Big fish, small pond—splash!
Rainbows Coalition
There was, as Morrissey once sang, panic on the streets of London. But panic, largely, of the positive kind. Some 1,500 fans and a number of policemen— even mounted ones (well, mounted on push-bikes)—were crushed up on the sidewalk outside the Rough Trade store in the city’s East End. Security guards jostled for position with TV camera crews. On nearby Brick Lane, the Bangladeshi community’s epicenter, the bedlam brought diners and waitstaff out onto the street.
It was a sharp winter’s night, but the heat inside was intense: Radiohead, those five English professor-punks who’ve made it their personal mission to reimagine how bands, you know, do stuff, were about to perform live publicly for the first time in 17 months. Even better, this arena-size
band was playing for a select audience among the racks of CDs and obscure vinyl in the venerable indie record shop.
Except, they weren’t. Since guitarist Jonny Greenwood had announced the in-store on their website that morning (January 16), fans had besieged Rough Trade, desperate for one of the 200 wristbands guaranteeing entry. But by showtime, authorities ordered the show relocated, citing public-order concerns. So everyone—band, road crew, media, police, and the eager hordes—quickly moved on, running a few hundred yards to a new venue, converted brewery
93 Feet East. Enthusiasm was so feverish that pop-star whoops even greeted the appearance of producer Nigel Godrich.
Finally, two and a half hours late,
Radiohead strode onto the tiny stage.
“Warts and all,” said a grinning Thom Yorke, acknowledging the merry chaos. “It’s gonna get ugly.” Then they were off, playing In Rainbows in sequence. “ 15 Step” was itchy and funky. The full-force rock of “Bodysnatchers” seemed to cause Yorke’s face to shape-shift ecstatically. “All I Need” fared less well—the keyboard
“House of Cards.” Innovative sales models and webcasts (they’ve done two others recently) may be clever and fun, but as evidenced by the beaming band members, nothing beats an old-fashioned gig’s visceral tang.
Due to the overflow crowd and police presence, Radiohead only had a couple
atmospherics thrumming with muffled feedback—but when Phil Selway crashed in with his driving cymbal beat, the sound bloomed. The warm, almost sexy vibe that makes In Rainbows so thrilling emerged on the limber, percussive “Reckoner” and the sinuous, shimmering
of hours to make the show work. So with a climactic lurch, they tore into “The National Anthem,” “My Iron Lung,” and “The Bends.“ But contrary to Yorke’s fears, it didn’t get ugly. It got beautiful, powerful, epic, and transporting, in a way that few bands, young or old, can match.
AND Y WILLSHER
References:
Archives