I would have liked to begin these reflections with a sound, the first that reaches us from this work. An unfinished sound, a sound from the past, stolen from some treasure of the Radiohead or, more precisely, of Jonny Greenwood. It certainly cannot be called betrayal a record that draws inspiration from the betrayed.
"The Eliminator" whispers its voice, but it's only the beginning. Soon that voice becomes unreachable, ungraspable. All the music seems to chase it. Many are the sounds that try to reach it. There's no track that can do without it. We cannot do without it. The nine chapters of this work unfold between minimal electronics and barely hinted instruments. The danger of encountering the threatening figures that appear on the display to indicate the passing time and the tracks that rush by is far away.
One slips inevitably into the last episode of a perhaps complicated tale, but a tale that, like all, must disguise reality and must leave a mark. The music has regained control. Now it is she who sets the pace. Now it is Thom who lets himself be carried away. And we too let ourselves be carried away.
"No more conversation, No more conversation". Now the music can go on.
"The Eraser" has completed its mission. It has erased our thoughts. We are overwhelmed by emotions. We have escaped from this planet.
I address those who have already listened to the record: just try to imagine if the author had not published it. Try to think of these notes forgotten in some computer destined to be formatted, destined to scatter who knows where and forever the fragments of a perfect mosaic.
I address the author: Dear Thom, "I can see you, but I can never reach you".
"Thom Yorke's voice becomes a sort of musical Charon ferrying souls toward the sublimation of the senses."
"Tracks like 'Black Swan' enter your veins and immediately provoke cerebral addiction, making you return listen after listen."
In the chorus, we can hear a group of angels accompanying Thom’s light and subtle singing.
'And It Rained All Night' is an aggressive piece, direct like a punch to the stomach.
The change post-Ok Computer was almost entirely in his mind, so much so that it feels like watching a kind of Kid A\Amnesiac under anesthesia.
I found this album monotonous and lacking in bite, with some nice melodies that, however, should be exploited by the other band members.
The coordinates of 'The Eraser' remain in the realm of the more electronic side of Radiohead, while winking at the smudged melodies of Notwist.
Take the transgenic blues of And It Rained All Night and you’ll feel true emotion, a compelling rhythm, and an atmosphere at once dreamy, tormented, and ready to fight for the future.
With "The Eraser" he becomes visionary and whispering, and the architectures of collaboration disappear.
All his power lies in tenderness and imagination.