Radiohead's Slow Burn Engrossing Through and Through

Radiohead hasn't obtained industry longevity pandering to the low brow. Nope, strictly for adult audiences, my friends. 30 plus years on these gents have maintained their artistic know-how. Thom Yorke haunting voice can accept most credit for that but, as a unit Radiohead can turn out some impressive expression. New on the horizon we get "A Moon Shaped Pool". First from said project comes "Burn The Witch", an odyssey of listener catnip combining stately classic rock affectations with straight up rock explosions. You get a lot dropped next to your dinner fork at a reasonable price. Chords bend and morph and twist and shake. Much like the titular witch would if she knew she were about to be boiled in oil. I'm thrilled to see major and minor chords playing nicely with each other. The video which has fallen into breach of copyright messiness (don't let that spoil the good time you'll no doubt have in perusal mode) works as perfect accompaniment. "Burn The Witch" has meat on its bones and the video is similarly well endowed. Pack plenty of protein shakes because you'll need to keep your strength up both intellectually and physiologically. For openers the beat strikes s gentle pose for the camera. That friendly grin gains effective traction as the song progresses. Rhythms increase in complexity. The plot line weaves itself into a defiantly tight little ball. Resistance would appear futile. Then again, with Thom Yorke at the helm, at least you're part of a cinematic cruise in which lasting impressions are a sure bet. Jonny Greenwood's lead guitar sorcery leads through whatever lyrical thicket Thom may have unknowingly tossed us into. Meanwhile Phil Selway politely taps out a drum segment underscoring the delicate turn of events the video hints at. They had me at the chirping bird bit but "Burn The Witch" seeks to be as generous as studio time allows. Thom's no slouch in treating us to richly prepared poetry as I aim to demonstrate post haste. "This is a low flying panic attack" hits me where I live because I know the horror a panic attack wraps its victims up in. You'd think Thom might follow such ghastly confession with something equally dispiriting but no. How about "Sing a song on the jukebox that goes burn the witch, burn the witch, we know where you live." Jukeboxes summon up serene thoughts anyway. During the second shuffle around the chorus line that jukebox gets replaced with song of sixpence classic nursery rhyme etchings. I give the video five stars even if Radiohead can't really say it came up with the concept first. It blends with the heavy tones nicely. Besides what's wrong with some animated distraction. We're talking visual engagement to make you wistful for Rudolph style stop action wholesomeness. Thom lets his voice run off into deep space and, if it manages to come back down where he requested, well, that's gravy on an already clean plate club worthy slab of steak. "Burn The Witch" blazes a welcome trail that stands up nicely alongside other Radiohead flights of fancy.