There is a time, after you've put in maximum effort for a very long period, much of it seemingly invisible to those it is devoted to, that you weaken momentarily, allow yourself to see others mailing it in and congratulating themselves, and despair.

And in that time, maybe just for a short time, you feel like giving up the ghost.

And maybe that's what our pal Thom Yorke was all bummed about this time around in this song.

Thom Yorke is a dour guy. Some people call him a pessimist. People who have not raised a finger beyond their touch screens to bring anything wonderful into this world, calling Thom Yorke pessimistic. A world full of optimists. Some people confuse optimism with vapidity. There is plenty of writing on this subject that most people avoid.

Fortunately, regardless of the shape he's rendered, the caricature he's painted to be, as long as he's allowed, Thom will wake up and keep working hard, writing songs like this: With its angelic, bountiful, optimistic climax, with its warbling strings echoing a wonderful vocal melody that shimmers down like a waterfall.