An arsenal of mind-shattering weaponry is about to be dropped on the heads of thousands of people in London but Thom Yorke seems unconcerned. In fact, rather than heading-up a delegation to confront Tony Blair or ranting furiously through a megaphone at a CND rally about this cataclysmic event, Yorke just grins irascibly. If anything, he's the one that will press the big scary red button tonight. This is Radiohead and in approximately 120 minutes time, the people before them will leave having felt this almighty power right between their eyes.

Radiohead have a lot of weapons. It's perhaps why they remain untouchable. Right from the go tonight, their force is felt by a crowd who must consider themselves very fortunate to be here, witnessing a host of new songs that are essentially works in progress. Soon they will surely be very familiar. Blitzing into life with "National Anthem", the Radiohead rhythm section is a dazzling, potent force, Colin Greenwood's bass as punishing as the red strobe panic attack that surrounds him. It is quite an opening.

Later in the show, as this embarrassingly gifted assortment of individuals convulse their way through a stunning "Idiotique" [sic], drummer Phil Selway is actually the only member of the band playing what might be considered their standard role. Just ten days after the sudden death of his mother, the invincible unity of this band is as obvious and crucial as the sonic visions and contributions of both Greenwood and Selway. It is, after all, they who drive the heavy pulsing tension of the first two new tracks, "Open Pick" and "15 Step", which sees Selway laying down a mantra of Can-esque proportions.

It's unusual to have one genius in a band but Radiohead have two. Johnny Greenwood is a mesmeric force, a lead protagonist in the band's electronic headspace which even now the UK music press rather pathetically view with leper eyes. When not casting spells from a fizzing magic box, he ushers angel sounds from his guitar for "Exit Music (For A Film)" or brings the noise on ace new track "Arpeggi" and the stupidly smart "Paranoid Android". Ed O'Brien's role, meanwhile, is more understated - his technique of 'thrown' vocals is used again on "Open Pick" and it's unlikely anyone in rock will ever play a casaba with such purpose as he does on "Paranoid Android". Moreover, with a three guitar attack, the band are ripped with noise on "2+2=5" and "There There" to through the floor levels of intensity.

Of course, Thom Yorke is himself something of a talent, as the forthcoming solo LP, The Eraser, will surely attest. It's from his mouth that Radiohead discovered and continue to express their obscenely doomy voice to a goggle-eyed global audience. So, not only does the new material find Yorke on familiar lyrical ground as he moans "this is like a nightmare, this is your warning" - "Four Minute Warning" - but his versatility across instruments sees him strewn at a piano for the drawn drama of "Go Slowly" and "Spooks", plus the swollen, epic closer "Eveything In Its Right Place". Blink and you miss it, but he even takes to a mini drum kit on "Bangers 'n' Mash".

All of the above coalesce in one unforgettable climax, as 5,000 people join the band on an enormous, spine-tingling rendition of "Karma Police". We await Radiohead's next bomb like lambs to the slaughter.

Ben Gilbert