How Radiohead’s “A Moon Shaped Pool” Was Lost to Time
The English art rock band Radiohead released their ninth studio album A Moon Shaped Pool five years after The King of Limbs, their controversial eight-song LP generally considered robotic, incomplete, and (perhaps most offensive) safe. Yet A Moon Shaped Pool soared in comparison to The King of Limbs, debuting at number three on the Billboard 200 chart and earning the tenth spot on Pitchfork’s list of 2016’s top albums (The 50 Best Albums of 2016, 2016). Eight years later, however, A Moon Shaped Pool is rarely mentioned when discussing Radiohead’s finest work, primarily because the album snugly ensconced itself in the disorder and sorrow of 2016 — a time which the world would rather forget.
Sonically, A Moon Shaped Pool is a melancholic daydream in a dystopian world. New York Times writer Jon Pareles appropriately describes it as “an album of nightmare lullabies” (Pareles, 2016), referring to the gloomy piano chords that gently ebb and flow throughout “Daydreaming” and “Glass Eyes.” Even with an acoustic guitar, Radiohead chases the melody of a folksy murder ballad, just with a subdued twang. However, the looming doom of A Moon Shaped Pool is most apparent in the lyrics. The opening song “Burn the Witch” suggests the existence of an Orwellian regime that aims to silence dissidence and guarantee subservience: “Stay in the shadows / Cheer at the gallows / This is a round-up / This is a low-flying panic attack” (Radiohead, 2016). Similarly, “The Numbers” illuminates a disappointing political truth: “The numbers don’t decide / The system is a lie” (Radiohead, 2016). At face value, A Moon Shaped Pool’s conspicuous world building via melody and lyric presents the album as a fictional hellscape, similar to how Muse aimed to create a sci-fi dystopia with their 2018 album Simulation Theory. But paying attention to the time period during which A Moon Shaped Pool was released demonstrates that the album is rooted in reality.
Composed of mass murders, climate change, refugee crises, presidential elections, and Brexit, the year 2016 was marked by political and social discord that many would sooner forget — but Radiohead captured it all. While Radiohead did not produce the entirety of A Moon Shaped Pool in 2016, the album communicates existential threats to humanity characteristic of 2016 hysteria, such as the theme of authoritarianism through “Burn The Witch,” global warming with “The Numbers,” and eternal wanting in “True Love Waits.” The subject matter, coupled with the bands’ continued political involvement with environmental groups and anti-Brexit parties, makes it difficult to deny the political messaging injected into their 2016 album. In fact, Radiohead is no stranger to politically charged artistry, as they have been interested in subversiveness since OK Computer’s critique of consumerist Great Britain (Clément, 2019).
A Moon Shaped Pool remembers the world in its “darkest hour” when we were “trapped ragdoll cloth people […] helpless to resist” (Radiohead, 2016). The album itself may showcase Radiohead at their very best, but its haunting content is evocative of wasteland that is just downright depressing. Thus, it is no surprise that A Moon Shaped Pool has been lost to time. Fortunately, its songs will be there for us as a requiem when the world undoes itself once more.
