Barnes & Noble
Laser show operators, rejoice: This generation's weightiest purveyors of prog-pop have returned to action -- and rest assured, they haven't moved an inch closer to the middle of the road on this outing. If anything, Thom Yorke and company seem intent on seeing how far they can push the envelope -- a tone that's set with the paranoiac, piano-driven opener "Everything in Its Right Place." The undulating layers of sound that swell through that song give way to the title cut's dizzying thicket of chattering voices, which in turn drift into a noisy reed duel that dominates "The National Anthem" (most assuredly not the tune you hear before sporting events). Although not as conceptually unified as OK Computer, Kid A is every bit as distanced from standard rock structure. This time around, the band have shed even more of their guitar orientation, replacing Jonny Greenwood's angular riffs with equally bristly piano lines and dense rhythm beds that split the difference between the tribal and the industrial. The decision to treat Yorke's voice as just another element in the instrumental mix is an interesting one, albeit one that makes it difficult to discern precisely what it is he's going on about in some songs. There's no mistaking the mood, however: Virtually every song is clad in dark hues, minor chords, and oppressive rhythms. On occasion, that bubbles over into wild-eyed aggression, as on the deceptively titled "Optimistic," but there are far more whispers than cries in the grooves of these ten songs. While it's not the easiest album in the world to get inside, Kid A's obsessiveness and complexity make it even more difficult to escape once you've found a way in. David Sprague
All Music Guide
Instead of simply adding club beats or sonic collage techniques, Radiohead strive to incorporate the unsettling "intelligent techno" sound of Autechre and Aphex Twin, characterized by its skittering beats and stylishly dark sonic surfaces, for Kid A. To their immense credit, Radiohead don't sound like carpetbaggers, because they share the same post-postmodern vantage point as their inspirations. As a result, Kid A is easily the most successful electronica album from a rock band -- it doesn't even sound like a rock band, even if it does sound like Radiohead. So, Kid A is an unqualified success? Well, not quite. Despite its admirable ambition, Kid A is never as visionary or stunning as OK Computer, nor does it really repay the time it demands. OK Computer required many plays before revealing the intricacies of its densely layered mix; here, multiple plays are necessary to discern the music's form, to get a handle on quiet, drifting, minimally arranged songs with no hooks. Of course, the natural reaction of any serious record geek is that if the music demands so much work, it must be worth it -- and at times, that supposition is true. But Kid A's challenge doesn't always live up to its end of the bargain. It's self-consciously alienating and difficult, and while that can be intriguing, it seems deeper than it actually is. Repeated plays dissipate the mystique and reveal a number of rather drab songs (primarily during the second half), where there isn't enough under the surface to make Radiohead's relentless experimentation satisfying. But mixed results are still results, and about half of the songs positively shimmer with genius. Stephen Thomas Erlewine
Rolling Stone
...a clear-eyed space opera about a plausible future a generation raised
like plant life. And inside the hermetic electronics and art-pop frost is a
heated argument about conformity, individuality and the messy consequences
of playing God.
David Fricke
Entertainment Weekly
As unnervingly cryptic as Kid A can be, it is a genuinely challenging
work in a generally unchallenging time. It’s the Ralph Nader of pop. David Browne