Just days ago, I found myself at The Town Hall in New York, immersed in an interview with the visual maestro Ai Weiwei, delving into the depths of his latest memoir, 'Zodiac.' In the discourse, he asserted that 'art is about losing control,' dismissing the notion that correctness defines artistic expression. Correctness, he contends, is the domain of machines, particularly formidable AI, which masters the craft by replicating and remixing already perfected works from other artists and writers.

I believe he is right. Anyone who has experienced the dullness of AI “art”, anyone constantly disappointed by not finding music and art that isn't 'exactly the same as the rest,' will immediately understand that 'correctness' is tedious.

An artist is meant to defy norms, to unveil the unexpected, or if not explicitly meant to do so, it's certainly not interesting if they don't.

All artists are poets; let's remember that a metaphor is a combination of two elements that are not supposed to be together. If we eliminate those inconsistencies, if we eliminate the metaphor, if we 'correct it,' the poem will become a boring, straightforward writing.

But, I believe, this perspective of correctness extends beyond the definitive elements of art; it's also about embracing imperfection. While making a mistake as a doctor can potentially harm somebody, committing a mistake in art is not just that nobody will die; an imperfection can add unexpected beauty to your artwork. 

This sentiment resonates, infiltrating the psyche of even the most perfectionist musicians. An example lies in 'The Smile,' a project that emerged from the minds of Greenwood and Yorke, born out of Yorke's weariness with the relentless pursuit of perfection in his Radiohead productions. Greenwood, on the other hand, craved experimentation, a desire to 'play some wrong notes,' fostering an environment less tethered to Yorke's calculative tendencies.

The result is less wild than one might imagine, but it certainly sounds different. It feels more relaxed yet still melancholic, occasionally showcasing the familiar orchestration and harmonies we are accustomed to. However, the guitar often serves as an intriguing disruptor. 

Let's delve deeper into this aspect specifically with 'Wall of Eyes.' The guitar presents sharp arpeggios with a raw flavor, reminiscent of 'Under the Pillows.' 'Bending Hectic' plays with the tuning of one of the guitar's strings, creating an interesting 'going up, going down' effect. In 'The Room,' the guitar starts off angry and sour, but then there is an orchestration change, transitioning to a sweet acoustic steel guitar playing a charming arpeggio. This strongly recalls how Antony Phillips adeptly manages instrumentation and mood changes using his beautiful language on the acoustic guitar.

Yorke's evolution within this musical endeavor remains enigmatic. While the experimental prowess of Greenwood and the foray into uncomfortable territories contribute to the group's transformation, Yorke, at his core, employs familiar musical strategies. It's not a detriment; in fact, it caters specifically to melancholics anticipating derivatives from the Radiohead's canon.

For example, 'Teleharmonic' embodies the 'Yorke' essence, yet its composition draws inspiration from the eclectic sounds of the UK art-pop scene, resembling a cleaner, less chaotic version of an Animal Collective record.

The lyricism, a testament to Yorke's prowess, beckons a deeper exploration. However, fellow reviewers already have adeptly dissected this facet, with some dedicating exclusive attention to its nuances. 

'The Smile' offers a musical journey that diverges from the norm, characterized by Greenwood's experimental inclinations and a relentless commitment to pushing the boundaries. It's a departure, yet anchored in the familiar.

This record is suitable for everyone, whether you're a pop or rock listener, not just for Radiohead fans. Please give 'The Smile' a try!

Author: Martín Cacho

Martín is a video game composer, producer and writer from Sonora, México.