VINYL FORMAT. Listening to The Eraser, you come to the inescapable conclusion that it's all about the voice. Everything Thom Yorke sings is imbued with a unique brand of melancholy, a kind of hopelessness that should descend into whiny teenage angst but somehow doesn't. Maybe it's the brilliant, distorted lyrics, the closest pop music has come to modern poetry, or perhaps it's the craftsmanship at work here, the sense that everything has been pored over and considered beyond a spat of youthful disdain. It doesn't matter, because it's that voice that does the work here? - Bob Dollop