Radiohead/ The Beta Band/ Kid Koala
Park Jean Drapeau
Montreal
August 5, 2001

For the past few months, Radiohead has been answering the question of whether they could pull off the songs from Kid A and Amnesiac in a live setting. Reports from earlier tour dates suggested they had proven to be more than capable of handling the task - but I, ever the skeptic, wanted to see first hand whether this was truth or hype.

In the eighty degree plus weather, it was difficult to feel anything but lethargic. Unfortunately for openers The Beta Band, this was proven during their set, as the audience remained indifferent throughout - though this changed near the end, when they played "Dry the Rain", which could reasonably be described as their one "hit" song. This was followed by a song in which the group became an all-percussion ensemble, with help from hometown turntablist hero Kid Koala.

After a quick changeover, Koala himself performed a brief set. Small security cameras, which Radiohead had mounted all over the stage to capture footage for two large video screens, were aimed at Kid Koala's turntables, allowing the audience an up-close view of how fast his hands moved. It was a dazzling performance, featuring snippets of dialogue from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, Tears for Fears' "Shout", a trumpet solo and, wisely, bits of Radiohead, which served to heighten the crowd's anticipation.

When Thom Yorke and the rest of the band finally hit the stage, they were greeted with the sort of enthusiastic response generally reserved for war heroes. Their set began with "The National Anthem," followed by "Morning Bell". While the former did a good job of heightening the audience's frenzy with its driving, grinding bass line, the latter failed to build on it. Though wild cheers met the opening chords, after a few minutes most seemed to be eager for the band to move on.

It was a wise move on Radiohead's part to follow up with "Airbag," followed by "Karma Police," which inspired a mass singalong. The remainder of the show featured memorable moment after memorable moment. "Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box" became a harsh, rocking song; when Yorke sang "I'm a reasonable man, get off my case," I was reminded of the passion he used to display on albums like Pablo Honey and The Bends.

"Exit Music (for a Film) was spine-tingling, especially at its end, when approximately 20,000 people sang along, singing "We hope that you choke." The driving, bluesy riff of "I Might Be Wrong," when taken to the forefront of the song and amplified, turned the track into a masterpiece, taking the entire show to a whole new level.

It wasn't until the final three songs of the main set that Radiohead showed the true, otherworldly extent of their talent. "Paranoid Android", with its bizarre time signatures and excellent musicianship, culminated in what could be best described as a religious experience, with many in the crowd raising their arms to the skies during the "Rain down" part of the song. "Idioteque" was equally brilliant, sounding like a dance club being pulled down into the bowels of Hell. Its pulsating beat, combined with Yorke's mantra-like vocals, created something most dance artists only dream of. It eventually evolved into "Everything in its Right Place," which was far catchier and dance-oriented than one would expect based on its appearance on Kid A.

Each of the three (!) encores allowed the band to connect with the audience on a more personal level. Yorke, who had been in a good mood throughout the evening, ran to the edge of the stage at the beginning of the second encore, his arms wide and a large smile in his face. "You and Whose Army" showcased his new-found sense of humour; performed on a piano with a camera mounted on the microphone, Yorke had the piano turned so the crowd was directly behind him. Clutching the mic, he looked directly into the camera, smiling, creating a strange sense of intimacy, heightened by the fact that he was hamming it up. At the line "You and whose army?", Yorke leaned over and gestured to the audience behind him, creating the impression of some sort of revolutionary hero showing the power he had behind him. This was followed by "Just", performed at the request of a fan in the audience. "Did he say cheers?" Yorke asked guitarist Ed O'Brien. "Oh, 'Just'. Sure, we can do that." He looked at his other band members for confirmation. "Here we go."

The third and final encore brought the concert as close to perfection as is humanly possible. Yorke, armed with an acoustic guitar, walked to centre stage and performed "Fake Plastic Trees", one of only three songs in the set (the others being "My Iron Lung" and "Just") which predated OK Computer. Eventually joined by the rest of the band, Yorke proved that Radiohead has honed their live show to the point of greatness - and that he himself is far less sour than his enemies and antagonists would like you to believe.

The best band in the world? This is likely a title Radiohead would shun. Given the strength of their performance, however, it may be a tag which they won't be able to avoid for much longer.

Matthew Pollesel

Splendid
08.2001