Radiohead/ Deerhoof
Embarcadero Marine Park South
San Diego
June 26, 2006

Rating: 97%

For those of us whose religion is music, news of Radiohead’s North American tour this year was nothing short of the second coming of Christ.

Which is why when this decade’s musical prophets stepped onto the stage at the San Diego Embarcadero, it was hard to believe it was actually them. I just couldn’t sink in. Even though I spent all day laying out in line on concrete to stake a spot closest to the stage (the venue was shockingly enough general admission), where I heard them play the most beautifully haphazard version of “How to Disappear Completely” during sound check. And even though I was shooting my mouth off to my 16-year-old brother about the greatness that is Radiohead, how he might not get to see them again for another 5 years, and what a goddamned lucky bastard he is.

The stage setup was stark but grand, rhomboidal screens suspended across the width of the stage, looming behind where the band would be standing. The screens previewed, from what I heard of their previous U.S. shows on the tour, a precursor to the performance, and a heavy symbol of the band’s detachment from the audience.

Even after the sweet and squaling set from Japanese chanteuse-fronted Deerhoof, Radiohead’s descent was postponed in order to give way to a darker sky that would allow their behemoth screens to light up for full hypnosis (or divination, if you bought into that yet).

But their performance was not so cold. Nor was it detached. Free of any new age mechanical angst which they claim to detest, the members of Radiohead walked humbly to the front of the stage, took their positions and began to purge the tumble of emotions from their 1,000 some fans at sundown. The startling opener “There, There” was more punctuated and churning live than retrievable on the band’s most recent album Hail to the Thief. It wasn’t until mid-song that the screens lit up, each one showing a distorted and discolored angle of an instrument being played onstage.

Thus, with the thrust of the crowd, Radiohead segued into “2+2=5,” fans yelling with Thom to “Pay attention!” His unabashed dancing and spiraling hands onstage coupled with the ferocity with which the instruments were played sent the crowd into a psychotic flurry, people pushing so hard you were jumping up and down effortlessly, carried by the lack of gravity by the mass of bodies surrounding you. Everybody wanted to see Radiohead’s faces, and they made themselves so accessible that the fans weren’t ashamed to say no to the screens. And the band was clearly responsive, as Thom thanked the crowd numerous times, even extending his hands to the very lucky front row holders. The crowd charmingly obliged in joined together to sing bassist Colin Greenwood "Happy Birthday."

Spending almost half the set introducing new material, they unveiled yet another album which nests even more deeply in the idiosyncrasy that is the ever mutable idea of a new Radiohead. “15 Step” is a keyboard number, a driven syncopated ramble with Thom’s brawling tight-strung voice, and a more desperate crying ballad akin to “Karma Police” is “Videotape.” “Nude” showcases Thom’s most precise falsetto ever, used more frequently in the new songs. The disjointed “Down is the New Up” may be one of the more haunting percussive numbers to come. Fans of Hail to the Thief will have no bones to pick with the new work.

As for fans of Kid A, they got to hear half the album that night, finally reaffirming the power of “Idioteque” and “Everything in its Right Place” to those who hadn’t yet had the advantage of seeing them life (myself being one of them). “Paranoid Android,” though sadly cut short for performance sake, naturally stood for itself and sent the crowd yelling at all the “Gucci little piggy” frat boys “kicking and screaming” to the beer tents during the newer songs. For those who love Radiohead for their old brand of 3-guitar rock and faltered during the mechanical ramble of Kid A, the band assured complete satisfaction by unfolding two precious gems, “Street Sprit” and “Just.”

Hearing a live version of “Lucky,” one of their more hopeful songs dating from the OK Computer-era, was like being elevated to a new plane of musical participation, on the brink of something that couldn’t be defined at the moment. The song was the band’s last, and it proved that they had not resigned to concealment in their clouds (or screens) of a musical Olympus.

If seeing Radiohead really was like the second coming of the indie rock Christ (and it is, you can’t disagree), then having Thom Yorke, the messiah of modern music himself turn the microphone on the audience right before exiting the stage was a divine sanction for us to go in peace.

We can all stand strong in our faith in Radiohead. No need for prayers yet… at least until the new album comes out.

Taleen Kalenderian

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