When I listen to any version of “True Love Waits” now, I still get a mad case of “the feels.” The song is full of longing and yearning for a time since passed. To me, the song is about letting go of the past, and embracing the reality that life is about to change, while feeling all of the excitement, apprehension, sadness, and fear that goes along with a major life change. This may not have been the intent of the original composition, though I feel compelled to ask which one matters more? The novelist’s original intent, or the actions that the novel inspires the reader to take? The most powerful art is that which is relatable – elements of the creation that make the consumer feel like the creation is “theirs”. A sense of ownership creates a deeper level of connection with the content, and in some cases, makes the content an integral part of the consumer’s life.

I don’t feel attached to many Radiohead songs, but “True Love Waits” is one that has etched itself onto the cavern walls of my brain. I love the 1995 version from when Thom Yorke seemed to have more emotional connection with the lyrical content. I love the 2001 live recording when they finally officially released the song. I love the subsequent live versions by both Radiohead and Thom Yorke as a solo artist from 1995–2015. And I love this new, Kid A-meets-Thelonious Monk studio version that was released today in 2016.

To me, “True Love Waits” represents the loss of an Internet-free world. A world before mass behaviour tracking through digital cookies, and analytics for everything. A world where guitars were exciting because digital sound emulation sounded too terrible. Digital pianos sounded digital, not like pianos.

It also represents the excitement of what’s next – the thrill of not knowing where the world will go and become. Being able to watch live concerts and events from around the world on our phones from anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice is pretty bloody cool, for example. And while there are things we lose with change, we also tend to gain much more than what we previously had.

The 2016 “True Love Waits” is subdued and reserved – a relic frozen in time. In many ways, it feels like it could actually be the very last song in Radiohead’s career as a band. This track is like a time capsule that’s been traveling at the band’s side ever since its inception thanks to the thousands of fans who have continued to cling to its fragile melody and yearning performance. In this final rendition, it’s as though Thom Yorke, the rest of Radiohead, and Nigel Godrich are gently putting the song and their entire history as a band to bed. There’s an air of finality to it; no longing for the past in Thom’s voice this time, only acceptance of a band who has graced thousands of stages in front of millions of fans for 30 years, and is reaching the natural closing of a chapter. Much like how OK Computer was the closing of their guitar-led ‘alternative’ music, this final track on A Moon Shaped Pool feels like the conclusion of a set of chapters in the band’s narrative.

In all likelihood, there is no reason for Radiohead to stop making albums as a band. However, there’s also no reason that they couldn’t call it quits on a high note, with a beloved song that’s been travelling by their side for twenty years. Concluding their career as a group in such an understated and respectable note would leave us all wanting more of their unique charm. Lord knows we don’t want them to devolve like other 90's groups such as The Smashing Pumpkins. It would be much more appropriate for a band of Radiohead’s stature to create a natural denouement into solo careers like The Beatles did in 1969. I can’t think of a better song to end Radiohead than “True Love Waits”, a song that perfectly encapsulates all the various phases of their career into a single performance. It would also leave all of us with the perfect parting thought about them as a band… and that’s just…