1.
"Who are you going to see, again?" asks my father.
"Radiohead," I respond with no small amount of electricity in my voice.
"Where are they playing?"
"The Palace [of Auburn Hills]."
"Really?" he half-balks, "They're gonna fill the Palace?"
"Oh yeah, easily. Honestly, for people my age and a little older, Radiohead are, like, the band. Seeing them is like seeing… [thinks]… The Beatles. I can't think of anyone else today who, every time they drop a new album, it's a serious event. It's going to be amazing, I can't wait."
I almost stop myself in the middle of all that when it occurs to me that in another 20 years, some young person I can't hope to understand will vainly attempt to explain why the earth spins around his or her favorite band. Except they won't be comparing this band to The Beatles… they'll compare it to Radiohead.
2.
Up until last night's show, the penultimate U.S. stop on Radiohead's atypically extensive North American tour, the band's 15-year absence from (or "refusal to play," as many did and probably still believe) Detroit became the stuff of urban legend and lavish rumor. Did Thom Yorke really become that incensed at the purported moshing during the band's last Detroit appearance in 1997? Did a member of the Insane Clown Posse really break into one of their trailers? "Would you want to come here?" was the general conclusion most of us came to.
And yet, all of that changed when Radiohead—certainly the most important, if not the best band of our generation—finally announced plans to bring the songs from their somehow still terribly new album The King of Limbs to the Palace of Auburn Hills, home of the Detroit Pistons and the $40 t-shirt. Fifteen years is a long time, sure, but more has changed since their last visit than the cost of an extra-large-- just listen to OK Computer and The King of Limbs back to back and you'll hear the sounds of two very different bands living in very different times. Since they've been gone, Radiohead threw out their guitars, threw out traditional songwriting, threw out corporate influence, threw out music videos, threw out their lyrics, threw out "Creep" and threw out any and all preconceived notions about what this or any other band should, would, could or might ever do, say, play or think.
Meanwhile, many of us had thrown out the hope of ever seeing Thom Yorke step onto a stage within driving distance ever again. Was there a palpable wave of excitement in the air once he finally did? Has baby got the bends? Oh yeah.
3.
After an impressive opening set from Canadian electro-technician(s) Caribou, the house lights went out, the light boards went up and the not-so-prodigal band returned, diving into a lush, billowing run through King of Limbs opener "Bloom." Performing under an intricate array of wire-operated video screens, the band (featuring a not exactly solemn but certainly all-business Thom Yorke but a noticeably grinning Ed O'Brien and Colin Greenwood on guitar and bass respectively) efficiently tore through their recent catalogue, from the guttural guitar moan of "I Might Be Wrong" and "There, There" through the ethereal sway of "Pyramid Song" and transcendent paranoia of OK Computer classics "Climbing Up The Walls," "Exit Music (For A Film)," "Paranoid Android" and even (gasp) "Karma Police."
As has become their custom, the "earlier" (both their unfairly overlooked debut Pablo Honey and critical breakthrough The Bends remained untouched) guitar-driven material gelled exquisitely with the sputtering, spastically rhythmic crawl of their post-Kid A electronic numbers. "Idioteque" remains one of their all-time best crowd-pleasers, while "The Gloaming," "Staircase" and brand-new song "Full Stop" (making its second ever appearance on stage) lurched, spilled, tumbled and roared with energy and furor to spare—if anything, Hail To The Thief's buzzy feline favorite "Myxomatosis" was the evening's most traditionally "rock" moment.
Thom Yorke very nearly went the entire show without mentioning the group's conspicuous absence from these here parts, eventually making a quick reference to the decade and a half interim (to the sound of 14,000-plus genuinely obliged cheers) before cuing a delightfully sullen Jonny Greenwood (whose constantly shifting arsenal of instruments included guitar, keyboards, laptops, analogue knobs and last night's Tigers game) to start off the aforementioned and rarely performed "Karma Police" on a funereal upright piano. In years previous, a line like "This is what you'll get when you mess with us!" could have aptly described our perceived impression of how Radiohead thought of our morose little metropolis. Instead, a gracious sea of voices positively roared during the song's transcendent "For a minute there, I lose myself" coda, to the visible delight of at least three musicians on stage.
After a staggering 23-song set (including two encores), Radiohead stepped one by one off stage left, leaving the droning electronic after-effects of "Everything In Its Right Place" behind them. The last to leave, a clearly humbled and grateful Ed O'Brien waved and bowed to the voraciously thankful crowd, bouncing ecstatically before disappearing behind Jonny's wall of gear. With the flip of a few switches, the road crew turned off the machines and that was that. The lights came up, the amplifiers cooled and our rattled rib cages floated back to the merch table, where, despite all best laid plans, we all spent way too much money on commemorative t-shirts made partly out of recycled plastic bottles. You know… as you do.
4.
When I moved to New York City to attend NYU in the fall of 2004, I had never lived on my own; had never spent any extensive amount of time in a proper city. Knowing now exactly how scary those first few months would become, I probably shouldn't have bought Kid A on CD the day before… or listened to it on a loop in the backseat of our Ford Taurus, half buried in a pile of cardboard boxes, duffel bags and desk lamps, seeing the barren post-apocalyptic uncertainty of my life inside the album's icy, desolate artwork. If I'd known exactly how closely that album's cavernous, paranoiac sprawl would mirror my own boiling, near-debilitating fears… I still don't think I'd have chosen anything different to soundtrack one of the most stressful weekends of my entire life. I also don't think, given the rhetorical opportunity, I could avoid telling Thom Yorke about it. I'm not sure whether he'd be authentically moved or dismissively apathetic. Maybe a little bit of both.
5.
Like Radiohead's latest album, their first trip to southeast Michigan in a short lifetime was announced with little notice, was greeted with massive anticipation, seemed to end far too soon and will be churning, grinding and gestating in our brains for weeks and probably months to come. To say it was worth the wait is a bit of a misnomer—we quietly mourn for all the Detroit Radiohead shows that never were while attempting to remain optimistic, looking forward to a brighter, better future… a future filled to the brim with Radiohead concerts… one each month, ideally. "Thank you so much," I heard Thom Yorke half-gush in between songs at one point. See? It could happen.
Set List:
"Bloom"
"There, There"
"Kid A"
"Staircase"
"Morning Mr Magpie"
"The Gloaming"
"Separator"
"I Might Be Wrong"
"Pyramid Song"
"Climbing Up The Walls"
"Nude"
"Lotus Flower"
"Paranoid Android"
"Feral"
"Little By Little"
"Idioteque"
First Encore:
"Exit Music (For A Film)"
"Full Stop"
"Myxomatosis"
"Reckoner"
Second Encore:
"Give Up The Ghost"
"Karma Police"
"Everything In Its Right Place"
Meanwhile in Radiohead…
Give A Proper First Listen To New Song "Full Stop"
Bonnaroo: Thom Yorke Hints At Potential Jack White Collaboration
Watch Radiohead Cover R.E.M.'s "The One I Love" In New Jersey
For more news, reviews, videos and tunes from your favorite bands/artists, make sure to follow our Music and Indie Rock Ologies.
Follow Brett Warner on Twitter: @Erasurehead
Comments (2)