Radiohead
Hollywood Bowl
Hollywood
September 25, 2003

The church of Radiohead was in session Thursday for the first of two consecutive sold-out dates at the Hollywood Bowl, with most of the faithful on their feet for much of the Brit band's two-hour set. Yet while the group remains brave and iconoclast, the sometimes cold calculation and emotional distance of the music is hardly an invitation to join that grand congregation of fan worship.

Like Radiohead's albums in recent years, there were moments of probing perception and jagged sonic strikes. Contrary to the band's champions in the media and a legion of rabid fans, however, this group is not the savior of rock 'n' roll but more so curious and confounding mavericks who do break new ground while also leaving behind a big mess of misfires that end up on the same records. Then again, two nights at the Bowl means you're far more than just a cult band.

While there was plenty of social condemnation, there was little in the way of affirmation. After all, this is an outfit whose idea of an audience sing-along is "I hope you choke." Too often, wry caustic commentary found in some lyrics was often lost in the sonic din.

Shrouded in purple lighting, the group proved that despite atmospheric and textured detours, they can still rock, leading off with the tribal pulse of "There There" followed by "2+2=5," both from the band's latest album, Hail to the Thief, which splits the difference between the group's electronic indulgences and more tightly focused songs.

The anguished moans and wails of singer Thom Yorke may well be the voice of a tortured intellect, but it doesn't wear well because of his limited range of expression - he's either sad, despondent or angry. Physically, however, he sure played the happy boy, strumming guitars and also gyrating spastically about the stage with herky-jerky ants-in-the-pants dancing during the most rhythmic numbers while lead guitarists Jonny Greenwood and Ed O'Brien delivered impressive salvos of industrial clang and waves of feedback.

The direct and driving "Where I End and You Begin" gave way to the techno-beat noodling of "Backdrifts." Yorke took to the piano for some of the most melodically engaging numbers, including "Sail to the Moon," and the show's biggest surprise came with "Lurgee," going back to the band's debut album from a decade ago, Pablo Honey. Sounding almost innocent and certainly simpler in form than more recent material, a winning rendition showed that pretentious sonic studio games are no replacement for truly enduring songs.

The main set finished up with the bass-quake rumble of "The National Anthem," feeding into the expressionistic " Exit Music (For a Film)" and the whipping whirlwind of "Sit Down. Stand Up."

Two sets of encores featured some of the night's strongest performances, including the evocative ballad "Like Spinning Plates," from 2001's Amnesiac; a reworked, more muscular "A Punch-up at a Wedding," off the latest album; the MTV hit "Karma Police," from 1997's the acclaimed O.K. Computer; and, in what seemed to be a summation, the closing "Everything in Its Right Place," off the still-controversial Kid A.

Radiohead has been called a Pink Floyd of a sorts for a new generation. That assessment isn't too far off the mark, though the group seems to go out of its way to jar an audience out of any potential dream state with a shock-and-awe attack, so that one comes away with an experience that fades fast in memory, with only a few tunes left to linger in the head. Too bad.