Radiohead have been paranoid androids for nearly two decades, but they haven’t exactly been wrong. In the time period spanning from 1997’s OK Computer to 2003’s Hail to the Thief**, no one made music that, with just a little hindsight, seemed so prophetic, so tapped into the impending fears of our time, whether it was consumerism, social alienation via technology, political apathy, or terrorism. “Burn the Witch,” their first new single in five years, is a direct line to this golden era of Radiohead. It’s no wonder, given the song’s lingering presence throughout the sessions and accompanying tours for Kid A, Hail to the Thief, and In Rainbows—not that drawn-out workshopping is uncommon for Radiohead. But the wait—both for the band and the fans—was worth it: “Burn the Witch” has the makings of an all-time great Radiohead song.

Groupthink is the enemy here, as Thom Yorke sings (rather coherently, and with an even-keeled fragility) via warnings from the authorities, whatever they might be policing. “Abandon all reason,” he directs, “Avoid all eye contact. Do not react. Shoot the messengers.” And, above all, “burn the witch.” This deep sense of dread and skepticism manifests into the kind of music that is capable of spurring what Yorke would call a “low-flying panic attack.”

In a broad sense, the sound of “Burn the Witch” is more rock than electronic—which Radiohead’s music has gravitated more towards over time—but the way the wooden side of the players’ bows seem to hit the strings (a technique called col legno) mixed with finger pads plucking the strings (a technique called pizzicato) transforms the orchestra into another form of percussion, another beat adding to a vaguely electronic undercurrent pummeling the song forward. The increasing amounts of time Jonny Greenwood has spent scoring P.T. Anderson films seemingly has manifested into Radiohead’s new music, and it’s a thrilling direction—albeit one they’ve played with before, on Kid A and Amnesiac**, under the direction of conductor John Lubbock.

Often used to conjure delicate beauty and sophistication in pop and rock music, a string section here alternates between sumptuous flourishes and the darkest corners of The Shining’s score. It’s not since Kid A standout “How to Disappear Completely” that Radiohead have created a song this simultaneously unsettling and gorgeous. Only this time, they’re owning up to being here, to the fact that this is happening. Whatever “this” may be, don’t say Radiohead didn’t warn you.