Thom Yorke Live at the Corn Exchange Cambridge

The ticket said the show would start at 19:00, and Jack (who was in the organization, and gave me the free ticket) said I should meet him there at seven.
I got there 20 minutes early, and no sign of Jack, nor did he answer his phone, so I took my place in the queue, which span over two corners of the large building. What a bummer. Barely did I take my place, that the length of the line nearly doubled, I could almost say I was lucky.

I waited in the damn Cambridge rain, at least it wasn't as cold as a few days ago. The line started moving quickly, and I was soon inside, where I found a smiling untroubled Jack, suddenly reminded of my presence there tonight. I was soon informed of an afterparty, to which I would of course have no access. So much for my dreams of befriending a great artist, to mooch of his fame and get noticed.

I spent time with Jack, as he talked to people, not really knowing what I was doing there; so I decided to get a drink, some black gold would suffice (Guinness I mean); but the cumdumpster at the bar asked for my ID which I didn't have, what impertinence, and I did not get my drink. Luckily I had my flask of whiskey with me, which the bouncer failed to notice, and the attempts to stop me from drinking failed miserably.

But Jack's company proved not entirely useless, for another ticket for the concert did emerge, for no charge (damn basterd, saved me over 200 quid on tickets for events he got me in for free, gotta love him). I called a friend, who had wanted to come, and he did not hesitate in showing up.

As he showed up I know my supply of cigarettes and booze was enriched, as he took no break to regain breath until he bought the first pints of cider. We went in in the middle of the opening act, a strange geek on the stage, seemingly frightened, making awkward jokes, yet singing a nice amateurish Nick Cave type thing.

He did stop soon after, and we went for another fag, but when we got back the crowd grew thicker, and we barely found any good spots.

We waited for a while, but then there he was, Thom Yorke, himself, looking sickly-shaby, with his salt and pepper hair and his uncombed beard, but delivering a great performance and stage presence. He played some Radiohead tunes, mainly form in Rainbows, and many of his own songs, some of which he never sang on stage before. And we got two encores as well, from a humble little man, he would make us sing, and in the next minute almost weep. Damn you Thom, you are good.

But something was wrong, the crowd seemed out of place. Sure, they were clapping and cheering, but still they was no vibe man. Nobody was moving franatically, fuck, people looked at me strangely for humming along to the songs. That was a damn symphony crowd not a Thom Yorke one.

What a corruption of my first life Thom/Radiohead experience, but still what an experience.

Set list
Pretty good quality videos

Reconciliation Letter

We had a good run, we did.
I met you when I was little, we didn't really get on at the time, but I got to know you much better when I was fourteen, and although some people warned me not to get involved with you, and even I had my doubts, we quickly became quite close.
And we've been together since, and you never let me down. You were always there for me, when I had it rough with the parents, or at school, when I was depressed, when a girlfriend left me and I thought the World would end, you were right there, soothing me. Even physical pain you softened. Sure, we had some arguments, some really bad moments, and I did say a few times I never want to see you again, but I always returned smiling. You were there all through high-school, in the good moments, and all the bad ones, when I let nobody else but you close to me.

But then I moved to Uni, and I felt our relationship was not as strong anymore. In the first year we still met, had fun, though not as often, yet we pretended it was alright. And we'd meet more often when I would get home, and things would seem like in the old days. But in the second year, we couldn't fool ourselves any more, and in the last months I would feel you getting more and more distant, we'd meet up sometimes, have some fun, but we were like strangers. I think it's mostly my fault, I drove you away. And now that I see this I want you back, and you are more eager than ever to keep me company.

Thank you alcohol, thank you for everything.

Six years down, with you by my side, six more years to go, and I hope you will stay by my side until I join the 27 club.