Subtle and sophisticated, Radiohead are no longer a band that go for the big punches. Indeed, for most of their career they have been trying to live down what was surely one of the best arena rock songs of the 90s. Undoubtedly, they could produce more such songs if they were so inclined – Thom Yorke has shown as recently as Eraser that he is still more than capable of writing memorable melodies on tracks like ‘Black Swan’ and ‘Harrowdown Hill.’ Yet on In Rainbows it is almost like Radiohead have moved beyond melody, as if it were a less evolved form of music – the past and not the future. The album’s genius therefore lies not in old conceptions of tunefulness, though it does possess its own magnetism, but instead in structure and arrangement. 

More than any other word, “deceptive” describes the sounds of In Rainbows. Radiohead’s music is clouded by shadows – they are a smoke and mirrors band. Like magicians they refuse to reveal the secret of their tricks. In Rainbows is all prestige. It doesn’t make sense and can’t be explained but it works nonetheless. Elusiveness is becoming the bands trademark. Radiohead may contain hints of other artists on some songs, but overall they produce an intangible atmosphere that is all there own.

For instance ‘Faust Arp’ may first appear like some sort of White Album number, but there is far more to it than that. Yorke’s alien, mathematical phrasing contrasts powerfully with the songs ethereal guitar and string section, generating an unsettling energy which belies its gentle strumming. ‘Reckoner’, probably the most stunningly beautiful tack on the album, sounds uncannily like Justin Timberlake. Yorke croons over Selway’s echo chamber drums his own version of ‘My Love’ – “You were not to blame for bittersweet distracters”. But it is unlike any song that JT will likely ever sing, containing an eeriness that is uniquely Yorke and somehow managing to sound both sparse and dense at the same time, a feature that has long defined Radiohead’s music. There is so much going on in this song that it is difficult to take it all in, an instrument starts for a second then vanishes, a musical countermelody chimes in then morphs into something else before you even realized it was there.

In Rainbows lacks the pretentiousness of prog rock, but its attention to detail is astounding. It is such a natural sound for Radiohead, they’re not putting anything on – it’s just the logical product of a visionary band, a tidal swell of majesty, power and talent that cannot be contained. Nor should it.

In Greenwood and Selway Radiohead possess two of the most considered musicians in the indie world, and along with Yorke it is an embarrassment of riches. Selway in particular shines on the menacing ‘All I Need’. Yorke sings his words of desire over lonely, brooding fuzzed out bass before the track finally segues into a climax of thundering piano. ‘It’s all wrong”, Yorke moans, as the power and precision of Selway’s drumming threatens to outshine him. Cymbals sheen with brightness, with each strike somehow becoming more alive, like the aural equivalent of mirrors reflecting into one another.

Greenwood rises to prominence on ‘Bodysnatchers’, demonstrating the sort of atmospheric guitar playing that he has developed to a fine art. This song succeeds where Mars Volta and Muse have been failing for years, and along with most of the album, it is an exercise in Radiohead reminding the rest of the indie world who the big guns are, in case there was any doubt. Like so many Radiohead tracks, its beauty lies not in its individual parts but rather in how they transition into and complement one another; this band does not work in verses and choruses, but in movements. After a neurotic, rocking first half, firing like Zeppelin on speed, ‘Bodysnatchers’ moves into a shifting mass of space-rock siren guitars that is vintage Greenwood. Yorke shrieks, “Has the light gone out for you?/Cause the light's gone for me/It is the 21st century/It is the 21st century”, as Greenwood zones in and out, like a television losing reception in the wind; a whales cry amongst ocean spray.

Along with the best new albums of this decade, In Rainbows focuses on the future rather than the past. It’s not a nod to Dylan or The Beatles or The Pixies or anybody else, rather it references bands that don’t exist yet. Their chief inspiration is themselves – not what they have done yesterday, but what they might do tomorrow.