In tackling Amok, let’s start with a few key considerations:
1. While it’s difficult to view the man responsible for Kid A and OK Computer as anything other than a trailblazing mastermind, one must give Thom Yorke the benefit of the doubt from time to time. For along with his ridiculously forward-thinking creativity come ridiculously high expectations. And while it’s valid to critique a Yorke release for lacking innovation, it’s not valid to dismiss it entirely.
2. Direct comparisons to Yorke’s day job (I can’t remember its name) are a bit off base, as the whole impetus behind Amok was for Yorke to distance himself from Radiohead’s boundaries.
So… is Amok a good album? Yeah. Is Amok a groundbreaking piece of art rock, broadcasted to your yearning earholes from another universe à la Kid A? Not quite.
“Before Your Very Eyes,” Amok‘s slow-moving albeit grooving opener, sets a nearly spot-on example of what’s to follow — a collection of insular, robotic grooves and melodies with predictably impenetrable lyrics. I’ll admit that on first listen I was a bit underwhelmed by “Before Your Very Eyes,” but then it occurred to me that I was wrongly approaching things like a Radiohead album. Analyzing every chord change and lyric will lead to little reward here, as Amok is a primarily rhythmic album, one meant to be felt, not deciphered. The album definitely lends itself to a few listens; by about round three, the rhythmic subtleties become apparent and, serendipitously, you might even catch a lyric or two.
The top moments on Amok are when Atoms for Peace actually sound like a band, rather than Thom in a dark basement with his computer. “Stuck Together Pieces,” the best song on the album, combines everyone’s strengths for a powerhouse of a track: Flea’s winding bass, Yorke’s ethereal paranoia, Nigel Godrich’s spacious production vibe, and Mauro Refresco’s and Joey Waronker’s worldly percussion. The moments like these, with a more organic energy, are undoubtedly the most affecting on the album. From the grinding tension of “Judge, Jury and Executioner” to the freakout groove on “Unless,” it’s easy to hear the inherent synergy in Atoms for Peace, but this greatness is sometimes reduced to a lifeless computer pulse (see “Dropped” or “Ingenue”).
Herein lies Amok‘s most inscrutable contradiction: considering Yorke’s desire to free himself from Radiohead’s bounds, and considering his ridiculously dynamic, expert group of performers, why does he limit their capabilities with a computer? I truly think Atoms for Peace are the start of something fantastic, but I think they’ve yet to work out the man versus machine conflict to their fullest advantage. While the majority of Amok is an immersive listen full of sharp grooves and warm melodies, a few tracks struggle to blend their contrasting ingredients.
Amok