THOM YORKE
The Eraser XL
****

"We operate like the UN," Thom Yorke once said of Radiohead. "And I'm America." The Eraser, Yorke's first solo record, must count as a unilateral action then, unconstrained by his bandmates' power of veto. You'll have already guessed Yorke's direction; his fascination with the cyclical movements, detuned synths and discomfiting glitches of electronica has been spelled out from Kid A onwards. No surprises, then, that there's No Surprises here. What is unexpected, though, is just how well it works, Yorke bringing political mettle and emotional heft to his hardware.

Now an independent artist (Radiohead are an unsigned band again), Yorke assembled these nine songs during the group's downtime and, though less textured, it's not a world away from the day job. The eponymous opener, built from a grainy piano sample courtesy of Jonny Greenwood, leads to a swirl of mumbles and moans. Yorke's lyrics can be opaque (hey, what were you expecting?), but, at producer Nigel Goldrich's insistence, his voice is a pure thread through ragged sequencing.

Electronica is essentially the paranoiac's disco - the robots may have taken over, but at least they're programmed to dance - and Yorke works best within that dark groove. Analyse, Black Swan and Skip Divided are compulsive standouts. But it's Harrowdown Hill, which directly addresses the death of weapons expert Dr David Kelly, that stretches into the extraordinary. A plodding guitar loop, a cluster of beats, and a lament to the cost of war, it leaves Yorke sounding subdued and defeated - but the beats never give up. It's a haunting sound, and one of the year's best: the ghost in the machine. www.theeraser.net