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.
Pretty good quality videos