Blame It On The Satellite That Brings Me Home
Ok. I don’t gush often. Or ever. In fact, more often than not, I am in a steady state of “underwhelmed.” Like right now? I am barely sentient. But Friday night I went to see Radiohead, and I can’t even describe how good they were.
I had seen Radiohead once before at the Tweeter Center in Camden where I was seated 3 football fields away and watched large video screens of people who may or may not have been Radiohead. Seriously, they could have been marionettes for all I know. Between that and the contact high I was surfing, the concert was a bit of a blur. To top it all off, I was in the murder capital of America. Still, it was rather special seeing what is usually my favorite band.
But this time my friends and I were the beneficiaries of some sort of secret sale of tickets for Radiohead fans that occurred at 5:00 AM a while ago. I really don’t know much about it, so I will spare you making up the details. I just know I got to work, and my friend told me he got me a ticket. The catch? We had no idea where our seat would be. It turned out we were in the 5th row center at the Tower Theater in upper Darby (where there was this strange haze all over the building—we still have no clue what it was). You could practically feel the sweat dripping off the lads. If you’re into that. Which I am not. Nevertheless, we squeed with joy when the hunchback usher showed us to our seats.
* I thought that I might feel old at the concert, but my friends and I figured we were the ideal Radiohead fan age. That is, there were plenty of older people there. The exceptions were a set of brothers who couldn’t have been older than 10 in matching Radiohead shirts singing along to every song. It was cute as hell, if you could get over the fact that these tots had 3rd row seats. They weren’t even old enough to masturbate over this fact. Another: some guy had a Class of 2009 college shirt on. I don’t do math, and frankly I don’t care to find out what year in college that makes him.
*The man standing behind me, who looked exactly like Otto from The Simpsons in the flesh, was recording the entire concert illegally, as it seemed he did at every concert he attended. He was actually directing people around us to please be quiet for the sake of the recording. He even asked the dumb girl ahead of me to stop waving her hands so erratically. One odd moment when his bong wasn’t near his mouth, he flipped out at some little androgynous runt who was screaming too loudly. The crazier part was that these people willingly complied with Otto’s requests. My intimidating frame no doubt kept him from confronting me about my dancing.
*Someone, without a shred of irony, actually screamed, “Rock the House!”
*Thom Yorke is sexy. He’s not at all good looking, but the man is sexy. I can’t explain it.
*The song selection was amazing. They actually played Black Star, which they never play. It’s one of my two favorite songs by them, so I totally geeked out. The highlights for me were that, Let Down, Idioteque, Everything in its Right Place and The Bends. If they also played Just, I don't know what I would have done.
Now, to get back to my normal personality: It was probably the best concert I have ever been to, and I am a bit sad knowing that I will likely never have it that good at a concert again.