Love ’em or hate ’em, there’s no denying that Radiohead is among the most celebrated outfits in musical history. Much of the talk of their work is centered around two of the five members—singer Thom Yorke and multi-instrumentalist and composer Johnny Greenwood.

However, there is a hidden gem in their shadows in Ed O’Brien. For years, he has been relegated to the background, getting even less attention than Phil Selway, often mentioned in conversations of the best drummers in the world, and even Colin Greenwood, whose bass lines are undeniably groovy.

But now, he has emerged with Earth, his first solo record. And it’s pretty quickly apparent that we need to be apologize for ignoring him all this time.

Earth isn’t exactly a Radiohead-soundalike. No one is going to confuse these tracks for the full band (unlike much of Thom’s solo work). But it combines its influences in a similar way. The songs draw from alternative to folk to dance music to pop—often in the same track.

“Shangri-La” opens the record with a light and breezy synth hook, joined quickly after by a Ed’s voice singing in a cheery falsetto not entirely unlike Thom, but it hardly sounds like he’s aping him. As the song builds, he adds spacey guitars and atmospheric synth pads until it all collides with the chunky guitar riffs of the chorus. For anyone underestimating Ed, this track comes as a staggering indictment.

But it’s follow up is even more impressive. “Brasil” opens with a delicate fingerpicked acoustic guitar, joined by his clear, impressive voice and strings. Then three minutes in, the song entirely transforms. The acoustic arpeggio hands off the song to a kick drum and bass guitar playing a new figure. The song builds on this section for the next five minutes, the atmosphere swelling with strings and keyboards, electronic drum loops joining in until what started as a gentle folk song becomes a rave, which lasts another three minutes. It’s a tour-de-force of O’Brien’s compositional skills, and it does not leave you wanting.

The simple fact that the rest of the album doesn’t disappoint after the one-two punch of the first two tracks is a feat unto itself. “Deep Days” is a laid back track that doesn’t skimp on the groove. “Long Time Coming” strips back almost everything (barring some unobtrusive lead guitar and a pillowy atmosphere) and leaves Ed alone with his acoustic guitar, offering a track that lands somewhere between Pink Floyd’s acoustic driven tracks on Meddle and David Bowie’s early material. If the first two songs demonstrate O’Brien’s skill for creating intricate arrangements, the rest of the A side demonstrate his songwriting.

“Mass” opens side-B with more texture, starting out subdued and meditative until an amp-shattering fuzz guitar (courtesy of Smashing Pumpkins producer Flood) interrupts the droning strums of O’Brien’s acoustic guitar. “Banksters” is an indictment of corporate greed set to a grooving drum machine and almost Beck-like indie-folk. “Sail On” delves deep into atmosphere, drenching both O’Brien’s voice and his acoustic guitar in layers of echo, landing in a sort of ambient shoegaze not far from Flying Saucer Attack.

The late-setlist centerpiece “Olympik” is another 8+ minute monolith, and it brings some surprises. Namely, the synthesized orchestra hits that I thought were left in the 90s. But this detail isn’t enough to keep the track from sounding fresh. Across the near-nine minutes of the track, he aims for U2-esque anthem, and he hits it dead on. Put Bono on this track, and it would sound like an outtake from Achtung Baby—and the kind of outtake that everyone listens to and says, “why would you cut this? It’s the best song?” And through the song, you start to remember that Radiohead became the heir apparent of U2’s mantle after releasing The Bends. 

In the still-settling dust of “Olympik’s” anthemic uproar, British folk songstress Laura Marling joins him for the gentle closer “Cloak of the Night,” a long breath at the end of a stunning record.

In the end, Earth is more than just a brilliant debut for O’Brien. It proves that he’s had a much larger hand in the last thirty-five years of Radiohead’s career than he’s been given credit for. Given the sometimes abrasive experimentalism of Thom’s solo work and the obtuse abstraction of Johnny’s side projects (mostly classical work anyway), this album suggests that Ed may be the factor keeping Radiohead tethered to the earth (Earth?).