Thom Yorke, best known as the front man of Radiohead, has recently taken some time off from his main band to join with longtime producer Nigel Godrich, Red Hot Chili Peppers’ bassist Flea, drummer Joey Waronker and percussionist Mauro Refosco. Together they are Atoms for Peace.
The nature of supergroups such as this one is often fraught, sometimes sounding better on paper than in execution. So much virtuosic talent can lead to an unfocused mess that pales in comparison to the members’ respective main projects. Luckily, that isn’t the case here. While the band’s presence is integral, it serves mostly to bolster Yorke’s songwriting, orbiting his nucleoid presence with utter effectiveness.
The skittering, mind-bending rhythms and menacing synths that are trademark to Yorke’s work with and without Radiohead are still present, and in many ways the songs aren’t much different from Radiohead’s most recent work. The major difference seems to be Yorke himself, who manages to sound less restrained, eager to stretch his musical legs. Yorke has, after all, helmed Radiohead for more than two decades now, and being able to step outside of his main band for some fresh air seems to have done him some good.
Standout “Ingenue” sets the precedent for the album — danceable, full-bodied rock disguised as electronic music with Yorke’s achingly sweet vocals as the cherry on top. The song’s anxious synth riff gives way to Yorke’s gentle falsetto, sounding both plaintive and peaceful. Like a lullaby set to unbelievably disorienting drums, the song seems to recall the slowing of time seconds before an accident.
In all of these songs, there is a fine balance between the cold, machine-like precision and the resonant warmth that emanates from Yorke’s vocals. While everything from Nigel Godrich’s production to Flea’s bass playing are executed exceptionally, it is truly Yorke’s songwriting and vocals that are the story of this album.
Each song works as a part of the whole, as a piece of the electronic tapestry that is “Amok,” and yet there is a wide variety offered. On “Default,” a soulful Yorke belts out one of his more extroverted songs in recent years, nearly evoking vibes of Southern rock. On “Dropped,” an insistent beat slowly builds into a flurry of breakneck rhythms that culminate in one of the more cathartic moments on the album.
On “Stuck Together Pieces,” Yorke sings languidly, “You don’t get away so easily,” sounding like a bemused predator. Aware of the siren-like quality of his songs, Yorke draws the listener in close. Once in reach, these seasoned musicians strike with maximum effect. The listener is left disembodied and absorbed into the music, left to admire the serene wasteland Yorke and company seem to convey so effortlessly.
Daniel Catalanello is a 20-year-old English literature junior from Baton Rouge.
