REVIEW: Thom Yorke @ Usher Hall, Edinburgh
7/6/18
Walking through the decadent corridors of Edinburgh’s Usher Hall, I couldn’t help but reflect on how this place, likely built to entertain the Scottish aristocracy, had been appropriated and taken over by lager-loving, shoe-gazing Radiohead fans. In the absence of the infamous Tennent’s lager, my plus one and I settled on a couple of cans of craft beer, carefully poured into a plastic cup for the exorbitant, but to be expected price of £4.80 each.
We then made our way into the stalls, meandering through the crowds of eagerly awaited fans and astonishingly making our way to the front-left barrier with relatively little complaint from those we passed on the way. Perhaps it is true that fortune favours the brave.
Positioned just in front of a vintage Waldorf synth explorer, we stood together wrapped with anticipation for the lights to dim and the show to begin. Yorke’s chosen co-conspirators for this tour were none other than Nigel Godrich, a man who is to Radiohead what George Martin was to The Beatles, and Scotland’s own visual artist Tarik Barri.
It was set to be more esoteric spectacle than punters might typically expect from a Radiohead gig and it certainly delivered on this point. From the very first notes of the set there developed a wall of sound that continued almost unbroken for the entire show. Godrich manipulated drum machines, synthesizers and no doubt pushed his digital audio workstation to the absolute limits of its utility, whilst Yorke unleashed his devastating vocal melodies over the top.
At once you felt intoxicated by the layering of Yorke’s voice and Godrich’s indeterminate rhythmic wizardry; against the backdrop of Barri’s transforming, technicolour motion picture. We were pulled down a rabbit hole from the very first instant. Yorke manoeuvred the stage like the mad hatter, occasionally peering into the crowd and planting us to the spot before turning away in laughter.
The first song I recognized was Black Swan from the highly coveted and critically acclaimed debut solo album, The Eraser. It was a welcome reminder that brought me back to reality after the hallucinogenic effects of the first 3 or 4 songs. We were so close to Yorke that I could see the scuffmarks on his off-white Reebok classics. It was a rare treat to see a man who typically plays to crowds of more than 40,000 at such close proximity. This intimacy reinforced the feeling that the audience were extensions of Yorke’s stream of consciousness, observing the genius at work.
As the set wore on there were moments when the soundscape shifted so dramatically, you couldn’t help but wonder if everything was going to plan. But right there to ease your angst was Godrich, nodding his head in complete unison with the evolving dynamics at work. It was everything you’d expect from an evening with Thom Yorke. The infectious head-wobbling, unparalleled musical virtuosity, mildly political subtext and the unmistakable and for my money unmatchable voice that transports the listener to another dimension as it breaks.
The enthusiasm of the adoring Scottish crowd was rewarded with two encores, the second of which I can only presume was occasioned by our unrelenting demands for more! The first encore saw an eruption of all the components that had been bubbling away for the duration of the 2-hour set. The visuals subdivided rapidly, the lights flickered blindingly, Godrich’s rhythm section built up to a frantic but elaborate crescendo and Yorke opened up his throat and released the otherworldly notes we all know and love.
The finale saw Yorke return to the stage alone, drop down to the Waldorf synthesizer and treat us to a beautiful rendition of Radiohead’s Glass Eyes that was meant ‘to take us home’ in his words. All in all, it was a mesmerizing performance, one that saw both Yorke and Godrich at their creative best in a context where you got to see the genius up close and personal. It was a night that would reinforce any fan’s devotion, and certainly one to remember.
