Final Rating: 8.5/10
Remember that surprise release Songs of Innocence? I doubt many will forget that unexpected album anytime soon, and it’s now especially relevant (also for the wrong reasons) now that we have another release that appeared out of the blue. This time, though, the release was much more calculated, respectful and even worthwhile. This is the new Thom Yorke album Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes, which was put online through a download client for six dollars. Yorke, like the folks at U2 and Apple, was trying to find a way to release an album that would help solve music piracy. With the extensive release of this new album, I don’t know if piracy will come crashing to a halt, but Yorke has successfully found a way to avoid the record labels once again, and with an album that’s actually worth a damn, you can easily justify tossing over six dollars (to a destination you know is good for it) for Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes. With a few days of cryptic build up, ranging from Radiohead’s PolyFauna app to messages from Yorke himself (including photos of a mysterious white record), many people prophesied the eventual return of Radiohead. They did return – to the studio. However, we didn’t just get a shrug in return (“oh it’s just Thom Yorke”, for instance), as we were still pleased to see new music from someone who at least always tries. So, how did he do this time around?
Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes is as peculiar of a paradox as it’s name. It’s as progressive as it is stuck in place. An example of this is with the song Interference. Interference has sounds that are rapidly trying to break free but are tethered to the center of the song by a piano melody and Yorke’s vocals. Are these songs trying to be inventive, or are they just altering that of which we already know? It’s never entirely sure of what it wants to do, but that doesn’t mean it’s a failure by any means. Every song here is worth a listen, and I don’t mean that because they are missed attempts that still gave them their all. Every song here is legitimately good. Whether or not you will always feel like these songs is another story. Take some of Radiohead’s best work, like In Rainbows or Kid A, where you will always find something easy to connect to once the album finds a place in your heart. King of Limbs, on the other hand, is far from a bad album. It just isn’t an album that always lets you into its home, though. While Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes is far from being this unwelcoming (and is anything but abrasive), it is monochromatic enough to maybe not always be your best friend. When you are in the mood for this album, it will be highly rewarding. However, will you always be in the mood for a grey perspective of the world?
Yorke shows a bit of his passions on this album. You can find a lot of Burial within The Mother Lode, of whom Yorke has worked with in the past, just by the rolling drum loops alone. Unlike Burial’s work, which retains its accessibility despite its unorthodoxy, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes won’t be as it appears on first listen. There is a lot to discover here on an album that may appear to be just a pretty good release initially. If anything, the album becomes impossible to ignore the more you listen to it. It’s peculiar because of how appropriate the album name becomes. You’d expect an album that develops into such a riveting search into your inner soul to be playing in your head for days, but for me it didn’t do as much. It gets self contained within this titular box, one of which paints an eerie picture of today’s society, and it awaits its chance to be reopened tomorrow. You open Pandora’s Box again, and you remember why you felt the subconscious need to put the album on again, but the album only stays with you deep in your psyche. You won’t be singing most of the album on the way to work from memory alone (except for the addicting vocal lines in Truth Ray, maybe).
Is this album breaking any ground drastically? No. There isn’t an instant sense of invention here like you would have with previous Yorke related albums. Yet, there’s something magical with Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes. The way it was promoted, the way it was released and the way it sits in its own packaged container until opened. This is an audial rendition of a future appliance; Perhaps something like the operating system from Her. It’s advertised and ready to purchase immediately, ready for personal use as soon as it is received and it sits still until its owner returns to it. This is the possible future of music appreciation, not innovation. Whether or not that is a good or bad point is up to you. It may not even be a real prediction, but just an interpretation.
There is quite a bit to compare with this release and Songs of Innocence, especially with how the more mechanical and alien release is somehow the far more friendly one. If Songs of Innocence is the student president that wanted you to know why he made the football team and was valedictorian, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes was the kid who sat in the corner that you found something more substantial with. The merging of the three songs There Is No Ice (For My Drink), Pink Section and Nose Grow Some alone is emotional enough to warrant your time devoted to this album. I give this release a high rating not because I expect it to be banging on the door of your mind anytime soon but because your minutes with it will almost always feel well spent (after the first one or two listens to get to know it, of course). As usual, it’s always worth a listen when anyone from Radiohead is involved (simply because they almost always get it even partially right), and Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes is far from the most stellar Radiohead-related album. Yet this is a release that may still even so need some time to grow. Maybe it isn’t the amount of listens that determine its readiness. Maybe it’s time itself. For now, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes won’t be everyone’s favorite, but it’s quite a damn appreciative misfit friend you can make for just the price of six dollars, and that is something to take into serious consideration.
