Sometimes introductions seem ludicrous. Suffice to say a five-piece band from Oxford were present at Manchester Apollo last Thursday to play selections from their new, sixth full-length album...a nd other selections from their back catalogue. That may be both pretentious and fragmented as an opening segment, but short of merely stating the obvious, there are few other ways of opening a Radiohead review.

It's ironic that Radiohead appear to have found themselves in precisely the same dilemma in their post-Ok Computer years. After their 1997 album was widely lauded as a masterpiece, seemingly destined to be slavishly worshipped by Q and other publications in ensuing years, Thom Yorke and company have split critics with new material widely touted as "experimental". 2000's Kid A seemed to draw from sources such as Autechre, Underworld, Can and Brian Eno. Its younger sibling, 2001's Amnesiac, though slightly more guitar and piano laden in the traditional sense, continued on this bent, stretching out to include a collaboration with Humphrey Littleton, defying rumours of a return to tune laden guitar songs.

It's been of frustration to fans of their initial albums, 1993's pop-rocking Pablo Honey and 1995's subtle, fragile, yet powerfully anthemic (hyperbole alert time I think) The Bends that while the bands recent albums have strayed from this territory, songs such as Lift, Big Ideas and True Love Waits (some of their best in this mould) have been consigned to bootlegs and live EP releases. Personally, I'm of the view that the bands' second, third and fourth albums are all superb, with The Bends, closely followed by Kid A, just edging Ok Computer. Amnesiac shone in places but was blighted by a patchiness that seemed to signal that it was very much a leftovers section from Kid A.

It's my third time seeing them live, the first was the day before Kid A's release; the second July 2001's massive Oxford South Park homecoming gig, where the band surprised the audience by playing early hit Creep and a few more tracks from The Bends and Ok Computer than usual. Told you introductions seemed ludicrous...

Anyway, perspective abandoned, the Apollo, like other venues on this pre-Glastonbury spring tour, was significantly smaller than the size of the audience the band commanded. I was lucky enough to get hold of a standing ticket, and walked in to queues stretching round the corner from the venue's doors on the basis of a rumour that more tickets had been released. There was no support act (a slight disappointment as I hoped Four Tet would continue their slot from the Irish gigs); but the close proximity offered a fair trade off. Most of tonight's set was drawn from Radiohead's imminent, Bush-baiting Hail To The Thief. Having heard a mastered promo, it seems to mould their recent stylistic ventures with a song writing approach drawing from their earlier material, notably 1995's My Iron Lung E.P.

They amble on stage to play new single "There There", main guitarists Ed O'Brien and Jonny Greenwood backing Thom Yorke with percussion as he sings "Just cause' you feel it, doesn't mean its there". It marries the kind of driving perseverance present in say, "High And Dry" with the skewed guitar of "Optimistic" and beats from "Fast Track". "2+2=5", has a rawness of phrasing to warrant the NME's comparisons to Jeff-Buckley after Grace, but it adds to this the Joey Santiago-inspired guitar-riff from hell and the caustic cynicism of "The Trickster". Apparently "it's the devils way now, there is no way out", it lights the touch paper for the night. It's then amusing to see "The National Anthem" greeted as a sing-a-long favourite, rather than the alien beast to be open minded about which opened on 2000's 'Tent Tour'. It's blinding too. "Lucky" evokes mass chanting, as songs from that particular album inevitably will.

"Sail To The Moon" (introduced by Yorke as "a hopeful song, we've got lots of those haven't we boys") is a piano ballad to build on "Pyramid Song". "Backdrifts" bizarrely has a Soul 2 Soul-esque live tinge to compliment its recorded woozy, lunar-synthecism. "Scatterbrain", which I hadn't initially noticed in the company of songs like "Sit Down Stand Up" on the promo, is arguably the nights highlight. On closer inspection it sounds like the most hauntingly beautiful song Yorke's ever penned, and clearly the hallmark of a band naturally progressing. As he sings "your voice is rattlin' on my window sill... yesterdays people end up scatterbrain" the "lack of emotional involvement" criticism seems a little dubious. "Kid A" is excellent live, with humorous dancing from Yorke, very fun.

It's sing-along time again for "No Surprises", "Myxomatosis" swings like the bastard offspring of "The National Anthem" with a Madchester backbeat, it's ever so slightly Stone Roses and all the better for it. As crowd pleasers go "Paranoid Android" and "My Iron Lung" function with aplomb, but they're overwhelmed by "Idioteque", which is "Born Slippy" with tourettes for the obese businessman in need of a paper-shredder, as ever (and stunning live). "Everything In It's Right Place" closes proceedings, Yorke sitting at the stage corners as the Greenwood's transform its ending into a scattershot sound collage.

The first encore gives us a murky "The Gloaming", supplemented by the band's birthday greetings to drummer Phil Selway. Yorke's "it's Philip's Birthday" is looped to recur near the end. "I Might Be Wrong" is emphatic, while the following "Just" is the most cathartic version I've heard. "The Tourist" is simply sublime, Yorke's vocals exquisite. After a brief break, "Talk Show Host" is as excellent as any song with a lyric about "waiting, with a gun and a pack of sandwiches" should be. The gig is closed with a pristine rendition of "Fake Plastic Trees", with beautiful vocals from Yorke, and sounding the more better in the knowledge that the lyrical and structural ambience providing its strength is present in the new stuff.

Tonight, the new songs offer many of the highlights. The band seemed happy. Yorke exuded a particularly light-hearted stage presence, happily playing with garments thrown on stage and quipping "did someone shout 'Run for The Hills'" while inundated with requests. It looks like Hail to the Thief could be the album that sees Radiohead both on the radio by natural fit rather than design, while still setting themselves up to be retrospectively eulogised by The Wire et al. Still superb live, still writing to a high standard, an excellent gig (introductions aside).

Thomas Lee

No Ripcord
28.05.03