Content warning: Mentions of suicide
I became obsessed with Radiohead during my sophomore year of high school. Enthralled by their eccentric sound and sonic evolution, I meandered through their albums, learning multiple songs on piano and guitar and sharing what I loved about their music with anyone who would listen. To my despair, I found out that the last time they toured had been three years prior. As an avid concert-goer, I was heartbroken — that is, until they announced a tour this September, their first in seven years. But to my despair yet again, the tour was announced to only be taking place in Europe. It’s okay, though, because throughout the years I’ve lived my dream concert experience through an array of YouTube videos of live performances. What I realized through my digital excursions is that what draws me to Radiohead is their ability to consistently find new ways to reinvent their music live. These are four of the songs best emulating their live artistry.
“Bloom” from The King of Limbs
Like most fans, I didn’t grasp The King of Limbs on the first listen, and the album’s opener, “Bloom,” was no exception. For a band that had written so much music about the human experience, a song like “Bloom” felt disjointed in their catalogue. With its messy amalgamation of cold electronic and percussion loops, it failed to captivate me — until I heard the “From the Basement” version. While the album version feels rigid and repetitive, the live rendition allows listeners to hear the band carefully construct each layer of the song, as if they are weaving a tapestry of sound. The intricacy of the polyrhythmic texture becomes clearer as it is human-made, a testament to Radiohead’s ability to reproduce their most layered and complex songs live. Unlike the studio version, where tension underlies the whole track, the live version features a more fulfilling climax through Thom Yorke’s impassioned wails and a horn line that feels like a wave washing over you. When I listen to this live version, I typically close my eyes and let the music envelop me, basking in the atmosphere Radiohead creates.
“Videotape” from In Rainbows
This version of “Videotape” from Bonnaroo 2006 is arguably one of their best live renditions of all time, despite also being one of their most unknown. “Videotape” always entranced me through its interesting syncopation and skeletal structure, coupled with its grim meaning. Lyrically, it’s about someone recording a video to say goodbye before they commit suicide, because they can’t do it face-to-face. The Bonnaroo version was the demo played on tour in 2006, before it was officially released on In Rainbows, and it’s totally different from the studio version. What began as the same melancholic opening with just Yorke became the piano gradually building with an added melodic guitar line and upbeat percussion. When they reach the lyrical peak, singing “this is my way of saying goodbye,” jolts of distorted guitar burst in and Yorke’s vocals lift off. At this point in the studio version, the song begins its descent, conveying a sense of resoluteness in the narrator’s decision — but the live version has a viciousness, even a hopefulness, that sounds like they’re fighting back. This all leads into one of my favorite moments in Radiohead’s entire discography: a simple guitar line that adds to one final push. “Videotape” is one of those songs that truly stops you in your tracks, studio or live, but it always impresses me that Radiohead can adapt their darkness and transform it into light.
“True Love Waits” from A Moon Shaped Pool
Contrary to “Videotape,” the live version of “True Love Waits,” specifically the performance from Oslo, is one that fans are well aware of and have been waiting for for 21 years. When Radiohead first played this song live in 1995, it was just Yorke and an acoustic guitar. The official release on 2016’s A Moon Shaped Pool took an instrumental 180, featuring a dreary, serpentine piano line with Yorke’s hushed vocals. The studio version feels intricately put together, but I don’t hear the same raw emotion that’s in the Oslo version. Yorke’s added crescendos on lines like “I’m not living / I’m just killing time” and “don’t leave,” coupled with the fervent strumming, make the song feel like it’s growing wings. It’s a more hopeful plea that balances the intense feelings so present in Radiohead’s music. The studio version might be coming from someone with more experience or retrospect, but I feel drawn to the Oslo version because Yorke is just getting it all out. Yorke at his simplest, yet rawest.
“The National Anthem” from Kid A
What makes the live version of “The National Anthem” so special is that its basic structure allows it to be made up on the spot; this version from Reading and Leeds 2009 is absolutely electric. While Phil Selway and Colin Greenwood lay down a mechanical backing of fuzzy bass and drums, lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood uses a radio to tune into local radio stations and then distorts the audio using delay and reverb effects to add to the sci-fi-y soundscape. It’s impressive because nothing is prerecorded — Greenwood adapts to whatever audio he gets. He then walks over to his Ondes Martenot and adds screeches that sound like they’re from a different planet, while Yorke scats the melody from the explosive free-jazz section in the studio version. Yorke also adds new lyrics, repeating “I feel love” as the song’s closing refrain, making it feel like it’s blooming. Watching Greenwood work like a mad scientist makes this live piece worthwhile, and taken with Yorke’s additions, exemplifies the mastery that Radiohead has in reinventing their music.
In an age where much music listening happens online, through algorithms and polished studio versions, live music feels essential for both artists and audiences. Artists can build their legacies and showcase their authenticity and creativity; audiences get memorable and emotional experiences that are irreplaceable. Live music can bend expectations of an artist’s music, allowing them to fuse genres and create new arrangements. Sure, there’s more room for imperfection, and sometimes changing a studio version that took years to craft seems pointless, but the human side of a live performance is exciting and far more valuable than a wrong note or voice crack. That’s what draws me even further into Radiohead: not only do they experiment with their recorded music, but they find ways to keep innovating and making music meaningful on stage, even if it requires trial and error. They are true artists. Radiohead has never done what was expected of them and stopped there. They defied music conventions and have constructed a discography that will remain individualistic, imaginative and a powerful illustration of why live music is so important.
Daily Arts Contributor Tobin Saxton can be reached at tobinsax@umich.edu.
