Imagine a world on the brink of catastrophe, where artists like Radiohead have long warned us with their haunting visions—now, they're back to confront it all live.
It's been nearly a decade since Radiohead dropped a fresh album, and over seven years since their last stage appearance. In that time, the real world has accelerated toward the dystopian futures their lyrics have eerily predicted: pandemics spread by animals, conflicts with invading forces, bunkers for bombs, relentless downpours, crumbling skies, and failing systems. All of this echoes in the words of their ever-anxious frontman, Thom Yorke.
Yorke's fame as a prophet might be exaggerated by the band's growing legend during their downtime, but he's undeniably talented—if he's a genius (and that's a debate still raging, more about politics than pure music-making), he's not alone. The group boasts other towering figures. Yorke's recent solo brilliance, plus his work with bandmate Jonny Greenwood in their more relaxed outfit The Smile, has kept fans eager. But the true devotees have waited eons for the full quintet to reunite.
And now, out of the blue—no new releases announced, no grand promotions—they're staging brief residencies across select European spots. On stage, they perform in a circular setup, swapping positions behind a delicate projection screen that initially looks protective. But no defenses are necessary; this isn't a tentative comeback.
But here's where it gets controversial: Are they as invincible as they seem, or is this just a polished facade for a band with deep divisions?
They kick off with 'Let Down,' a beloved track from OK Computer, and it's a smart choice. This 'deep cut'—a term for a lesser-known but fan-favorite song—has surged in popularity thanks to TikTok's younger generation, marking Radiohead's biggest viral hit in ages. Its beauty lies in its airy, self-deprecating humor, where Yorke pokes fun at his own dreary tendencies, much like Franz Kafka's witty sarcasm. It passes a torch of cautious optimism from Generation X to Gen Z, blending hope with skepticism.
Live, the vocals shimmer, and Greenwood's guitar, playing in a quirky rhythm that clashes with the rest, gains enormous power from a thunderous rhythm team. This sets the evening's vibe, though the high notes can get muffled in such vast arenas. Drummer Phil Selway, percussionist Clive Deamer, and bassist Colin Greenwood (Jonny's brother) deliver explosive support on mid-to-late career gems like '2+2=5,' 'Bloom,' and 'Ful Stop.'
And this is the part most people miss: Jonny Greenwood's dual nature as the band's hidden gem. He exudes calm charm, like offering a cozy tea, yet his bass and guitar can shift from soulful tenderness to raw intensity. His work has guided listeners through the band's darkest studio tracks, and tonight's picks from Kid A—'Everything In Its Right Place' and 'Idioteque'—show their evolution from chilly, experimental shocks to energetic, crowd-pleasing anthems that fill the floor.
By '15 Step,' even the balcony seats are bouncing to those intricate drum beats, as Yorke reminds us that 'it'—likely aging or mortality—touches everyone. At nearly 60, he's energetic and bearded like a seasoned sailor, jigging about to 'The National Anthem' and its killer bassline he penned as a teenager.
Yorke has long watched icons like Mick Jagger gracefully age, and listened to legacy bands repeat themselves. Radiohead here feels the opposite: vibrant and fresh. Their fans tend to be obsessively loyal and quirky, so some might gripe about skipping more tracks from A Moon Shaped Pool or The Bends. Yet, 'Fake Plastic Trees,' an early hit, erupts with explosive energy far beyond its studio version.
In concerts past, Radiohead seemed relieved to escape the studio's creative strain, which nearly broke them. Tonight's vitality might signal something new, but the joy is palpable for any fan—it's not just entertainment; it's pure elation. Yorke utters little beyond 'gracias.' Critics argue he should speak out more forcefully on global issues, like his refusal to tour Israel—a move that's sparked heated debates: Is he standing up for justice, or alienating fans?
Others fondly recall the jittery young man terrified by early internet-era progress, and they'd still choose him to serenade our frantic modern chaos.
The setlist from their 2025 tour opener:
Let Down
2 + 2 = 5
Sit Down. Stand Up
Bloom
Lucky
Ful Stop
The Gloaming
Myxomatosis
No Surprises
Videotape
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
Everything in Its Right Place
15 Step
The National Anthem
Daydreaming
A Wolf at the Door
Bodysnatchers
Idioteque
Encore
Fake Plastic Trees
Subterranean Homesick Alien
Paranoid Android
How to Disappear Completely
You and Whose Army?
There There
Karma Police
What do you think—does Yorke's activism enhance or detract from Radiohead's legacy? Are they still relevant in today's music scene, or just reliving past glories? Share your thoughts in the comments; I'd love to hear your take!
