Thom Yorke sits in a large leather armchair looking like little boy lost. Wearing a baggy denim outfit that makes him look about 12 years old, Yorke is granting interviews today at Radiohead Central in the Oxford burb of Didcott Parkway. The most anguished pop star since Greta Garbo (see Meeting People Is Easy) will happily discuss Radiohead, dreams, electronica, world economic evil, his group's new album Amnesiac, and even his son Noah, but forget the personal angle. After exposing his heart and head to millions with the epic OK Computer, only to make a hasty retreat to sanity with the electronica manifesto Kid A, Yorke has learned how to hang on to his ego. For instance, does Amnesiac's first single and most beautiful track, "Pyramid Song," allude to the afterlife and Yorke's belief in God, Satan, Alan Greenspan, or any of the above?

"No, no, no," he replies. "That is autobiographical, and I won't do that. It doesn't matter at all. The whole point is every time you write a song it is about making a little spell, and answering questions like that will break it."

"Pyramid Song" is Radiohead's finest spell ever, a hypnotic symphony of lush, circling piano chords, swirling Johnny Greenwood-scored strings, and tumbling jazz drumming, with lyrics describing plane crash survivors who "all go to heaven in little rowboats." Mournful mutters of "There were nothing to fear and nothing to doubt" and "all my past and futures" echo through the song like a healing mantra sent from the afterlife.

"It was [written] after a day spent staring at all these weird Egyptian figures," Yorke recalls. "The Egyptians have these rowboats that when they die they go through the Milky Way in. It was based on that and a fusion of experiences that I had dreamed. I really did have that 'all my past and futures' thing happen. Not before my eyes--it was a bit more peculiar than that. The song is very much inspired by the Egyptian stuff and this seriously Loony-Tunes book I read about ancient star charts and where the pyramids are built. I was reading the Tibetan Book Of The Dead too; that is guaranteed to f--k you up."

The video for "Pyramid Song" is equally surreal, depicting our hero diving to the bottom of the ocean and eventually morphing into two stars which soar through the clouds like playful UFOs. Do the stars represent rowboats traveling to heaven?

"They could be," Yorke replies sheepishly. "You have to watch the video a lot, then you'll see a lot of different things. It really freaks you out after a while."

An extension of the innovative Kid A sessions, Amnesiac may disappoint fans pining for The Bends or "Creep, Part 2." But Amnesiac is a minor wish-granter to the fans of guitarists Johnny Greenwood and Ed O'Brien, and is rife with beautiful melodies and whirring electronica. Recorded simultaneously with Kid A, Amnesiac is somehow softer and more inviting. Though the buzzing insects of "Packt Like Sardines In A Crushed Tin Box" and "Pull/Pulk Revolving Doors" intoxicate in a droids-in-heat fashion, more engaging fare rewards the patient. "Knives Out" recalls the Smiths. "You And Whose Army" is a woozy beauty of whispered challenges and a "Hey Jude"-style crescendo. The eerie "Dollars And Cents" points ugly fingers at the WTO and the IMF. A reworked "Morning Bell" (from Kid A) is as delicate and soul-freeing as John Lennon's "Across The Universe." Amnesiac closes with "Life In A Glasshouse," a wobbly bit of New Orleans jazz with vitriolic lyrics about nosy journalists.

While rumor has it that Radiohead is currently back in the studio writing big guitar anthems, Amnesiac covers that period two years ago when the band was climbing the walls and coming apart at the seams.

"A lot of that was the buildup of unspoken unhappiness over previous years, rather than the actual process of making music." Bassist Colin Greenwood's relaxed nature is in contrast to Yorke's introverted personality. "We just didn't have a plot. We would never disown the vast majority of the songs we've done, but Thom's emotional nature is such that he puts everything into a song that he wrote in 1993. He is a different person now. And then there was a lot of fear going around over technology. I spent a year just learning how computers work. 'We are a guitar band,' I thought. 'What are we doing?' But a lot of the records we love are by Kraftwerk, Neu!, and Can: flowing, instrumental, stream-of-consciousness music. There has always been an element of dance to our music. Dodgy bands always say that, don't they?"

For Kid A and Amnesiac, Radiohead destroyed its idols, trading its usual music-writing procedures for tedious hours of studio experimentation with samplers and computers. The music of Alice Coltrane and Charles Mingus was also influential. Yorke lead the way, with Colin in close accord. The rest of Radiohead were less computer-friendly, but after the dead-end misery of touring behind OK Computer, Yorke knew there was no other way.

"A lot of thinking needed to be done," says Yorke. "If you are running on auto for that long, like we were by the end of [the Radiohead documentary] Meeting People Is Easy, it is quite damaging. You lose confidence. You think, 'Hang on, this is not where we are supposed to be. This doesn't feel right.' It just seemed a bit silly: 'Not only is this horrendously out of date, it is not doing us any good. We are not writing good stuff, it is not exciting.' We had to get back to where it felt right again."

"It is good for Thom to feel that he has emotional support," says Colin. "You can say what you want about Thom's fragile persona, but someone who works as hard as he does and then performs in front of 10,000 people every night and reveals his emotional candor--physically, he is a strong person and emotionally, he is very sensitive, too. People think he is fragile and f--ked up, but not really, don't think so. Do an 18-month tour around the world and see how you feel."

These days, Yorke feels much better. He knows how to give long answers. He knows how to speak in riddles. And he knows exactly when the hour is up. But he does seem fitter, happier, and more productive. With all these good vibrations and hopeful guitar-rockers in Radiohead's future, can a love song or two be far behind?

"Yeah, probably, yeah. Mmmmm." Yorke ponders life, love, and his first Kid A. "I think I do anyway. If I was going to write a love song, it wouldn't necessarily be a 'love song.' And as I keep banging on about, these songs are not autobiographical, so if it was then it wouldn't be, just because I have a new baby son. It would be quite amusing, just to me and him, and that is about it."

So, having a son has changed Yorke's life?

"Yeah, well, he is here to save the universe, after all. I am getting him trained in woodwork."