The path of a modern musician often involves testing boundaries, stepping away from a familiar safe zone, and chasing fresh sand in new corners of sound. Yet in the case of Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood, the core remains intact even as they explore a different landscape. Their side project with the renowned jazz drummer Tom Skinner, known for his work with Sons of Kemet, is billed as The Smile. It isn’t just a side gig; it feels like a continued dialogue with Radiohead’s restless spirit, a project that still breathes through the same artistic lungs even as it wanders into more experimental air. The band’s work is marked by free-flowing textures, guitars that are muted to a delicate hum, rhythms that snap and shift with a dancer’s precision, and dystopian synths that underscore a mood similar to the iconic first era of Radiohead’s most challenging records. It’s easy to sense a kinship to Kid A, the monument that once shifted anticipation and definition in pop and art rock alike.
From the outset, The Smile leans into the shadows of contemporary life, probing the hidden powers that shape daily experience. Tracks drift and pulse with an edgy sophistication, presenting listeners with enigmatic grooves and a fearless curiosity about what lies beneath the surface. Songs like Thin Thing push the band toward a livelier edge, while moments inspired by 1970s German experimental rock reveal a more abrasive, cubist approach to guitar texture. A track such as Reverse showcases a serrated guitar riff that feels almost sculptural, inviting a close, almost tactile listening experience. The emotional range broadens with messages that feel both intimate and accusatory, including lines that hint at a critique of media culture and the way fame can intersect with power. Yet not every piece lands with the same impact; certain songs travel into more abstract or exploratory territory, sometimes seeming to drift without a clear destination. Still, when The Smile lands a strong moment, that tension—between danger and allure, between restraint and release—remains palpable and convincing, making the project feel like a contest or a companion to Radiohead’s boundary-pushing impulse rather than a mere sidestep. The broader takeaway is that the collaboration carries a weight of expectation, and that weight is acknowledged—and sometimes resisted—by individuals who have long been associated with a band that redefined possibility in popular music. It’s not surprising that some listeners read the project as a test to Radiohead’s core identity, poking at how the members who aren’t involved in The Smile might feel rivaled or unsettled by this new, confident presence. The result is a listening experience that rewards patience and attention, offering a fresh, sometimes unsettling perspective on what these artists can do when they step in new directions while keeping one foot in the world that made them famous. The Smile, in short, feels like a deliberate conversation about shadow and light in modern sound, a sonic inquiry that refuses to settle for easy conclusions and invites fans to hear how the past can echo through newly assembled chords and tempos. [Source: industry reviews and artist interviews]