Radiohead deliver a spell-binding, hit-packed set in London

“Whenever you’re ready,” says Thom Yorke, adopting the tone of a schoolteacher waiting for an unruly class to settle down, as Radiohead get ready to play their encore at London’s O2 Arena.

It’s a rare flash of humour from the frontman, whose onstage utterings are mostly limited to mumbled “thank yous”. But it’s also an acknowledgment of how long fans have been waiting for this show.

It is now 10 years since Radiohead last released new material, and 99 months since their last UK gig.

Anticipation for their return has been building ever since they announced a limited run of concerts in September. Setlists from early shows in Spain and Italy have generated news stories (“Radiohead play Nice Dream for the first time since 2009”), as fans pore over the song choices.

According to one source, they’ve rehearsed 65 different numbers.

At the O2, the band sift through their entire discography – from the arena rock anthems of 1994’s The Bends to the celestial ballads of A Moon Shaped Pool, via the layered electronics of Kid A, currently celebrating its 25th anniversary.

There are some signs that Radiohead are a bit rusty. A few timing and tuning issues crop up, which could easily be the result of a first night in a new venue, but which feel odd for a band of such technical proficiency.

But when it comes together, it’s a rapturous, spell-binding sight.

They begin with the spacey, hypnotic Planet Telex, and follow it up with a crunchy version of 2+2=5, written in 2003 as a reaction to George W Bush’s “War on Terror”, and taking on new urgency in a world where political norms have seemingly been turned upside down.

By the third song, Sit Down, Stand Up, they’re flexing their musical muscles, with an extended outro of percussive lunacy, aided by US session musician Chris Vatalaro.

His addition to the line-up is a giveaway. Radiohead’s secret sauce has always been their rhythm section – who manage to locate sinewy, danceable grooves even when presented with their bandmate’s most challenging material.

The prowling bassline of National Anthem and the slamming drum loops of Idioteque, in particular, give the audience ample opportunity to jump up and down.

That said, it’s amusing to watch bassist Colin Greenwood try (and fail) to get the crowd clapping in time to the glitchy and unconventional rhythms of 15 Step.

Instead, most of them simply bob their heads up and down in unified appreciation of the music. At times, it looks like a convention of nodding dogs.

Cushioned between the more experimental songs, however, were the real crowd-pleasers: An elegiac version of Lucky, a beautifully twisted No Surprises and a genuinely sublime version of Weird Fishes/Arpeggi.

I have a theory, however, that the band’s notorious dislike of “the old stuff” is an elaborate ruse. They’ve never really stopped playing songs from The Bends and OK Computer – but the suggestion they won’t makes it all the more exciting when they break into something anthemic like Fake Plastic Trees.

That song opened Friday night’s encore, which dwelt largely on their 90s material, including Let Down – a deep cut that’s had a new lease of life on TikTok – and the epic Paranoid Android.

Introducing a muscular version of Just, Yorke explains that it was written “on a freezing cold farm in 1994”, in a period where they thought they’d only be remembered for one song: Their 1992 breakout Creep.

We all know the story ended differently, but the reunion does find Radiohead in a strange position.

This tour comes with no new material, and the last seven years have been so fertile with side projects, most notably Thom Yorke and guitarist Jonny Greenwood’s three albums as The Smile, that it seemed Radiohead’s members might have permanently moved on.

Several factors got in the way – grief, parenthood, mental health and rumours of intra-band tension over Israel.

As recently as August, Yorke said a reunion was “not on the cards from where I’m sitting”.

All of which makes the decision to play in the round, packed like sardines in a crushed tin can, all the more significant.

The group are symbolically returning to the rehearsal room, playing off each other as much as they are playing to the audience.

Yorke glides across the stage, doing that dance he does, moving from acoustic guitar to electric piano and back again.

During Idioteque, guitarist Ed O’Brien catches him mid-transit, and they holler the lyrics directly to one another. At the start of Jigsaw Falling Into Place, Yorke and Greenwood face each other and play duelling guitars.

It suggests the tour has been an act of healing, even if the band have been assigned separate dressing rooms for the first time in their career.

Whether that leads to anything more is still up for debate. “We haven’t thought past the tour,” Yorke recently told the Times. “I’m just stunned we got this far.”

The delighted fans who queued for the Tube home singing Karma Police will be hoping everything is in its right place for a fully-fledged comeback.

Planet Telex

2 + 2 = 5

Sit Down, Stand Up

Lucky

Bloom

15 Step

The Gloaming

Kid A

No Surprises

Videotape

Weird Fishes/Arpeggi

Idioteque

Everything in Its Right Place

The National Anthem

Daydreaming

Jigsaw Falling Into Place

Bodysnatchers

There There

Encore:

Fake Plastic Trees

Let Down

Paranoid Android

You and Whose Army?

A Wolf at the Door

Just

Karma Police