IF this was the warm-up I can't wait to really feel the heat. Two day before their Big Day Out in Galway, Radiohead played a "low key" gig at Dublin's Olympia last night, hitting a high from the moment they sneaked onstage. Tickets for this wing ding sold out in 20 minutes, but Dublin's blag brigade still managed to get in to the most sought after show in town.
As if in anticipation of Radiohead's triumphant return, all the seats in the Olympia had been removed, 5, when the diminutive Thom Yorke strolled on with his five accomplices, everybody was already on their feet and ready to rock. My Iron Lung gave it to them straight in the solar plexus, the band slowly building on a psychedelic Beatles style riff before piling on the chord crashes.
It only took a couple of minutes to realise we were in the intimate presence of impending greatness, and we'd better enjoy it before the whole thing goes ballistic. If U2 had played the Baggot Inn before going out on Zoo TV, they might have had the same impact, but not even The Edge, great though he is, could have matched the triple guitar assault of Yorke, Ed O'Brien and Jonny, as they threw themselves into the DIY aesthetic of Anyone Can Play Guitar.
But enough of the U2 comparisons (Thom Yorke will never be Bono, and we certainly don't need him to be). As he begins the first of many new songs tonight, it becomes apparent that Radiohead's songs don't hang on the cult of personality and the fact that they're being sung by an awkward little Englishman with a slight squint only proves the power and pride of the songs themselves. These are anthems for misanthropists, songs for all the alienated world to sing, and the crowd at the Olympia shout every tortured line as if they were soul saving hymns, nearly drowning Yorke out during the power ballad extraordinaire, High + Dry.
When the band begins the plaintive intro to C.R.E.E.P, however, things really start to go star shaped, and as Yorke spits out that famous line, "You're so F**ing special!", Jonny underlines the invective with some killer guitar chops. Street Spirit calms things a litte, floating off into a chant, and then everything gets twisted and torn for The Bends, before self destructing in an explosive Just.
The encore dips back into the first album, Pablo Honey, then moves into the organic swirl of Fake Plastic Trees, ending with the frenzied finality of Black Star.
The last time Radiohead played Dublin, they were just another creepy Brit guitar band last night they proved that, although anyone can play guitar, it takes someone special to make it real.
