Imagine a world teetering on the edge of collapse, where the soundtrack to our collective anxiety has been eerily predicted by a band of musical prophets. That’s Radiohead for you, and after nearly a decade of silence, they’ve returned not with a whisper, but with a thunderous, unapologetic roar. But here’s where it gets controversial: are they still the harbingers of doom we once knew, or have they evolved into something entirely different? Let’s dive in.
It’s been almost 10 years since Radiohead released new music, and over seven since they last graced a stage. In that time, the world has seemed to hurtle toward the very future their songs once warned us about—pandemics, societal collapse, and an ever-looming sense of dread. Thom Yorke, the band’s frontman, has often been hailed as a modern-day oracle, his lyrics painting vivid pictures of a world on the brink. But is his reputation as a soothsayer deserved, or has it been inflated by the band’s growing legend? And this is the part most people miss: while Yorke’s genius is undeniable, he’s far from the only monumental talent in the lineup. Jonny Greenwood, Colin Greenwood, Phil Selway, and Ed O’Brien each bring their own brilliance to the table, creating a collective force that’s greater than the sum of its parts.
Despite Yorke’s recent ventures with The Smile, a looser, more experimental trio alongside Greenwood and Tom Skinner, fans have been yearning for the full Radiohead experience. Now, without fanfare or new music to promote, the band has reunited for a series of intimate European residencies. Performing in the round, they’ve ditched the typical stage setup for a gossamer projection screen that initially feels like a barrier—but make no mistake, this is no fragile comeback. They’re here to reclaim their throne.
Opening with Let Down, a deep cut from OK Computer that’s found new life on TikTok, Radiohead strikes a peculiar balance between hope and despair. Yorke’s vocals shimmer, while Greenwood’s guitar—played in a different time signature from the rest of the band—adds a layer of complexity. The rhythm section, led by Selway and auxiliary percussionist Clive Deamer, delivers a powerhouse performance that sets the tone for the night. Tracks like 2+2=5, Bloom, and Ful Stop are reimagined with a raw, almost primal energy, proving that Radiohead hasn’t lost its edge.
But here’s the kicker: while their earlier work felt like icy sonic shocks, tonight’s set transforms those tracks into crowd-pleasing anthems. By the time they reach 15 Step, even the upper tiers of the arena are bouncing along, a testament to their enduring appeal. Yorke, now nearly 60, dances with the same frenetic energy he’s always had, his grey beard a stark contrast to his youthful vigor. It’s a reminder that time marches on, but Radiohead’s music remains timeless.
Of course, no Radiohead review would be complete without addressing the elephant in the room: their setlist choices. While purist fans might lament the absence of tracks from A Moon Shaped Pool or The Bends, the inclusion of Fake Plastic Trees—delivered with explosive force—more than makes up for it. And let’s not forget Idioteque, which has completed its 25-year evolution from experimental oddity to dancefloor filler.
Yet, for all their musical prowess, Radiohead’s return raises questions. Why now?```json
{
