An acidic, fluorescent orange light burns on the TV screens behind stage, projecting what is Thom Yorke's head, as it effervesces before the dumbstruck but emphatically human masses watching. How appropriate.

Yorke's alien shape is captured throughout a frantic 'Dollars & Cents', exaggerating the 'I am not like you, in fact I'm a bit weird' persona he has been clouted with in Radiohead's recent history. However, amid the life-affirming, vaulting musical adventures of this stupendous BBC live performance, this is as weird as Yorke gets, via TV manipulation or not.

Throughout, he and his 'we are unwilling to be a generational figurehead' cohorts display just how down to Earth they are, whilst unravelling some of the finest and, more recently, bravest music of the last decade, as exemplified by the frequently extraordinary cuts from the supposedly difficult to swallow Kid A and Amnesiac.

Both albums have courted controversy for the band's absolutely commendable desire to make music beyond the staid realms of four/four rock and roll, but its never been Radiohead's fault that some critics, let alone fans, have closed minds. Such bravado is issued by Yorke in a prolonged introduction to 'Knives Out', dedicated to "all the journalists who listened to Kid A once and said 'they've lost it'".

Of the considerable 'new' material aired, the aforementioned uses ascending, gliding guitars in a familiar fashion, alongside the snaking, blues riffing of 'I Might Be Wrong', to easily palatable effect. Elsewhere, however, you get a masterclass in visionary musical expression, as best evidenced by the sci-fi atmospheric pockets and trumpet farrago of 'National Anthem', a seriously overhauled 'Packt Like Sardines' and a paranoid, crushingly dramatic 'Idiotique' (sic), the nirvana of Radiohead's electronic experiments.

Both 'Idiotique' and 'National Anthem' propel Yorke into spinning, electrified Shamanic convulsions, and while lines such as "cut the kids in half", "black-eyed angels swam with me", "I have seen too much" etc, reflect this man's resolutely disjointed class, there is nothing to suggest anything has been lost, rather progress in all areas: To be precise, a statement that they will do what they like and you are welcome to climb aboard if your imagination allows.

There are so many mind-bending moments, beyond the naturally brilliant 'Lucky', 'Street Spirit', 'Exit Music' and a barrelling 'The Bends'. They include an already mythical 'Paranoid Android', a maelstrom of unhinged but precise rhythms, emotions and dynamics, the soothing, bass and organ led 'Morning Bell' - the Kid A issue rather than the more deconstructed, Beach Boysesque Amnesiac version - and a closing 'Everything In Its Right Place', which builds into a shattering mantra of cut-and-paste turbulence.

We're even treated to the spectacle of what appear to be three rejects from the local bowls club - actually renowned trumpeter Humphrey Lyttelton and co - barping and trumping through a rousing and perhaps unique live rendition of 'Life In A Glasshouse'.

And throughout it all, there are sundry smiles, jokes about S Club 7's drug antics, talk of nerves and an invitation from Yorke to the watching millions to "sit down, have some nachos and a cup of tea".

Really, the only troubling thing about Radiohead's current incarnation is the delicious wonder of their music, amid an ocean of retarded, dumb throwbacks. Tonight, we were all up in the clouds.

-Ben Gilbert

Dotmusic
11.06.01