MEDIA ROOTS — Despite reticent airplay from corporate rock stations around the S.F. Bay Area, radio stations which tend to stick to the band’s older hits squeezed into their ultra-commercial agenda, modern rock band Radiohead continues to maintain its popularity for decades, playing a sold-out show yesterday in San Jose’s Shark Tank, or Corporation A Pavilion, in support of its newest album “The King of Limbs.”  (See complete set list below.)

In fact, the band is more popular than ever, despite lacklustre support from the corporate broadcasters controlling modern rock radio. Virtually, the entire “King of Limbs” Tour around the world is completely sold out.  Radiohead will next travel south down California to Santa Barbara before playing Coachella, then Mexico, then Coachella again, before continuing on its world tour.

The opening band from Stillwater, Oklahoma, Other Lives, opened promptly at 7:30 pm, Wednesday night, April 11, 2012, kicking off the concert with ambitious and cinematic music, which clearly paid deep homage to the headlining band, reflecting some influence.  I should probably know who the band was, but I haven’t been listening to an excessive amount of new music lately, I’ll admit.  At first, I wondered if they were not foreign by their musical style of modern rock.  Some people I spoke with at the concession stands noted, yeah, this does kind of sound like Radiohead.  But this band, new to me, seemed to possess an interesting character of its own. Other Lives has been recording for years and has been featured on TV show soundtracks and will join Radiohead in playing this year’s Coachella music festival.

When Radiohead took to the stage after a 45-minute intermission (plenty of time for the captive audience to consume calories, pints of ale, or Radiohead KOL Tour swag), opening with “Bloom,” the packed stadium was fully primed for the rhythmic meditations—absolutely brilliant and intense, cathartic.  From our vantage point, quite close to the lower edge of the balcony seats, billows of herbal smoke dotted the stadium audience, as the band tore it up.  Unfortunately, for our section, our nearest usher was determined to uphold all security codes and came up to where we were seated to scold a girl behind us firing up some ganja.  As the opening King of Limbs track, “Bloom” was an appropriate opener for the “King of Limbs” concert.

Later, frontman Thom Yorke would offer the receptive audience some honest observations in between numbers.  It’s always nice to see such humanity.  At one point, after tearing through “The National Anthem,” Thom Yorke prefaced the next song, helping Radiohead students poring over their lyrics, by commenting on the economic “bullshit” and “…all the people’s money and investigate all that bullshit. And all that Silicon Valley bullshit.”  Thom Yorke continued, “And then you forgot about it. And then they called us up at rehearsal and we decided that we should do this song. So, help me out.“

Radiohead then shuffled into a B-side to “Pyramid Song,” released in May of 2001 and which notably foreshadows the future economic calamity of banks’ collapse/looting, “The Amazing Sounds of Orgy“:

“I want to see you smile again,
Like diamonds in the dust,
The amazing sound of the killing hordes,

The day the banks collapse on us,

Cease this endless chattering,
Like everything is fine,

When sorry is not good enough,

Sit in the back while no one drives,

I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Taking the audience through In Rainbows space, the second number of the night had the audience fully enthralled.  “15 Step” with its instantly recognisable a capella opening and bare drum ryhthms reinforced the vibe we’d cultivated en route to the show.  And it reminded the audience of the band’s recent material. The first two numbers were the first tracks off of their last two albums.  And the night was young.

But seeing Radiohead is truly a luxury, no less for a working-class observer, such as myself, often unable to traverse space and time to bridge the gulf between the San Joaquin Valley and Silicon Valley.  When you’re broke and underemployed forever, you rarely leave the block, much less travel to the heart of Silicon Valley to catch Radiohead’s Bay Area stop on their “King of Limbs” world tour and congregate with the Bay Area’s petit bourgeois, with the Lefties and the Liberals, with the engaged and the disengaged.  But there we were, driving westbound through verdant hills and wine country.  My brother played M. Ward on the stereo—”Post-War.”  He was exhausted from working hard labour all day and I don’t mind tying one on now and then.  After all, anything worth doing is worth doing right.

We listened to King of Limbs, too, on the road.  It’s quite a tranquil album.  The first few tracks connected me to their past work in their own original way, but reflecting some continuity, very tranquil, reaching graceful dimensions of musical expression of emotion.  It’s a rather hypnagogic album.  A plane ascended overhead, as we approached the San Jose exit off of 280.  A scene not unlike the cover of Radiohead’s classic OK Computer, or any metropolitan setting of modern bustle.

Parking was $20 bucks, so that sucked.  But what are you gonna do?  We could’ve parked on the street and walked for miles, but then you miss the tail-gate parties.  Indeed, as we pulled up our neighbours enjoyed themselves at their tail-gate, as security guards chatted down yonder unconcerned.  “The security guards aren’t sweatin’ you guys?” my brother asked.  “We’re about to find out,” said our Euroamerican neighbours.  My brother wasn’t feeling quite as entitled.  “Let’s get out of here, man.”  We did, after a few rounds to save on the Shark Tank bar tab.

In logical succession, the third number was “Morning Mr. Magpie,” track two from The King of Limbs.  This track sounds simple, but is anything but, with its complex layering of agile rhythms, sublime drumming, and muted and delayed guitar playing and sporadic bursts of bass playing.  If there is anything worth fighting for, or dying for, or living for, Radiohead’s musicianship and lyricism were articulating it last night.

“You stole it all,  

Give it back…“

The Shark Tank stage almost seemed like an optical illusion, with its two drum kits on stage with identically head-shaven drummers emanating layered drum rhythms and syncopation.  Bloody hell, I thought.  Is that really two drummers?  Or mirrors and shit?  Indeed.  I was not seeing double.  Not yet, anyway.  This was only the third number.  The band seemed to enjoy the same configuration from every time I’ve seen them live, except for the addition of a second drummer, with Ed O’Brien playing guitar to the audience’s left and Jonny Greenwood with his musical arsenal on the right.  And Colin Greenwood unassumingly layin’ back on bass.  

“Thank you,” said Thom Yorke, going into the fourth track.  They say in journo school, one is to report the story, not be the story.  But I’ve always been thankful some, such as Hunter S. Thompson, never gave a shit.  How much humanity is allowed in public human expression or communication?  I gave my best howl, during one of those opportunistic moments when the venue quiets and one’s howl can travel the furthest:  “Fucken Thom!!!”  Thom Yorke seemed to respond, “Wow!”  But my brother insists we were way too far for it to have been audible.  My vox was shot for days afterward.

No matter.  The warmth of electronic tones then enveloped us into “Kid A.”  The band have previously described their love of Warp Records and such around the period when Kid A was released.  Thom Yorke pulled out some sick ass synth thing and started to rock out with it and synthesised vocalisations. 

Then more obscure track “Staircase” was followed by “The Gloaming (Softly Open Our Mouths in the Cold).”

When I see a band, like Radiohead, like one of my favourite living recording artists, like Morrissey, like Andre Nickatina, like Bjork, like KRS-ONE, like Shellac, like Scratch Acid, like Dinosaur, Jr., I am thankful.  Other favourites, like The Jesus Lizard or Amy Winehouse or Nirvana or The Doors or Big Black weren’t meant to last.  The artistic entity that is the soft animal centre of any worthwhile musical project is something that doesn’t always enjoy longevity.  But some do; and here we have the beauty of Radiohead still going strong.

Radiohead’s music often helped me, and, doubtless, others, reflect on the themes of freedom and humanity and suffering and the human condition—and human triumph.  The ripping opening chords and vocal wails to “The Bends,” were one such musical moment.  

“I wish it was the ’60s,
I wish we could be happy,
I wish that something would happen…”

Such angst and eagerness for progressive change in humanity in our society was heard in popular music in the ’90s.  Rock and roll has often been the stomping grounds of rebels, except when the musical form has been coopted and cloned by corporations eager to promote sterilised radio-friendly unit shifters.  Two decades later, the struggle continues.  For someone aging from the generation of Radiohead itself, I knew, of course, The Bends wasn’t going to be the focal point of this show.  Radiohead’s 2008 DVD, “In Rainbows From The Basement” and The King of Limbs were our reference points for last night’s “King of Limbs” set-list.

“The National Anthem” was almost too familiar and almost seemed too easy as an audience-pleaser, as if the song, having been given sufficient time, had been fully embraced by the audience.  Radiohead’s music definitely takes some time for people to catch up with.  But then, “The National Anthem” did elicit an almost identically enthusiastic appreciation when they performed it at the Shoreline Amphitheatre (in Mountain View, CA) years before.

After Thom Yorke commented on the 1% making money, as economic “bullshit” goes down, and they played “The Amazing Sounds of Orgy,” Thom Yorke cheekily announced the “intermission“:  The epic “Climbing Up the Walls” from OK Computer sounded in during a foray into their classic album.  “Karma Police” followed, with Jonny Greenwood on piano, Thom Yorke on the mic with acoustic guitar, and Ed O’Brien on electric guitar and back-up vocals.  This was an extremely, basic, if dutiful, rendition.  But the tune is just such an effective number, one can hardly help singing along at full tilt.  I was in the piano practice rooms of the local community college just the other day trying to sort out the precise voicing to the C-D-G-F# chord sequence to the tune’s pre-chorus.  Some may argue Radiohead songs like these are played out.  But it would be one’s own fault to try and play out such remarkable work.  For me, and evidently last night’s audience, it’s a timeless tune.  I’ll never forget seeing the condescending slap on Thom Yorke’s shoulder from David Letterman when the band played the song on his TV show, “You alright?” asked the smug host, almost offended by the song’s sincerity.  Some people feel popular music is not meant to be so meaningful.  More recently, David Letterman pulled the same thing on Julian Casablancas when they performed their brilliant number “Taken For A Fool.”

“It’s gonna rain,” said Thom Yorke. “This is freely available on YouTube, as are many things.”  Then Radiohead played the new song “Identikit,” which seems to have lifted its title from the 1974 film. 

Next, “Lotus Flower” gyrated swiftly through the air in an amped up delivery, yet meditative like much of the vibe of The King of Limbs and In Rainbows, incredibly emotive.  By various accounts, this is one of the standout tracks so far off of King of Limbs.

The musical progression between the recent sounds on King of Limbs and In Rainbows was connected in last night’s set to the earlier more rock guitar-laden sounds of OK Computer by sounds from Hail to the Thief, from which came the next track—”There There.”

“In pitch dark I go walking in your landscape,
Broken branches trip me as I speak,

Just ‘cos you feel it doesn’t mean it’s there…”

The set-list was a smart blend of more recent material and select tracks from earlier albums.  “Feral” is a particurly tasty track with its oscillating synth sounds and snaking basslines.

“This song is called ‘Little By Little,’ announced Thom Yorke, introducing the third track from King of Limbs.  It was another of the various songs last night, which would utilise the full complexity of interplay involving two drummers.  And my brother noted Andre Nickatina having sampled this track.

“Reckoner,” with its incredibly emotional tapestries of introspection and global meditations closed out the set, Thom Yorke’s haunting falsetto wailing and whispering.  

“Thank you, San Jose,” said Thom Yorke, returning to the stage.  I was feasting on some concession stand calories, as my brother went for a smoke break and Radiohead returned to the stage for an encore with “Separator.”  This is the closing track from King of Limbs.  But the night was not complete without a Radiohead classic or two.  

During the band’s first encore, it launched into the pre-9/11 era classic from 2001’s Amnesiac, “I Might Be Wrong,” before a reinvigorated audience.  At this point, the epic human communion was undeniable.

The frenetic frenzy of “Myxomatosis” next kicked into gear.  If the ending wasn’t big enough with “Everything In Its Right Place,” we were all blessed with a second encore.  And the backbone of what really makes Radiohead such a strong band—stripped down brilliant songwriting at the core—shone through the building with “The Daily Mail“:

“The Moonies are up on the mountain
The lunatics have taken over the asylum
Waitin’ on the rapture

Singing, ‘We’re here to keep your prices down,
We’ll feed you to the hounds,
To the Daily Mail, together, together‘

You made a pig’s ear, you made a mistake
Paid off security and got through the gate
You got away with it but we lie in wait

Where’s the truth? What’s the use?
I’m hanging around lost and found
And when you’re here, innocent
Fat chance, no plan
No regard for human life

You’ll keep time, you’ve no right
You’re fast and loose, you will lose
You jumped the queue, you’re back again

President for life, lord of all
The flies in the sky, the beasts of the earth
The fish in the sea

You’ve lost command“

The penultimate song of the evening was a real crowd-pleaser, “Planet Telex,” from Radiohead’s second album, the ’90s-era classic, The Bends.  “Planet Telex” sounded, as if the tempo was considerably slowed from its studio/album recording.  But then that may have only been in contrast to the much more uptempo compositions Radiohead has recorded more recently for In Rainbows and King of Limbs.  And it’s often the case when bands play older material, as with “Karma Police,” the tunes may sound a bit rough, as the musical vibe, is likely in a different aesthetic space.   And, in this case, last night was apparently the first time Radiohead has played “Planet Telex” this tour and the first time it’s even played it live since 2009.  But audiences, who’ve formed such strong bonds with those songs, are invariably audibly appreciative.

Rolling Stone has ranked The Bends #110 within their 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.  I would probably place the album much higher in my personal list of greatest albums of all time, but then my music print, one’s personal collective memory of music, which shapes our musical tastes, was indelibly shaped during the ’90s when, at least for me, popular music seemed to convey some sense of rebellion and subversion.  As for the ’90s, which for me was an incredibly rich musical decade, and for popular music was certainly dominated by post-punk bands, such as Nirvana, Radiohead ably filled the musical void left by the sudden demise of the post-punk legend of Nirvana. 

And when so many bands like Silverchair and Bush were eagerly aping Nirvana’s aesthetics, Radiohead was able to celebrate the sound of heavily-distorted rock guitar sounds and the quiet-loud-quiet dynamics Nirvana, and The Pixies before them, had championed, but do it with originality and with prescient lyricism.  Of the post-Nirvana mid-’90s, it’s hard for me to think of a song, which better captured the zeitgeist than “The Bends.”

“Where do we go from here?
The words are coming out all weird
Where are you now when I need you?
Alone on an aeroplane
Falling asleep against the windowpane
My blood will thicken

I need to wash myself again
To hide all the dirt and pain
‘Cos I’d be scared that there’s nothing underneath
And who are my real friends?
Have they all got the bends?
Am I really sinking, this low?

My baby’s got the bends, oh no
We don’t have any real friends; no, no, no

I’m just lying in a bar with my drip feed on
Talking to my girlfiend
Waiting for something to happen
And I wish it was the ‘60s
I wish we could be happy
I wish, I wish, I wish
That something would happen

Where do we go from here
Tha planet is all gummed up in a sea of fear
And where are you?

They’ve brought in the C.I.A.
The tanks and the whole Marines to blow me away
To blow me sky high

My baby’s got the bends, oh no
We don’t have any real friends; no, no, no

I want to live and breathe
I want to be a part of the human race
I want to live and breathe
I want to be a part of the human race, race, race

Where do we go from here?
The words are coming out all weird
Where are you now when I need you?“

SET LIST — RADIOHEAD @ SAN JOSE HP PAVILION, 11 APR 2012

1. Bloom

2. 15 Step

3. Morning Mr. Magpie

4. Kid A

5. Staircase

6. The Gloaming (Softly Open Our Mouths in the Cold)

7. The National Anthem

8. The Amazing Sounds of Orgy

9. Climbing Up the Walls

10. Karma Police 

11. Identikit

12. Lotus Flower

13. There There

14. Feral

15. Little by Little

16. Reckoner

Encore

17. Separator

18. I Might Be Wrong [tour debut]

19. Myxamatosis

20. Everything In Its Right Place

Final Encore

21. The Daily Mail

22. Planet Telex [tour debut, first performance since 2009]

23. Idioteque

Written by Felipe Messina for Media Roots

Photo by Ramon David Messina

“The Amazing Sounds of Orgy” © 2001 Radiohead

“Morning Mr. Magpie” © 2011 Radiohead

“There There” © 2003 Radiohead

“The Daily Mail” © 2011 Radiohead

“Planet Telex” © 1995 Radiohead

***