5-23-06, 8:46 am
Radiohead: At ease at last LIVE: Radiohead Empress Ballroom, Blackpool Interview by Morning Star writer ALEXANDER CANWATH
They may be the most neurotic and feverishly innovative band of the last 15 years, but Radiohead seem to have settled quite comfortably into their role as elder statesmen of rock.
In between having kids and doing solo projects, the band members are working at a leisurely pace on their new album and have time to set off for pleasant jaunts like this evening at the seaside.
Performing in front of a backdrop of odd-shaped screens that relay images of the band like shards of a smashed mirror, Radiohead serve up a set full of angst-ridden treats.
The electronica-tinged songs from the Kid A sessions, once regarded with suspicion by some of Radiohead's fanbase, have long since become live classics.
Opener The National Anthem, with its moody ambience, cut-up drums and fuzz bass, becomes an unlikely singalong, the crowd bellowing: 'Everyone is so near, everyone has got the fear' joyously.
Tonight's beefed-up version of Idioteque prompts frenzied raving from some people on the balcony - not something that used to be thought possible.
Even the dense keyboard textures of Everything in its Right Place provoke rhythmic clapping, evidence of how smoothly the once awkward tracks from Kid A and Amnesiac have been assimilated into the Radiohead canon.
The band are also more at ease with their old material. Songs from The Bends and OK Computer used to be ticked off perfunctorily, a grudging attempt to sweeten the pill of Kid A, but, here, the band dip into their back catalogue and reprise old favourites with relish.
It helps that they've got so many songs to choose from. Black Star gets a rare outing, the sinister Climbing up the Walls is preferred to Karma Police, but even Radiohead staples such as Paranoid Android are played with a new sense of passion.
Yorke's vocal fidgets, elongating some words, spitting out others, wrings new resonances from these songs and prevents the gig from becoming too cosily nostalgic.
Only Lucky, as efficient an exercise in stadium-rock transcendence as you'll hear, feels over familiar and has lost some of its magic.
So what of the new stuff? It's a question that was asked more with anxiety than anticipation by fans six years ago.
The songs sound relaxed rather than out to score points, allowing the band's writing skills to shine through.
In many cases, the guitars are back, though the songs are still based around grooves and sampled beats rather than melodies.
Bodysnatchers comes across like a more frantic version of Amnesiac's I Might Be Wrong, its swampy riff building to a manic climax.
Others have been knocking around in different versions for some years and bear Radiohead's anthemic hallmarks.
The gorgeous Nude is a slow-burning lament, set to minimalist bass and drums, that unfurls into a beautiful, haunting chorus, Yorke's voice ringing with disappointment and consolation.
But others are more surprising. On House of Cards, a lovely soul-inflected song, Yorke comes over like Prince on the lines 'I don't want to be your friend, I just want to be your lover.'
And on the jerky, post-punk Bangers 'n' Mash, Yorke takes inexplicably to a set of drums midway through.
Radiohead haven't stopped moving forward, but they do wear their innovation more lightly.
They return to their back catalogue to round things off. A glorious version of OK Computer's The Tourist finishes with Jonny Greenwood's sky-bound guitar solo subsiding into the patter and tish of Phil Selway's drum coda.
Then Radiohead leave the stage, smiles all round. They look like a band comfortable with their past and, more importantly, comfortable with their future.
From Morning Star
