Some writers and fans have taken to calling this album Kid B, the (obvious) implication that it's the companion piece to Radiohead's masterpiece of electronic rock. And while The Eraser does compare favorably to that work, it's no longer ahead of its time, just simply of its time. We can't all be visionaries all the time, however, and it's understandable that Yorke wants to play with his computer more than he gets to with his rock and roll band. Looped bubbly bloops, sleight drones, and curious bleeps complement Yorke's distinctive vocals throughout. The album at times sounds like demo versions, as if they were an update of the way Pete Townshend used to do solo versions of all his songs for the Who. It's tough not to expect the rest of the band to come in and "complete" a particular song. But once you get used to the fact that this isn't going to happen, the album reveals itself as a delightful, occasionally brave work that's as playful as it is melancholic.