Picture this: A legendary band whose songs eerily foreshadowed our turbulent, fast-paced world of pandemics, conflicts, and crumbling systems – and now, after a decade of silence, they're roaring back with a ferocious live show that packs an emotional punch. But here's where it gets controversial... are their apocalyptic visions just artistic genius, or have they become a self-fulfilling prophecy? Stick around to dive into Radiohead's electrifying return, and you'll see why fans are still buzzing.
It's been nearly ten years since Radiohead unleashed a fresh studio album, and over seven since they graced a stage. During this hiatus, the world has hurtled even deeper into the dystopian futures their lyrics warned about – think zoonotic outbreaks spreading like wildfires, invading forces reshaping borders, makeshift bunkers for protection, relentless downpours symbolizing chaos, plummeting heavens, and infrastructure on the brink of collapse. All of this was vividly depicted in the poetic writings of frontman Thom Yorke, the band's introspective lyricist and singer.
Yorke's fame as a prophet might be exaggerated, amplified by the myth surrounding Radiohead in their absence. Yet, if he's a visionary – a debate that's ongoing, more influenced by political stances than pure musical prowess – he's far from the only standout in the group. Despite Yorke's impressive solo and collaborative efforts, like his recent projects with guitarist Jonny Greenwood in the more experimental trio The Smile, devoted followers have been patiently waiting an eternity for the complete quintet to reunite.
Suddenly, with little fanfare, no clear motive, and no new releases on the horizon (at least not publicly), Radiohead has staged brief residency shows in select European venues. Performing in a circular setup – where the band is surrounded by the audience on all sides, creating an intimate, communal feel – they maneuver behind a delicate projection screen that initially looks like a protective barrier. But as it turns out, they don't need any shields. This isn't a tentative comeback; it's a bold, robust resurgence.
Yorke kicks off with the opening line from 'Let Down' – 'Shell smashed, juices flowing' – and it's a fitting choice. This lesser-known track from their 1997 album OK Computer has become a beloved gem among fans, recently gaining viral traction among teenagers on TikTok, marking one of the band's closest brushes with mainstream popularity in modern times. Described as beautiful yet strangely buoyant, with a touch of gentle self-deprecation – Yorke's witty mockery of his own penchant for sentimental 'nonsense' echoes the underrated humor of literary giants like Franz Kafka – it carries a unique blend of optimism amidst uncertainty, passed down from Generation X to Generation Z like a bittersweet heirloom.
In this performance, the shimmering vocals and Greenwood's distinctive guitar riff (played in a rhythm that doesn't align with the rest of the instruments, adding a layer of complexity) are amplified to enormous proportions by a thunderous rhythm section. This sets the energetic vibe for the evening, even if the higher frequencies occasionally get swallowed by the echoey acoustics typical of large arenas. Drummer Phil Selway, additional percussionist Clive Deamer, and Greenwood's bassist brother Colin deliver a powerhouse display on mid-to-late career songs like '2+2=5,' 'Bloom,' and 'Ful Stop,' turning them into seismic experiences.
Jonny Greenwood has long been Radiohead's hidden strength – his demeanor as approachable as offering a cozy cup of tea, yet his musicianship swings from tender, soulful expressions to raw, almost savage intensity. His bass lines have guided listeners through the band's most challenging studio compositions, and tonight's selections from the 2000 album Kid A, such as 'Everything in Its Right Place' and 'Idioteque,' showcase their 25-year evolution from frigid, experimental jolts to anthems that energize crowds and fill dance floors.
By the time they reach '15 Step,' even the upper levels of the seated areas are swaying like infants to those intricate drum beats, as Yorke reminds everyone that 'it comes to us all' – likely referring to aging or mortality. Now approaching 60, Yorke remains remarkably agile, sporting a greying beard like an old sailor, and he dances playful jigs across the stage during 'The National Anthem,' backed by its ridiculously catchy bass line that he penned as a teenager.
Yorke has always glanced at icons like Mick Jagger, keeping tabs on how legacy bands might start to repeat themselves. This reunion, however, feels anything but stale. Radiohead's followers tend to be more dedicated and quirky than most, so some might gripe about the scarcity of tracks from albums like A Moon Shaped Pool or The Bends. Still, the early single 'Fake Plastic Trees' explodes with that iconic line, delivering even more force live than on record.
In the past, their concerts reflected a palpable liberation from the studio grind, freeing them from the intense creative pressures that once nearly unraveled the band. Tonight's vitality could signify something new, but the sheer exhilaration is undeniable for anyone who's cherished this group – it's not merely enjoyable; it's pure, unadulterated bliss. Yorke keeps his words minimal, offering just a 'gracias' (thank you in Spanish). Many feel he should have spoken out more vocally and loudly on key issues in recent years, such as his decision not to perform in Israel amid political tensions. Others recall the anxious young artist who was unnerved by the rapid technological advancements of the early internet era – like the dawn of the iMac – and still see him as the ideal voice for our current era of relentless change.
And this is the part most people miss... How does a band stay relevant after decades? Radiohead proves it's about evolving while staying true to their roots, blending nostalgia with fresh energy. But is their apocalyptic lens a warning we heed, or just poetic exaggeration? Share your thoughts in the comments – do you agree Yorke's activism has overshadowed his music, or is his silence a strength? What tracks would you have added to the setlist? Let's discuss!
For reference, here's the full setlist from their opening night:
Let Down
2 + 2 = 5
Sit Down. Stand Up
Bloom
Lucky
Ful Stop
The Gloaming
Myxomatosis
No Surprises
Videotape
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
Everything in Its Right Place
15 Step
The National Anthem
Daydreaming
A Wolf at the Door
Bodysnatchers
Idioteque
Encore
Fake Plastic Trees
Subterranean Homesick Alien
Paranoid Android
How to Disappear Completely
You and Whose Army?
There There
Karma Police
