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Nick Morgan and crew
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Concert
Review by Nick Morgan |
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RADIOHEAD
Victoria Park, London, Wednesday 25th June, 2008
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| We’re
down in the East End in London’s famous Victoria
Park, over 200 acres of Victorian green space feeding
the lungs of this traditionally working-class district
of the metropolis. Given that the site of the 2012
Olympics isn’t far away, old Vicky Park has
its part to play, having been chosen to host the
Games’ Global Gourmet Village, one of the
major attractions that is expected to cause thousands
of visitors to flock to this otherwise neglected
area. And you would expect so too, wouldn’t
you? Nearby you can find some of the most traditional,
and some would say distinguished,
cuisine in the capital. But of course, the Olympiad
is about London now, so the Gourmet Village, of
which we’re privileged tonight to be some
of the first patrons, really reflects what’s
best about eating in London today. |
| It’s
a showcase for the city that can boast Gordon Ramsay,
Jamie Oliver, Marco Pierre White, Giorgio Locatelli,
Richard Corrigan and Tom Aikens. And I suspect that
is why there is a large and garrulous group of French
guys (not seen in these parts since 1066 or thereabouts)
behind us, apparently on a gourmet pilgrimage to
this very epicentre of epicurean excellence. Or
maybe they’ve come to see Radiohead. |
| In
case you don’t know, Radiohead, as we see
it from this side of the Atlantic, are “one
of the biggest rock bands in the world”. They’re
massive. And there are around twenty thousand people
here (that’s about the capacity of London’s
ghastly O2 arena) who would confirm that. I couldn’t
say really – I’m bound to have a copy
of their ground-breaking OK Computer album somewhere
and as a matter of due diligence just prior to this
gig bought the new In Rainbows (apparently their
most accessible album in years, and which you could
download for whatever price you cared to pay). But
for all their overpowering omnipresence, they haven’t
really registered with me. Of course I know about
the media-friendly tousle-haired and perennially
unshaven lead singer Thom Yorke, who speaks fluently
and often sensibly on a range of ‘Green’
issues, but that’s about it. I can promise
you that my copy of In Rainbows will be for sale
in the local
charity shop before Christmas. So why am I here?
Well it’s not for the grub. Mainly I’m
fulfilling a Christmas promise, the recipient of
which has rushed to the front of the stage in a
state of unbridled frenzy. But I’m also here
to tell you what “one of the biggest rock
bands in the world” sounds like. |
| The
joke is that we’re standing so far back from
the stage that the band have finished every song
before we hear the start of it. Mildly funny, but
not true. The sound quality is remarkable, well
mixed and balanced, with a crystal clarity, only
occasionally being blown away in the breeze of what
turns out to be a chilly evening. Lucky for us there’s
some bloke with a tea urn nearby, so in a tribute
to rock and roll excess we sip milky builder’s
tea as Radiohead go through their paces. Let
me summarise the gig (you can get all the details
here).
In almost two-and-a-half hours they played twenty-five
songs – and I was surprised (not knowing any
better) at how well these were structured (even
the most apparently unstructured) and how tightly
they were performed. Forty per cent came from In
Rainbows – actually they played the whole
lot – and 16% each from Kid A and OK Computer,
perhaps their best- known works. Yorke does have
the most unusual voice, which can range from positively
tuneless to positively captivating – he was
working hard, singing around 3,716 words, which
is 9% more than usual. Oh yes, in case you were
wondering, the very effective stage lighting (an
LED system), used 140A 3phase compared with the
600A 3phase system they used on their last tour.
And Thom Yorke was wearing striking red trousers,
more suited to a regatta than a rock concert, but
at least it meant that we could see him in the distance.
The final song was Paranoid Abdroid. Need to know
any more? |
| I
did wonder how many minor chords innovative guitarist
Johnny Greenwood and his cronies played during the
set, which was at best mildly melancholic, even
when it rocked (and they really can rock, driven
by Phil Selway’s powerful drumming). |
| The
overwhelming sense of misery wasn’t helped
by Yorke’s voice. So when they ventured into
more melodic territories there were occasional striking
echoes of Glasgow’s angst and guilt-ridden
Blue Nile, and for what it’s worth in their
earlier material strong suggestions of a considerable
debt to the Beatles’ White Album. But we were
kept in cheery mood by our new French friends, who
had moved on from gourmet delights to in-depth samplings
of Carling Black Label, the beer franchise holders
for the event. As every song finished they chorused
“à poil” at the top of their
voices, explaining later that “at rock concerts
in France there’s always some jerk who shouts
‘à poil’ at the end of each song”.
Well, in this case there were about eight jerks,
but as they were loving every minute of it would
have been churlish to complain. |
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|
Practicalities come into play at an event like this
– have you ever tried to get a tube from Mile
End Station at 11.00pm along with twenty thousand
others? So the giftee, as briefed, emerged from
the throng at the start of the second encore, positioning
us for a prompt departure. He was equally ecstatic
and furious, so here’s a fans-eye view. The
band, “fantastic”, “great to hear
the new songs live”, “some old tunes
I’d never heard them play before”, “Johnny
Greenwood’s just brilliant”. The audience
“a bunch of London t***s”, “no
one was doing anything”, “middle class
tossers who’d just come because they read
about it in the Observer” (steady on son,
that’s a bit close to home), “some of
the w*****s were wearing suits and drinking Pimms”
and so on, a view which I notice was shared on a
number of the various on-line forums about the band.
But that I suppose is what happens when you become
“one of the biggest rock bands in the world”,
or for that matter when any brand (yes, brand, not
band) moves from a niche discerning positioning
to one that is more ubiquitous. Hang on, that reminds
me … - Nick Morgan (concert photographs
by Kate and Nick's iPhone) |
Check
the index of all reviews:
Nick's Concert Reviews
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There's nothing more down there... |
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