Manhole covers exploding! Three-alarm fires! The threat of carbon monoxide poisoning! If it were any other band, I would have had doubts that the actual Atoms for Peace show could top the random events that came before it.
I emerged blinking and mildly disoriented, as one does, from the 7th Ave. B subway stop a little after 6 p.m. Tuesday, hoping to pick up my will call tix for Atoms for Peace from Roseland quickly and grab a bite to eat before the show. The only warning of the chaos awaiting was the comment by a tourist type to her companion as they exited in front of me: "Well, we found the fire."
Sure enough. Some random only-in-New-York transformer-blowing-up-manhole-cover-exploding thing had just happened, right smack dab in front of Roseland. 52nd Street was blocked off, along with several blocks of Broadway. Hordes of firemen were standing around in full gear. Dazed groups of tourists were sitting on their suitcases pondering the likelihood of being able to check into their hotels. The line to get into the Atoms for Peace show was winding along the back of Roseland along 53rd, rather than the front.
After fending off somebody who wanted to know if I was in line for Jersey Boys (later canceled) and hearing that there would be no word on whether or not the show was a go until 7 p.m., I opted not to torment myself by standing in line, and toddled off to dinner. There, I irked my companions by puttering around on my Blackberry trying to figure out what the hey was going on until a kind gent at a nearby table let us know that his friend, in line for the show, had tweeted that it was ON! but delayed half an hour (finally, I see the utility of Twitter...).
Back to Roseland, where the club had shifted their box office to a folding table outside the 53rd Street entrance. Chaos, yes, but organizedly so, with everyone basically filtering in through one small back door.
Inside, perhaps strangest was how normal everything was. Thom Yorke, looking as if he had climbed out of bed and wandered straight onto stage, addressed the day's events in normal understated fashion, declaring, "Well, that was an interesting afternoon." He and Flea and those other guys in the band then proceeded to create a cocoon of sound that blocked out every last New York distraction.
I was most curious at this show to see how Flea's hard-driving vibe would fit in with Thom's subtler one. While there were a few moments of "This Is Flea. Playing Bass. Watch, And Learn," it worked well for the most part. In fact, some of those bass licks on the Eraser seem made for him. The two men even dance sorta the same weird half-crazed way, making for an odd stage spectacle.
But the highlights of the show for me lay elsewhere. One came on "Skip Divided," where Flea used a blow-organ to lay down the harmony that Thom hums on the recorded version, leaving Thom to half-rap the lyrics and try to figure out what to do with his arms. Reminiscent of Amnesiac-era Radiohead, I came away with a new "so THAT's what that can sound like live" appreciation of the song.
The other was the solo version of "Everything In Its Right Place" that Thom did during the encore. Radiohead tends to swing through New York towards the middle or end of tours, as I recall, when the band is a little grumpy and Thom's voice is wearing down. But with this particular show on night two of the tour, Thom's voice was the purest I have heard it (I'm not sure I'd want to hear him attempt the opening notes on "Hollow Earth," for instance, even a few more shows into the tour), making everything, but "Everything In Its Right Place" in particular, sound like it was being beamed straight from heaven.
Was it Radiohead? No. But definitely the next best thing.
Videos from someone awesome named AllBearsRule's YouTube channel, embedded below.
Friday, April 09, 2010
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