I Think You're Crazy, Maybe
Over the years, I've met people who've seen Radiohead over 30 times, who've travelled across the country to see them, across the world to see them, who've sat in line-ups for over 20 hours to see them. In comparison to these people, I am just your regular above-average fan. Exceptionally normal in my Radiohead fandom. However, upon leaving this little bubble of obssession, I have discovered how my "mediocre" enthusiasm is a little....well, insane. And as I booked my flight down, I realized how few would trek down to San Francisco on fairly short notice to see Radiohead both nights they play Berkeley - especially after having already seen them 12 times.
Night One:
I did agree to forgo the craziness of waiting all day in line and on the first night took a mature seat with Adam and Pat toward the back, but did so with two fellow Radiohead fanatics in tow - Robin and Roxy whom I had met on the first pilgrimage in 2002. And pretty early on, it became abundantly clear to Robin, Roxy and me that most people around us simply couldn't contend with our enthusiasm. We recognized the songs a good 10 seconds before everyone else, we even knew all the new material. We clapped along in the right places, we sushed during the quiet songs, we jumped up for the stompers. In short, we must have been quite annoying.
Anyway, Berkeley Night 1 was a great show, but it was just not.....what I remembered. "Oh God. Oh no. Is the magic gone? Am I just too old for this now?," I worried.
Some people accept turning points in their life with a logical matter-of-factness: "that Santa Claus thing was nice but now it's gone". Some revel in the maturity these moments provide: "that Santa Claus thing is only for kids". But people like me, we despair; to simply grow out of such magic is terrible and awful. I remember how desperately I willed Santa to remain real in my mind, and the gnawing pit in my stomach night felt remarkably similar. Robin and Roxy felt the same way - none of us wanted to be negative but we found ourselves spending the concert afterglow excusing the performance (much to the chagrin of Adam and Pat).
Night Two:
Adam and Pat (who are much more mature and moderate than me) decided that the show the night before was more than good enough and they had better things to do with their evening and so they sold their extra tickets. I met up with the lovely DB to catch Show #2, desperate and determined that this night would live up to my expectations. We decided to stand much closer to the stage this time, and made our way awkwardly to the back of the pit. We found everyone standing around us annoying - not a good sign.
The lights went down. I drew a deep breath.
And Berkeley Night 2 blew my mind. The raw-edged chords of "Airbag" opened the show with an amazing energy and I could almost feel my heart buoy as they then launched straight into "2+2=5". With intensity to burn, the five boys from Oxford killed the new songs and delivered a pile of surprises - “Kid A”, “Black Star”, "Fake Pastic Trees", and “True Love Waits” on the Rhodes. [Many people question the logic of seeing a band two nights in a row, assuming it would get boring - these people don't know Radiohead's amazing catalogue. Over the two nights (save the new songs) only one song was repeated and that song was markedly different one night from the next: Setlist 1 vs. Setlist 2]
They closed the second encore with the ultra rare "The Tourist", one of the few songs I had never heard before. "Yes Aleksandra, there is a Santa Claus." A light fog rolled in and tears slid down my cheeks. Magic.
The last two minutes of Fake Plastic Trees:
posted by Aleksandra @ 12:22 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home