Release Date: October 4, 2024
The Smile’s Cutouts—the third album in what seems like a relentless barrage of side projects from the collective genius of Yorke and Greenwood. While some hail it as their most dynamic work since In Rainbows—and yes, there are fleeting moments of brilliance, particularly in the intricate guitar work of Eyes & Mouth and the ethereal strings of Tiptoe—it still suffers from the affliction that’s plagued them since A Light for Attracting Attention: too much jamming, not enough substance.
Take Foreign Spies, for example. While it opens the album with atmospheric potential, Yorke’s vocals sound oddly strained, bordering on autotuned at moments, a far cry from the pristine falsettos of his earlier work. Fans swoon over Zero Sum and The Slip, praising the tight drumming and groovy energy, but one wonders: is this truly groundbreaking, or just another collection of glorified jams repackaged as high art?
Ah, and Instant Psalm—hailed by some as "well-produced" and "Amnesiac-esque," but ultimately, it falls short of its own ambitions. The strings, while lovely, feel like they’ve wandered in from a Studio Ghibli soundtrack, not quite integrated into the album’s broader sonic landscape.
Yet amidst these criticisms, there’s no denying the visceral power of Bodies Laughing, a rare moment where The Smile manages to balance energy and cohesion, delivering something truly memorable. But overall, Cutouts feels less like a cohesive album and more like a series of half-finished ideas, meandering as Yorke and Greenwood figure out what they’re trying to say. For fans of Yorke’s falsetto and Greenwood’s dexterous guitar work, there’s enough to enjoy. But for those hoping for a fully realized masterpiece, this album doesn’t quite deliver. And for the album art—a visual metaphor wrapped in a cosmic haze of abstraction, isn’t it? What we have here is a pastoral scene drenched in deep purples and eerie greens, as if someone decided to paint the apocalypse with acrylics. The rising (or setting?) orange sun speaks of some impending, unknowable doom. It’s bleak yet somehow meditative, much like the album itself—suggesting isolation, nature’s collapse, and existential detachment, all bathed in radioactive hues.
So, in conclusion, Cutouts is a curious mixture—sometimes enthralling, often undercooked, and ultimately leaving one feeling that The Smile still hasn’t quite stepped out from Radiohead’s looming shadow. Is it enjoyable? Sure. Is it essential? Hardly.
Score: 7.3/10 - NPS