The album is 37 minutes during which Radiohead showcases its evolution as a band that has long been the sum of all its parts, a collection of musicians able to exercise restraint in producing an album where no single instrument dominates.

For those who have seen the video to Lotus Flower, Yorke’s spastic flailing is in sharp contrast to the reserve employed throughout Limbs. The idiosyncrasies that have come to be the band’s trademark are still there; the irregular timing, Yorke’s haunting falsetto, ambient sounds providing perfect segues from one song into another, and so much more.

Though Limbs doesn’t reach the level of excellence Radiohead displayed in OK Computer, it’s certainly a moving album, and it manipulates the listener from beginning to end.

The opening track, Bloom, dares you to expect a crescendo which remains elusive, but keep listening and you’ll realise that the peaks aren’t an element of a single song, rather they’re a part of the emotional journey taken throughout the album. As Bloom goes into Morning Mr. Magpie, and onwards into Feral, the beats and percussion laid down keep elevating the mood and tempo of Limbs, but still Yorke’s voice keeps holding back the feeling of elevation you might otherwise feel. In doing so, he makes this an album that inspires you to really think about the music laid out, typical of Radiohead’s cerebral brand of rock. Indeed, in contrast to the restraint employed by the rest of the band, Thom Yorke’s vocals are more visceral, his voice the true driver of this musical journey.

The first half of this brief album is definitely an experiment in human emotions, keeping listeners engaged, while the second half has a decidedly more melancholy flavour. Nowhere is the melancholy more distinct than in Codex, driven by the haunting tones of Yorke’s piano, and the orchestral arrangements. This segues into Give up the Ghost, where Jonny Greenwood finally allows his guitar playing to be distinct, though still minimalist.

By this point on Limbs, Yorke’s melodies have become as close to crying as the vocal instrument will allow. Separator comes in like a curve ball, an unexpected groove that’s uplifting, and almost optimistic. A great note on which to wrap up the album.

The King of Limbs evokes the kind of listening experience one tends to associate with Portishead, and at times even The Flaming Lips. Though to say it’s experimental would be wrong, as every note and melody is deliberate, as much so as the layout of tracks over the album.

Nevertheless, the album does have a dream-like quality which Radiohead perfected during the recording of In Rainbows. It’s echoey, vivid, and always thought-provoking. Sticking with producer Nigel Godrich has benefited the band well, providing a collaborative cohesion which can only come from a musical relationship cemented over multiple albums.

As a follow up to In Rainbows, and even standing on its own, The King of Limbs is a fine piece of musical work by a band which has broken past the barriers of what we typically define as music. After a three year hiatus, Radiohead has made the wait worthwhile. Asad Khwaja hosts Moonlight Mile on CityFM89 every Thursday, 10:30pm to Midnight