Atoms For Peace

We admit it. It's hard to be impartial when you're a true "fan" of an artist's work for many years and have faithfully followed their stylistic evolution over time. So, even though many turned up their noses at the first Atoms For Peace album, “Amok“, or at the previous “The Eraser”, credited to Yorke alone, the arrival of a Yorke "solo" show still strikes us as a major event.

It's true that it's hard to listen to “Amok” from start to finish without running the risk of dozing off at some point (a fairly serious issue given its relatively short runtime), but there are still four admirable tracks in there: “Before Your Very Eyes”, “Ingenue”, “Stuck Together Pieces” and the title track, “Amok”.

Four tracks in which the drive toward ever more essential musical abstraction begun with the last Radiohead album, "The King Of Limbs" by Radiohead (perhaps even more so than with "Kid A") never tips over into tiresome intellectualism, but instead retains a strong instinctive sense of beauty — whether through the elegance of melodies stripped down to the bone, the sustained rhythmic drive (both traits inherited from "The King Of Limbs"), or Yorke's ethereal yet desolate delivery, ever more detached from everyday reality. So the curiosity to hear how these songs translate live runs high.

Amid the Atoms For Peace's carefully rationed run of shows comes the Munich date (just two performances in Germany, as with Italy), the fourth worldwide. The crowd isn't huge, and promotion for the event has been kept deliberately low-key (it's as if Atoms For Peace are doing everything they can to keep casual listeners at bay). Still, it's sizeable enough to reach a satisfying critical mass.

The support act, Owiny Sigoma Band, immediately warms up the crowd with their international ethnic touch, pulling everyone into dancing with world-music instruments and chants, and sporting a genuinely striking Blues Brothers-meets-Uncle Tom's Cabin look. The moment they step on stage, it's clear this is going to be fun.

Opening with this kind of support act isn't as out of place as one might initially expect. Indeed, once the headliners take the stage, it becomes clear just how far Atoms For Peace's show is from being withdrawn and ethereal — instead it's rhythmic and energetic from start to finish.

While listening to "Amok" requires a certain amount of relaxation beforehand and psychological preparation for concentrated listening, the album's tracks played live are a different matter entirely. In short, Atoms For Peace genuinely want their audience to dance. This shouldn't be read as a superficially crowd-pleasing, accommodating move, but rather as the result of careful study into the value and power of rhythm; this becomes especially clear in the performances of "And It Rained All Night" and "Skip Divided", which we'll hear stripped down to the pure essence of a heartbeat.

The instrument that dominates the whole show turns out to be Flea's bass, far more prominent live than on the studio album. And speaking of Flea, it's worth noting straight away the biggest novelty of this project: Thom is no longer "alone" on stage. Because you don't have to be anything but a casual listener to recognize the faces of the other Radiohead members, while it takes a truly hardcore fan — like yours truly — to actually know their names.

At Radiohead shows, the other four capable lads tend to stick to playing their instruments as scenic background figures. But now Thom has to contend with a serious rival. From the moment the two protagonists step on stage, it's clear things are about to get intense: Thom is immediately followed by a Flea dressed in a shirt and voluminous black bottoms that create a long-tunic effect, out from under which peek two stubby tennis shoes with rolled-up tube socks attached, to rather comic effect. It soon becomes clear, though, that this tunic effect is anything but modest, since Flea, thrashing about like a man possessed on stage the whole time, casually flaunts a slit riding dangerously high, to the point that it's genuinely hard to tell whether he's wearing anything underneath at all (a question that wouldn't even arise with anyone else, but with Flea it's entirely legitimate...).

And from then on, Thom's epileptic movements are no longer alone on stage — they have to compete with the convulsions of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' bassist. And since his laid-back swagger can't help but come across as terribly endearing to the audience... Thom can't afford to be outdone: he winks, blows kisses to the crowd, flashes smiles, throws out magnetic glances. In short, this is certainly not an autistic Thom, lost in his own existential anguish. The overall impression instead is of someone having an absolute blast flirting with the audience like a born seducer, letting himself be influenced by the rough American "guy from the wrong side of town" at his side (is there a new "Bowie–Pop" duo on the loose?).

What we've called competition is of course really nothing more than the crossed, virtuosic domination of the stage by two giants playing together, so that the "clash" happens not because it's intended, but simply as the inevitable byproduct of two superstars sharing the same playing field. The rapport between the musicians and the front rows is truly remarkable, with enthusiasm flowing back and forth between them. With two such passionate entertainers (!) and these newly energized arrangements, it's genuinely impossible to either get distracted or stand still.

The impression is that Yorke recorded Amok for a reason similar to why Lou Reed made "Metal Machine Music": to shake off unwanted followers. But to those who have faithfully stuck with him, he then warmly gives back all his gratitude and affection.

At one point he fumbles the final refrain of "Harrowdown Hill", a mistake that could prove fatal since it risks throwing off the timing needed to lead into the suspended moment before the closing coda; he notices just in time, flashes a little smile that seems to say "Well, that's that, then!", and with a stroke of sheer skill manages within a few seconds to fake an epileptic fit at the microphone, spewing out a frantic stream-of-consciousness babble, and in doing so manages to land back on the right line. Genuinely remarkable reflexes and professionalism.

Flea, for his part, often seems to have sound issues, repeatedly seeking help from the technicians between one convulsive lurch and the next.

In short, the two "showmen" may occasionally look like they're in a trance, but in reality they're fully aware and never lose their grip on the situation.

Overall, Yorke's vocal performance abandons the ethereal, unreachable layers into which it had withdrawn in the studio, coming back down here with its feet more firmly on the ground. Instead of the intimate whisper of the album, we get a fairly full voice that pushes into the notes and makes itself heard.

The other important presence, less visually prominent than Yorke's and Flea's and far less known to non-insiders, is Nigel Godrich, Radiohead's longtime producer, who — there's no denying it — is effectively the band's sixth member (the seventh being their trusted artwork creator, Stanley Donwood). We all know that, without Godrich, there probably wouldn't be Radiohead, at least not this Radiohead. But who knows — maybe Atoms For Peace could exist just the same; after all, his production isn't really the most interesting element of "Amok", which in fact sounds a bit too mannered and self-satisfied (and while Godrich has always worked wonders for Yorke, with or without Radiohead, to be fair we should calmly restate the obvious: no matter how extraordinarily gifted someone is, not everything they produce in a lifetime can always bear the mark of genius).

Either way, Godrich steps into the spotlight and finally claims his moment of glory as a formally recognized member, if not quite of Radiohead, then at least of this side project (assuming we want to call it that — let's not forget we're talking about a "supergroup"). And not content with staying in the background on keyboards or synths, he eventually grabs a guitar and takes his place in the front line alongside Thom and Flea.

Besides performing the new album, they also revisit almost all of “Eraser”, with the exception of the title track and “Analyse” (the latter's absence is especially disappointing to this writer).

It's “Black Swan” from that album that closes the second encore of an intense but not particularly long show (the audience's ovation keeps insistently calling them back out, but to no avail — after all, the two frontmen, no longer exactly young, must be pretty tired after expending so much energy…). This track follows an identically titled “Atoms For Peace” performed by Flea on a bass model usually played by Paul McCartney.

The setlist is therefore fairly predictable, but worth noting is the pleasant surprise of “Rabbit In Your Headlights”, a magnificent track produced by an earlier side project of Yorke's, UNKLE. And with this track Flea finally gets his own chance to step up to the microphone (the very same microphone as Yorke!) to deliver the spoken-word part within it. That's right: Thom is no longer alone on stage, but he doesn't seem to mind that at all…

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