So far, there appears to be an obvious pivot point, and that is their sixth record, Hail To The Thief. The music from that album, and the ones that come after, have translated the best. Whereas the songs from before, particularly the ’90s material, have sometimes sounded a little creaky. Not that I blame them for that. Radiohead, like all of us, is older now. Video of Thom Yorke dad-dancing to “Idioteque” went viral last week, and while our guy has never been Prince or Michael Jackson, it was striking how much he looked, well, like me up there. Seeing Radiohead now is like catching up with high school friends you haven’t seen outside of Facebook or Instagram since you had your own kids.
When they play something off The Bends or even OK Computer, you can feel the tempos lag a bit, like they do for all bands where the musicians are transitioning from “middle” to “old” age. Which is why the idea of Radiohead dusting off “Planet Telex” or “(Nice Dream)” is somewhat better in theory than practice. It made me think of the excellent live record they put out this year, Hail To The Thief (Live Recordings 2003-09), which captures this band at the absolute height of their powers, when being in Radiohead was their full-time job. No slack tempos on that record, I can tell you. (Yorke’s voice, on the other hand, is remarkably well preserved.)
My mind also flashes on one of the most memorable quotes from that Sunday Times article, from the normally reticent Colin Greenwood, who says at one point, poignantly and honestly, “This music has very little to do with us anymore.” I imagine that’s especially true of the (still magnificent!) music they made in their 20s. So, it stands to reason that the music from the 21st century, while not exactly “recent,” comes off better. Their first show back, for instance, kicked into a different gear with the fifth number, the Motorik rocker “Ful Stop” from A Moon Shaped Pool, which segued beautifully into two Hail To The Thief tracks, “The Gloaming” and “Myxomatosis.” Later, a suite of songs from In Rainbows delivered another high, with the always stunning “Videotape” leading into the always stunning “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi,” with a pit stop at “Everything In Its Right Place” before launching into a slinky “15 Step.”
As the shows have progressed, they have settled more or less into setlists heavy on post-2003 material, with occasional crowd-pleasers from before distributed throughout. The showstoppers are what you would expect — “Pyramid Song,” I apologize for ever saying any other Radiohead song is better than you — though it’s fun to remember the ones you forgot were also outstanding. (Talking about you, “Separator”). Watching the videos, it’s hard to discern how much these guys are truly vibing on one another or whether they’re simply operating on muscle memory. (The curious decision to open the concert from behind video screens that eventually rise above the band after about a half hour, Pink Floyd-style, makes them literally difficult to see at all.) But either way, they remain an incredibly potent and skilled live band, no matter their rustiness or wear on the tires.
Is that enough? Some of the press coverage (including this column, I suppose) have fretted about this being Radiohead’s “legacy band” phase, where they finally resort to subsisting on their history rather than grasping for new sounds, horizons, and challenges. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the material that’s worked the best so far happens to resemble the groovier, riff-heavy style of The Smile, the prolific Thom-and-Jonny band that’s made Radiohead feel like the side project this decade. Is a version of Radiohead that’s not trying to be innovative still Radiohead? Is it just a brand kept alive to sell tickets at this point? If not, what is the point of them still existing?
These are all relevant questions. But they’re not the ones I am most interested in at the moment. That one is simply: Can this tour please come to America?
