Among this year’s high-profile summer tours, none was more anticipated than Radiohead’s voyage across America. Having debuted 2000’s Kid A at number one on the Billboard charts, as well as this year’s follow-up, Amnesiac, at number two, Radiohead rolled across the nation this summer as a band at the height of critical and commercial popularity. On Aug. 1, the tour arrived in Grant Park on Chicago’s lakefront, drawing nearly 30,000 fans eager to see how Radiohead would live up to their formidable reputation.
The venue was, in a word, spectacular. To the right was Lake Michigan, to the left the Chicago skyline and above was a full moon. Few sites in the nation could possibly compare to the surroundings for this show.
In spite of the immense heat and the surroundings, the audience kept its focus on the music. The Beta Band, fresh off the release of its second full length album, Hot Shots II, began the evening’s entertainment. As such, its set featured material primarily from the new album. The band received a warm response to its performance of “Dry the Rain,” a song released on The Three EPs, and featured prominently in the 2000 film High Fidelity. Though thoroughly disorganized and largely out of tune, the Betas’ enthusiasm largely compensated for their sloppiness.
DJ Kid Koala then took to the stage. Ever humble, he failed to introduce himself, then told the audience that he was about to “play some records incorrectly,” and hoped no one would be annoyed. Albeit brief, the performance was entertaining. The Kid cut and scratched a predictably arbitrary selection of records on three turntables, then just as the energy peaked played “Fitter, Happier,” a somewhat bizarre Radiohead interlude track which prominently features a Speak ‘n’ Spell. From there he had the crowd in the palm of his hand and proceeded to use the pitch shifter and a record containing only continuous tones to improvise a short song.
After a short interlude, Radiohead meandered onto the massive stage led by lead guitarist Johnny Greenwood, who immediately picked up what seemed to be an AM radio hooked up to a guitar pedal. As he rolled the dial across Chicago talk, it seemed to echo the atmospherics of the studio brilliance for which Radiohead has received so much praise.
In a way, it seemed to encapsulate the essence of that evening’s performance. Both Kid A and Amnesiac relied on extensive processing and digital treatments to achieve their uniquely delicate moods. So, it was anyone’s guess as to how these songs would translate in a live setting. Alternately, however, some have forgotten how their previous albums downright rocked. Essentially, the band set itself up for quite a challenge?to bring the energy and power of live performance to songs that rely more on atmosphere and nuance.
Opening with “The National Anthem,” Radiohead soon proved capable. Colin Greenwood’s fuzz-torted bass announced right away that Radiohead wasn’t dealing in mood music tonight?they were here to rock. And bassist Greenwood’s far-too-obvious resemblance to Christopher Walken helped drive their grinding presence home.
The evening’s psychedelic overtones peeked through during the second number, “My Iron Lung” off 1995’s The Bends. Yorke commenced the theatrics with his face-screwed-shut grimacing and frenzied jerking. His stage presence was so acutely dominating, that by the middle of the set, a mere wry smile in the camera was enough to send the audience into a wave of laughter. More than anything, it seemed to be laughter of relief?relief that Yorke was indeed trying to enjoy himself, despite the challenging nature of his songs.
This domination seems rather ill-fitting for a person who has drawn himself ever deeper into a shell during the course of his career. While his relations with the media have grown more distant with time, indicating a certain insecurity, it has been particularly reflected in the music, as his lyrics have become less distinct, and more muddled in both aural and substantive terms. Since 1993’s Pablo Honey, when he screamed “I’m a creep” clearly and unambiguously, Yorke has produced decidedly opaque songs like “Everything in its Right Place” and “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box.” His lyrics, while becoming more unintelligible, have lost little of their drama, however.
At no point in the performance was this more evident than “Pyramid Song.” The song’s chords came arhythmically, at first accompanied only by Yorke’s moaning. It began to snap together as Phil Selway’s sharp drums gave structure to the song’s pace, and finally Yorke’s heartbreaking yet indecipherable words topped it all. Radiohead remain as precise as ever, yet they seemed to be racing towards the edges of the galaxy at an incredible speed, barely detectable by the human eye.
The rock returned with “Paranoid Android,” the epic, multi-part opus in the tradition of The Who’s early operatic endeavors. The song was a false start at first, as Yorke forgot the words. But this juggernaut was not to be impeded, and soon the audience joined in the fury of this unlikely anthem. Driven by Johnny Greenwood’s thrashing guitar and synthesizer parts, Radiohead courted an intensity as fresh as that sent out by OK Computer’s first shock waves.
After a pair of encores, “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” sent the Chicago faithful home, able to delight in the knowledge that there is a band that can bring 30,000 people together and still challenge them musically without adulterating their art by pandering to the masses.
Radiohead achieved its sizable critical and popular reputation by taking chances. This tour proved no exception; Radiohead took a huge chance bringing these songs, conceived in a studio, to live performance. However, it is a testament to the band’s pure talent that everything came together so well that humid summer night. This is a band capable of great things?who knows where they’ll go from here.
