Over the last decade Oxford, England five-piece Radiohead has emerged from the flock of just-a-little-bit-edgy Brit-pop bands that have dominated England's airwaves and music press over the last decade, as the most innovative band that country has produced in a generation. Amazingly, the band was initially pegged as a one-hit-wonder after fading from view in the wake of the international success of their first single, the memorably angst-ridden "Creep." While their first album, 1993's Pablo Honey, did go gold, for the most part critics dismissed Radiohead's music as a recapitulation of the U.S. guitar-driven indie rock sound pioneered by The Pixies and Nirvana.

By contrast, Radiohead's second album, 1995's The Bends, a sweeping epic masterpiece which further developed the swirling three-guitar attack first heard on Pablo Honey, was greeted with overwhelming admiration from critics and fellow musicians -- but it was a commercial failure. It wasn't until their brilliant 1997 effort, the technophobic, intricately textured, intensely cerebral OK Computer, that the band received both critical accolades and big record sales. Like The Bends, OK Computer represented another huge step forward for the band, which for the most part distanced itself from its previous guitar-rock sound, choosing instead to craft subtler, less conventionally rock-oriented songs, replete with keyboards, electronic textures, samples, and odd tempos. While not quite a concept album, OK Computer was one of the most successful records of the '90s at creating a unique, distinctive atmosphere -- one that was tensely millennial, full of the pathos and passion of an unknown and alarming future. The record firmly established Radiohead as one of the most innovative bands in rock music today and one of those rare bands -- like The Beatles -- who can be daring and unorthodox while still connecting with a wide audience.

Kid A, Radiohead's first album of the new millennium, represents yet another giant step forward for a band that has made a career out of defying expectations. There's not much that hasn't already been said of the most talked-about record of 2000 and perhaps the last few years. It still sounds like Radiohead -- how could anyone mistake Thom Yorke's ethereal yowl? -- but it's not rock. Kid A's constantly skittering, unsettling beats, funk-inspired bass lines, and drifting ambient textures were about as far away as they could possibly get from the angstful rock of Pablo Honey. They'd started out sounding like U2 and now they sounded more like Aphex Twin. At this point, however, Radiohead sounds undeniably like Radiohead and nothing else, so much so it seems that new bands today are compared to Radiohead more often than to any other band or artist.

The ever restless group returned in 2001 with another dazzling album, Amnesiac. The IDM clicks and chirps of their previous release are still there, but unlike the nebulous compositions of Kid A, these have some degree of structure. And less postmodern, postindustrial anguish. There's a sense of resignation here, but also a feeling of vast, sweeping, boundless beauty, the result, in part, of some truly wonderful orchestral arrangements featuring piano, strings, horns, and more. Listen to the hypnotic swells of "Pyramid Song," the album's second track, to see for yourself.

Advance billing of Radiohead's sixth album, Hail to the Thief suggested that it would be a "pop" album, though as with all things Radiohead, you had to take that description with a grain of salt. Well, certainly the guitars are back, and sound more or less the way you might expect guitars to sound, and there are some nods to more traditional songwriting, of the sort the band employed during the Bends days. There's plenty of experimentation to be found here too though, including several songs that revisit the sinister, floating brand of dark instrumental ambience the band played with so much on Kid A. The title of the album is a reference to George Bush's Supreme Court-assisted presidential victory and while there's plenty of the paranoia and alienation which has always been a big part of Radiohead's musical identity, it doesn't stifle the record, which also offers balladry and devilish, waltzing joy in the endless possibilites of sound. Thom Yorke said lately that the band would make no more albums, only singles, and while you should probably take that with a grain of salt too, treasure this one; you never know if it might be the last.