Radiohead

Fifteen years. That's how long it had been since Radiohead's first and last appearance in Rome, at the big May Day concert. That's where the tour kicked off on Saturday night, with three more dates still to come (in Florence, Bologna and Villa Manin, Udine). A huge crowd - 26,000 strong - packed the Ippodromo delle Capannelle from the afternoon onward. And the wait turned out to be entirely worth it.

The crush in the first twenty rows is already suffocating by the time Caribou and his band take the stage. Canadian Dan Snaith deals in a very sui generis strain of electro-pop, one that finds its truest dimension live. Despite a flawless performance, the acoustics undermined several moments of the set: the PA pushed out dry, bone-dry beats, stripped of the greasy, driving, sometimes almost trance-like basslines that are one of his trademarks. "Jamelia" still manages to enchant with its velvety stride, and the closing frenzy of "Sun" sweeps everything away: nearly a quarter of an hour of ferociously powerful jamming, with electronic drums and drum machine propping up celestial loops.

A short set from Caribou, then, one that heralds - right on time - the arrival on stage of the five men from Oxford. It's half past nine. Out come Ed O'Brien, Phil Selway, Colin and Jonny Greenwood, Clive Deamer borrowed from Portishead for double-drum duties, and finally Thom Yorke. The LEDs - the stage design is fantastic - light up, first blue, then orange.

The start is devastating: "Lotus Flower" with its dry rhythm, its back-and-forth between beat and stillness. Then, in one breath, "Bloom", the syncopated "15 Step", all the way to the first great communal moment, "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi", performed extraordinarily: the guitar weaving a featherlight texture, Yorke's voice, at times almost whispered, riding the notes, the silence in between, and a chill-inducing descent.

The surprise of “Kid A” and “Morning Mr.Magpie” fly by quickly, while “There There” sails along with remarkable agility, between a driving rhythm section and jagged guitars building to a climax.

The standout moments are truly too many to count: Jonny's bow hints at moves à-la Jonsi (Sigur Rós), then “Pyramid Song” begins in a surreal silence, followed by “Planet Telex”, “Staircase”, “Feral”, before “Idioteque”, one of the highlights of the night. That instantly recognizable beat kicks in, the kind of techno loved even by those who claim to hate techno. The obsessive, almost claustrophobic and alien pulse of that sound, Yorke going wild, thrashing and screaming, a journey of dancing bodies and upturned heads that closes in a flash.

They leave the stage, a few seconds pass, the crowd roars for them, and here they are again. Silence falls once more and “Exit Music (For A Film)” leaves everyone speechless, the piano dictating the tempo before the central explosion of sound. A tender “House Of Cards”, “Daily Mail” (dedicated to Mr. Berlusconi) and the electric power of “Myxomatosis” flow one into the other with astonishing ease, before the frenzy of “Paranoid Android”: in those seven minutes the guitars run riot, the drums march forward relentlessly, the bass swells the ranks of a generational anthem. People scream, applause thunders on.

They come back, climb up again. One last trio of spine-tingling songs: “Give Up The Ghost” and “Recnocker” lay down velvet carpets with their delicate touch, “Everything In Its Right Place” marks a tear-jerking, trance-electronic finale.

(from: IlFattoQuotidiano.it)

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