So yes, I have spent an inordinate amount of time enjoying the delights of Radiohead over the years. To the point of them almost being the soundtrack of my life. I've sat on the train with my eyes closed and my toes a-tapping. I've lied down on my bed with my head rocking and my hands a-flicking. There's just something about them in that they always seem to come up with the perfect melody or lyrical prose to sum up my particular mood(s).
However, I've never seen Radiohead live and in the person before. Friday night was to be the first time in the flesh then, and not even the prospect of having to trek out to darkest, furthest Boondall could dampen my spirits. I couldn't help thinking how good it would be to see them in a smaller, more intimate venue, but hey, beggars can't be choosers and the 'trek' was made with excitement and anticipation levels at an all-time high.
So my colleagues and I made our entry into the arena about 20 minutes before Radiohead were due to come on. As I moved down the stairs to the standing admission areas in front of the stage, I couldn't help but think back to the Brisbane Bullets and what used to fill these seats. We were in for something a hell of a lot different I knew that for sure.
And so it began. They opened with Lotus Flower and then Bloom from their most recent album, King of Limbs, before a classic from OK Computer in Airbag. Thom Yorke and his solo piano then brought us the unreleased The Daily Mail with a cheeky cockney accent before a suprising cheer went around the arena for Hail To The Thief's Myxomatosis.
Over the top of all this were huge screens floating above the band showing different images of each member in playing mode and providing quite a visual spectacle. From a close-up of Yorke as he played the piano in a look of pure concentration, to Colin Greenwood's fingers flying over and under the strings of his massive bass guitar. Bright red. Then green. Then blue.
By the time the tamborine intro from Reckoner came around, I couldn't help but feel like I was inside one of those kaleidoscope toys I had as a kid with the changing colours and images as you twisted the bottom piece. The song itself was just as beautiful and my mind pondered "is this what taking acid is like?" I was stone cold sober but things were getting a little bit religious.
Another classic Climbing Up The Walls got another big cheer and its chaotic brillance was all there to be seen. Mellow acoustic guitar and some electro that almost got the lighters out from the crowd, before it exploded into 'hard-and-fast' that meant you had no way of stopping yourself from moving. I noticed a small space had been created around me. Guess I was moving a little more than I realised.
Over the next few songs we had a newie in Staircase as well as some old school triumphs such as There There and National Anthem before the electronics returned via Feral and Bodysnatchers. And that was it. Or so it seemed. Or how it was meant to seem. Because no-one went anywhere. An encore surely.
And yes, they didn't disappoint. A few minutes later they returned to the stage to massive applause with the slow,early wallow of Give Up The Ghost from Kings of Limbs. Just Thom and an acoustic guitar started things off before Josh Greenwood joined in on the cello (is there no instrument this man can't play?). This continued with a loop of the first lyric which made it sound like Thom was actually duetting with himself. It was majestic. You could have heard a pin drop as the audience stood/sat in silence, mesmerised and awestruck.
The emotion continued with Pyramid Song before the strong beats of Morning Mr Magpie let loose and brought things back around to percussion and movement. This was one hell of an encore, especially as one was thinking each song would probably be the last and it would all be over.
Alas, things had not reached any sort of peak just yet. Not by a long stretch. For the early bass sounds from Paranoid Android soon followed and a massive response from the audience occurred. While the band itself seemed a little disinterested at this point (playing it for the 1000th time might do that), the crowd certainly were not and a massive singalong, the first for the night, took place.
What came next was probably my personal highlight for night. If I had to pick one. I stood waiting for what was next as the band rearranged themselves and soon the intricate guitar intro to Street Spirit (Fade Out) was heard. For long time fans this was exquisite. The lone track from their second album The Bends (1995), and one of my most favourite tracks of all time. I sang along in unison to "Faaaadddeee Ouuuutttt Aggggaaaaiiiinnn" and the emotion nearly bubbled out before I shook my head at the end with a silly, mad grin across my face. Wow. Just wow.
And that was the encore. Or should I say Encore 1. The lads moved off stage once again but we all stayed and the slow hand-clapping commenced. The mandatory few minutes ensued and the band came back out while the floating screens arranged themselves in unison to act as a ceiling above them. It was a beautiful affect as it gave the impression they were inside a small, more intimate venue rather than a 12,000 person arena.
The hardcore bongo drum beat from 15 Step then filled the air as the lyrics began with "How come I always end up where I started". Again, my head was rocking and my toes were tapping as Thom looked like a new-age Ian Curtis jerking and pulsating across the stage.
All this before they moved effortlessly into Everything In Its Right Place. Another classic from Kid A (2000) and it was magnificent. It started off with its slow looped-over lyrics before turning into a jam of epic proportions. Each band member then left at different intervals until there was only one instrument (keyboards) being played. Build it up, and then bring it back down. Awesome.
The audience then stood/sat in awe themselves, trying to take it all then. Personally, I was exhausted from the emotion and from the experience. Really, an experience like no other. No-one wanted to leave though and the crowd stayed where they were. A loud cheer then came from up front and everyone looked closely for a sign. And there it was. The band were returning for Encore No. 3. Three bloody encores. Not in my wildest dreams did I expect this.
The heavy bass from Idioteque then blasted out from the massive speakers and it continued to rise into a mish-mash jam of electronics, percussion, rap-like lyrics and looped-over calling. In a way, it was almost too much despite its brilliance. A wall of sound that crashed into and through every one of our senses.
By this stage of the night the crowd were feeling a little delicate after what they'd been through and this last song came to an end with everyone in shock and awe at what they'd just witnessed. My colleagues and I filed out of the arena feeling just the same way and hardly a word was spoken on the long trip home.
It probably took the next day for it to all sink in for me. I woke up with that same insane grin and spent the morning thinking back to the night before and shaking my head all over again. Involuntary movements would occur as I found myself tapping my fingers or rolling my body in time to one of last night's songs while making a coffee or walking to the car.
It was that sort of experience. No easily-digested affair or a mere fleeting beige-like moment in time. It was intense. It was sublime. It was epic.
Sydney and Melbourne, look out!
EDM.
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