Radiohead/ Beck/ Supergrass/ Sigur Ros/ Hester Thrale/ The Rock of Travolta
South Park
Oxford
July 7, 2001

Rating: 5/5

Radiohead have experienced success of a truly abnormal nature - and it's taken them the best part of ten years to reach global mega-stardom. However, despite becoming an act that can sell out thousands of tickets within just days for this South Park show, in their native Oxford, they've managed to remain as open-minded and exciting in their approach to music as they've always been - inclusive to everyone that wants to hear quality music. Thus, today's event has been in the pipeline for years, a chance for them to celebrate where they've come from and where they've been able to go. And, sure enough, today's concert definitely feels like a very important home-coming.

However, the British weather is amongst us. From the outset, the clouds are a hovering, grey mass of depression that linger above our heads, overseeing all the live music and numerous queues to various food-stalls and on-site bars that exist in the field. But let's not allow this to discourage us from a good day out. Indeed - that would be too difficult a job, especiially when looking at the artists playing today on the grand stage in front of us. First up, though, are two unsigned bands, The Rock of Travolta and Hester Thrale, the former preferring to joke around with the concept of Radiohead's original track from OK Computer, 'Fitter Happier', in a truly bemusing of manners, whilst the latter indulged in polite experimental-rock of a genuinely well-produced effort. No doubt these two local bands will have gained a healthy stock-up on the confidence they needed from this show to further themselves in the way that they both deserve to; good luck, guys.

Humphrey Lyttleton - UK jazz legend, now eighty years old - kicks off his band's set in a tremendous manner, prompted by a mighty roar from the crowd. The conventional, trad. blues/jazz of 'Things Ain't What They Used To Be' enables a fair eruption of claps, especially at the closure of every band-member's solo. It becomes slightly surreal, however, when Lyttleton tells 42,000 people to chant 'wham-bam' in time with the music, but they certainly prove their worth by the time they walk off to a very open-armed reception. Distinguishable song-structures and repetitive rhythms are things that aren't apparent in Sigur Ros's following set, though - but the change is refreshing. Beginning with their most known track, 'Svefn G Englar', what follows is an epic performance, with string and piano-laden pieces of the most sensitive and touching variety building up to a crushing crescendo of a finale, where the band fully indulge within a bit of instrument-thrashing. Utterly beautiful as ever, that next album of theirs will conquer the alternative world and cement their name as one which represents originality and diversity - without arrogance.

The Oxford-born Supergrass turn up next - lead-singer Gaz Coombes asking us, 'Are you local,' before finishing the catchphrase from BBC TV's 'The League of Gentlemen', by insisting, 'This is a local gig - for local people!' And - before we fully acknowledge it - a fair smattering of old faves flood the speakers, with 'Caught By The Fuzz' preceding the ever-haunting 'Mary' and tremendous 'Moving', whose impact is so immense that it forces hundreds of fans into pogo-heaven, creating a heaving mass of bouncing lunatics. A feisty rendition of an 'as yet unfinished' new song is enough evidence to show that Supergrass are continuing as strong as ever, Coombes' Jagger-like rasp still essential listening. The rather lengthy set concludes on a run of hits, namely 'Pumping On Your Stereo', 'Richard III', 'Sun Hits The Sky', not to mention 'Going Out': a hit-packed machine designed to entertain; watch them at their finest at the Carling Weekend later this year.

Rain. It's here. The threat of it may have been with us all day long, but we didn't think it would actually be cruel enough to strike us just in time for Beck's acoustic set. Only a sumptuous 'Beautiful Way' - complete with subtle, blue-shade lighting, Hansen's warm voice and his sweet, chirpy harmonica - can rectify the damp scene. But, he's not finding it easy to break-through to the masses. Although sounding vocally better than ever, Beck suffers from a lack of energy and excitement which the crowd needs to get its mind off the temperamental weather. Trying his very best to address the lack of enthusiasm shown by the audience, he comments in his husky, US croak, 'I feel like I should play something to pick y'all up,' and - with that - we're treated to a spirited rendition of the classic, foot-stomping 'One Foot In The Grave'.

The unplugged nature of 98's Mutations means that he can draw the majority of his set - bar a Hank Williams cover - from the LP, with such gems as 'Noboddy's Fault But My Own' and 'Dead Melodies' showing the relaxed talent of Beck for which he originally built his reputation on. However - after just over twenty five minutes onstage (almost twenty minutes less than anticipated) - much has been left unfinished, and even he realises it as he walks off the stage without saying goodbye.

But - as it hits 20:40 - there are no prizes to see who have got all the perks of being the headline act; with a huge TV screen projecting their every motion to the audience at the back, as well as a well-orchestrated light show, Radiohead are playing in style. Sounding very loud, seeming very bright, it starts off the way it should do, with the industrial groove of 'National Anthem' belting out an electronic racket through the numerous speaker-stacks situated around us. It's such a satisfying start that it makes the pressure to triumph soar as they hit 'Airbag', frontman Thom Yorke uttering lightly, 'Oh bugger,' as they abandon their first attempt at completing it. However, as the set progresses - despite what Yorke says about the band's nerves - Radiohead get better and better with every passing track.

The set-list, essentially, is the same format as that which they've been parading around Europe for the last couple of months, apart from the fact that they're more forthcoming tonight with the disposal of their greatest hits. Early into the show, 'Lucky', 'My Iron Lung' and new single 'Knives Out' are tossed our way - and we grab them greedily, chanting alongg and swaying to each track's hypnotic hooks and stunning splendour. Amnesiac and Kid A, however, still take pride of place in the tracks displayed - and that's by no means a dangerous thing. The search-lights on all corners of the South Park site cut into the skies above, making it seem as if the aliens have landed, which creates the correct atmosphere when the hillbilly-blues rock of 'I Might Be Wrong' and the frantic, high-paced beats of 'Idioteque' (complete with Thom's madman dancing) ooze into hearing. Preventing it from getting all too serious, though, Yorke pronounces, 'This song's for Geri (Halliwell, formerly of Spice Girls),' prior to a ripping run-through of 'Paranoid Android', whose 'Rain down on me' sing-along interlude was probably a silly thing to wish for...

Because, yes, it belts it down. Oh, forget the rain; versions of 'Fake Plastic Trees' and 'Karma Police' are so special that it physically aches - the audience united in a mutual love of a music that moves and rocks in a rare way. In fact, such is the sound's power, crowd-members see it fit to yell, 'GET THAT UMBRELLA DOWN,' when anyone blocked each other's views of the stage by trying to shield the torrential downpour above from their heads. It climaxes splendidly as well - the throw-your-arms-up aloftness of ''The Bends' could have been enough to close the show - but, no - not yet.

Coming back on for a third set of encores, Thom and Colin - minus Jonny, Phil and Ed - begin 'Motion Picture Soundtrack', the lead-singer commenting it to be the last... Until - suddenly - it's halted and, 'I have aa beetter idea,' gets mentioned. The next thing you know, the full band are onstage and the threatening thump of 'Creep' is revealed - to the most unbelievable of reactions. The jaw-dropping, towering middle-eight of 'She's running out the door' is bellowed out to the tops of lungs and each and every hair in this park is officially on end - an intense feeling that barely any bands can achieve and strike up in their spectators. It then finishes and it takes a few moments to 'return to normal' after such an affecting show of gigantic proportions.

The words 'Where do we go from here' may have been sung this evening by Radiohead, and the answer to the question is that it's anyone's guess - but there's one thing you can count on if the rest of their rise to prominence is anything to go by: it will be bigger and better. Tonight was proof that they are unstoppable - and Oxford is justified to be so proud off these five people.

Toby L

RockFeedBack
07.01