attempts to connect with fans, playing on their energy and rewarding their patience. It was actually Adele who nailed the connection when she talked to Time Magazine last December, saying "For me, all albums that come out, I'm excited about leading up to release day." In the same interview she also talked about the importance of buying music to keep rather than streaming, calling the later "a bit disposable".

If you're about to diss the mere concept of any possible Adele and Radiohead connection, her last comment does seem to have struck a chord with them. Following their slow release of singles over a couple of days to build anticipation, just enough to get us interested but not long enough to stretch the friendship, the full thing can now be heard in a variety of formats, including the ideological disposal medium of streaming, as well as a literally disposal format - a special edition which includes "a piece of a Radiohead ½-inch master tape from an actual recording session". They explain on their website, "The tape degrades over time and becomes unplayable. We thought rather than it ending up as landfill we would cut it up and make it useful as a part of the special edition. A new life for some obsolete technology." They do also make clear, however, that the piece itself may literally be unremarkable ("You may have silence, you may have coloured leader tape, you may have a chorus... It's a crapshoot.").

So, whatever a crapshoot is, darlings, enjoy it. Or don't. Pay what you want.