Radiohead

The pied piper surrenders to his hypnotic dance. It's a prophecy of new ice ages, wolves lying in wait, walls bending until they suck the soul into the twilight. Tonight it almost feels possible to touch the diaphanous disc of the full moon. Moon illusion, astronomers call it: an optical effect that magnifies the size of the moon on the horizon in the last evenings before summer arrives. And even the slight figure of Thom Yorke, on the stage of the Arena in Milan, seems to loom with an unreal grandeur, made up entirely of the evocative power of his voice.

There's still a diffuse glow in the air when the broken rhythms of "Reckoner" and the convulsive dance of "15 Step" tear thoughts away from the relentless march of the city's clock. But it's only with the flood of scarlet lights and the overpowering distortions of "The National Anthem" that you truly realize you're standing in front of Radiohead.

You can hold every legitimate reservation about the current trajectory of Thom Yorke and co., but when they take the stage, it's impossible to deny the sense of being in the presence of a band that inevitably marked the turn of the millennium. Sure, playing in full a record as ultimately by-the-numbers as last year's “In Rainbows” might raise an eyebrow: yet the Oxfordians manage to push the dragging renditions of tracks like “All I Need” and “House Of Cards” into the background, thanks to the force with which they translate the legacy of their journey into a vibrant present.

A plane's golden contrail cuts across the sky as the sun disappears behind the trees of Parco Sempione. The guitars of “Airbag” slice through the electric air, the basslines of “The Gloaming” pulse menacingly, the tremors of “How To Disappear Completely” float like ectoplasm. The tubular lights on stage look like multicoloured tears reaching down towards the earth, perfectly attuned to the music's ebb and explosion.

The acoustic version of “Faust Arp” works its magic, after Thom Yorke had to stop halfway through it at the previous Milan date because of a security guard listening to the radio commentary of the Italy/France match on his headset... “Weird Fishes/ Arpeggi” also gains new power amid lights suspended like blue chandeliers, but it's “Jigsaw Falling Into Place” that proves once again to be the most gripping moment of “In Rainbows”.

The Arena, on the other hand, turns out to be a decidedly poor choice as a concert venue: the stands are too far from the stage, and the need to keep the volume down because of the surrounding houses greatly limits the crowd's involvement beyond the first few rows. And when those further back start trying to climb the fences to get onto the lawn, a chaotic atmosphere builds up that certainly does nothing for the intimacy Radiohead's songs would need. A karaoke effect on the lawn, distracted chatter in the stands: and yet Radiohead's music manages to win out regardless.

A frantic “Dollars & Cents”, the only track drawn from “Amnesiac”, draws an ovation from the crowd, but the evening's first surprise comes from the apocalyptic waltz of “Wolf At The Door”, which Yorke delivers with dark intensity and drive. His voice avoids veering into excessive whining, showing off a passionate confidence, with the band backing him up flawlessly for the full two hours of the show.

To the strains of a stripped-down “Videotape”, the piano comes into play, a Tibetan flag draped over it: the only overtly political gesture of an evening that leaves it to the music alone to forge a connection with the crowd. Then comes the babel of “Everything In Its Right Place”, which leaves you breathless as it morphs into the robotic delirium of a thrilling “Idioteque”.

From the b-sides of the second disc of “In Rainbows” come, for the encores, a blazing “Bangers And Mash” and the hazy keyboards of “Go Slowly”, alongside classics of the calibre of “Just” and “Paranoid Android”. Dreamy and ecstatic, framed by the magnetic jagged edges of Jonny Greenwood's guitar, “The Tourist” sounds like a farewell impossible to tear yourself away from. “Hey man, slow down/ Idiot, slow down”. The moon has never seemed so close.

(26/06/2008)

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