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A humble cover of a great song. Hopefully this is enjoyable to some of you guys.

An account of a long time fan's first concert (and the journey getting there).

March 15th, Jobing.com Arena, Glendale AZ


I discovered Radiohead in 2000 after 4 different people recommended them to me.  I was advised to start with OK Computer and from first listen I knew I had come across something special.  Someone told me to try The Bends next.  Again- amazing.  I don't think those two cds left my player for 2 years.  When I was finally able to try something new, I bought Amnesiac, which was the newest album they had come out with.  It threw me for a loop for a few listens- it was different, but boy I warmed up to it fast and was excited for the new sound.  For the next few years, I lived in my own Radiohead world. I read a few magazine articles and a few interviews, but mainly, I just listened to the music and bought albums in my own time, getting to know them one by one.  I didn't feel the need to rush, I wanted to savor each album until I could feel it deep in my bones. 


It was around the time In Rainbows came out that I finally caught up.  I bought In Rainbows a few months after it's release and I don't have to tell you guys that it was amazing.  After that, I started looking up all I could and getting into what was happening currently.  There was a tour, but it came at a bad time for me.  I had a baby that year, and we were super strapped financially.  They don't come where I live (Utah), so I would have had to travel and we just couldn't do it.  I watched the tour happen.  I looked at pictures and videos.  When they played that final show in Santa Barbara with the streaming, I was there, in bed on my laptop and headphones next to my sleeping husband, cheering and crying, rejoicing for the awesome show and grieving for my loss.  It wasn't right not to be there, but I wasn't and I vowed that night that I was not going to miss them again.  I'd go without food for a month if I needed to. 


Time passed, and in 2009 I drove down to Vegas with my brother to see the Pixies which is the band he has been obsessed with forever.  It was his concert of a lifetime.  I loved it and loved being with him seeing him see his favorite band.   We had a blast we had and he promised he would be there when I got to see Radiohead.  I had no idea if they would tour again.  Didn't know if there would be a new album, but I couldn't imagine never being able to see them live.  Especially since my brother didn't think he had a prayer of ever seeing the Pixies- but a miracle happened and they reunited for a tour.  I figured I had a good chance.

Enter 2011 and The King of Limbs.  I hoped against hope they would tour for the album.  I wasn't sure they would.  I started hearing interviews with band members hinting at such a thing.  I didn't want to get my hopes up.  Then Thom made it pretty clear one day that it was happening.  After that I let myself finally believe that it is possible.  I waited for announcements. The ticket thing was a nightmare-  presales happening on the day of my niece's wedding and stuff like that, I won't bore you with the details.  We were finally able to score seated tickets in Glendale Arizona- a 12 hour drive away.  I couldn't imagine not being on the floor, but after all the ticket nightmares so many people experienced, I felt lucky to have a ticket.  They were good seats, lower bowl, Jonny's side of the stage, first section by the stage.  I brought binoculars anyway, thinking I could watch them up close when I wanted.  We were only able to get 2, so my brother's wife who also came, got a seat close, but in the upper bowl.  My bro and I are the bigger fans, and she was totally cool with sitting up there.  We brought her binoculars too.  I had a good attitude about having seats.  I did but couldn't help feeling a little sad, knowing my place is down below on the floor.  I later saw fans on WASTE and the facebook page with extra floor tickets I probably could have scored, but we already had our tickets and I couldn't ask my crew to shell out more money for more tickets, so I accepted my seats and was super excited about it.  We also planned to look for an opportunity to sneak to the floor at some point during the last few songs, but I had very little hope in that plan.

Wednesday, the day we left came, I hated leaving my husband at home, he is a fan too (not a super fan, but would have loved to go).  He couldn't miss school and work.  He called me around noon on the day of the concert and told me how excited he has been all day thinking about me going to the concert.  He said, "it's not everyday that someone's dream comes true".  He gets it.  I Brought my sisters and my little girls for the road trip (my siblings and I get along  great and have a lot of fun together).  They dropped us off at the venue and watched my girls for the concert.  We arrived at 5:30 and went to the gates and got our tickets and two old ladies were minding the tickets and scanning cards.  After verifying and giving us our tickets, they slapped wristbands on us and we thought nothing of it.  We had our tickets and our seats, so we turned around and left and wandered around the stores until concert time.  We decided to head back at 6:30 and went to get our tickets scanned and the guy that scanned mine told me that GA was over there.  I said, "I don't have general admission" and showed him my ticket.  He said that he was surprised they gave me that and pointed to my wristband.  This didn't happen to my brother, but my wheels started turning.  I pulled him aside and whispered that I think they gave us wristbands for the floor by mistake.  We were in shock.  We walked around a little trying to process this information and decide what to do. I knew people had been waiting all day to get a good spot and thought the floor might already be totally packed and we would be in the far back and maybe our seats would be a better option.  I have enough respect for the people that waited all day to even try to get in front of any of them.  We peaked inside and it was far less packed then we had dreamed.  We got super excited.  Our minds were definitely made up- then we gave his wife our tickets and binoculars so she ended up having a better seat too.  We hugged her goodbye, showed our wristbands to the lady on the stairs and couldn't believe we were walking to the floor.  Jonny's side was even a little less crowded.  I seriously could not believe what was happening.

I found myself standing on the floor, about 40 feet from the stage (about 9 people back) in shock.   We started talking to the people around us.  I made some great friends.  It was great to talk to fans who get it and love this band like I do.  We talked about the order we got the albums, we talked about songs that moved us first.  We just talked Radiohead.  The opening band was good.  I enjoyed them for a few songs, then it just got too close and my brain checked out of anything that wasn't Radiohead.  My head buzzed that it was really this close.  I couldn't BELIEVE I was where I was.  It was a miracle.  I found out later what a pain everything was for the devoted fans that waited all day outside.  I heard about the run around they got.  I feel terrible and hope I don't offend any of them that I got a wristband having a section seat.  But I came much after they were in place by the stage and I didn't elbow my way to get closer to the stage.  I want you all to know that it felt like a miracle to this long time fan that suffered ticket nightmares, long mornings hitting refresh refresh refresh on waste and ticketmaster, only to get shut out again and again and again.  We tried for 4 different concerts.  I felt that night, standing there, like the fates stepped in and granted me my rightful spot- where I belonged.   I got to stand and cheer when the guys finally came on stage.  I was where I should be and I was stunned by the amazing luck I had found.  It was magic.  All I could do was point and think, "there's Jonny!"  "Holy crap- there's Thom!"  "Look at Colin!  He is adorable!" etc, etc.....

Those feelings lasted all night.  They really did.  I was hit with double disbelief- actually watching them before my eyes for the first time and being where I was, when a few hours before I was resigned to sitting in my section.  It was sensory overload.  It was amazing.  It was everything I ever dreamed it would be.  Have you ever had expectations for something for so long that when it finally happens, it is a bit of a let down?  Well, this was everything I could ever have wanted it to be.  Radiohead exceeded some very, very high expectations.  Thom was even in an extra good mood because it turned out to be the last concert of the first leg of the tour and he was excited to go home and see his family for a few weeks.  He didn't stop dancing all night.  He was a power house.  He had more charisma and energy then I could have imagined and I was enchanted and under his spell.  I have always been a Jonny superfan.  I think he is BRILLIANT.  I was in awe of being able to watch him work.  It was like a dream.  I was stunned.  I had a hard time getting over that.  My biggest surprise of the night was how utterly cute Colin was.  He was just so happy and cute.  I've always thought of him as the most "English gentleman"ish of the lot, and love to hear him in interviews, but boy, he was more adorable in person watching him be in his element then I ever thought.  The lights, the monitors, the art of it all together with the music was truly unforgettable.  Some unforgettable moments of the night:  1. Packt Like Sardines-  holy crap!  What a surprise and what a great song to hear live!  It was sooooo cool.  2. Thom letting loose all over the stage- dancing and singing to Lotus flower with three giant maracas in one hand.  3.  Seeing all the little noises that happen in a Radiohead song being played by actual instruments live instead of just sounds generated by a computer and in the same vein- watching them loop a part of the song right in front of you and playing it during that song.  Maybe that shouldn't surprise me or be so cool to me, but it was.  They don't take shortcuts and they don't phone it in.  4. A moment at the end of Lucky (my husband's favorite RH song)-  Ed, Thom and Jonny all lined up and playing the crap out of their guitars.  That moment will live on in my mind forever.  5. Paranoid Android.  The perfect topper for the perfect set list.  This was my one song that if I could choose any song in their collection for them to play live.  It was on my "don't dare to dream wish list"  I look at it as the quintessential song that all RH fans need to hear live at least once in their lives.  That song is epic.  It's an experience in itself and I hoped with all my might, I got to experience it.  They closed the show with it and during the last third of the song, my brother said "come on" and I grabbed his arm and we made our way closer to the stage.  We didn't get too far, but were directly in front of Thom, about 5 people back (5 very short people for some reason) and Thom looked at us kind of like- who are these tall freaks that just showed up right in front of me?  We are both a little taller then average and we know we stood out a bit.  It was a magic moment for me and love that my brother thought of that.  6.  When the second encore started and just Jonny and Thom stood together and dedicated Give Up the Ghost to their families.  In the silence before they started I breathed out, "this is going to be good" and the guy in front of me heard, turned around and nodded.

 There was a boy we met and talked to a lot before the show named Marcus and we ran into him after the lights came up and we just looked at each other and hugged.  We had shared an amazing experience.  We had bonded in our shared love of a band.  For days I felt like giving every one I met a hug, I was so filled with happiness. 

Well, that was one long time fan's first Radiohead concert experience.  Hope it was worth reading (if anyone indeed made it though this beast of a post).  For anyone that is reading this, waiting for their first Radiohead concert, I have this to say:  You are in for the best night of your life.  It is worth every moment of the wait, every click of the refresh button.  I envy that you have it ahead of you, but I am also happy to have my memories I will never forget.  And the thought that they will tour again some time in the future, cause I will be there, no matter what it takes.  They truly ARE the best band on earth.

After waiting in line for 10 hours, we managed to get to the front row for the entire concert. Throughout the day, I managed to capture enough images to make this short stop motion film. Hope you guys enjoy!

Hey does someone know if this website http://tickets.waste.uk.com has something to do with the presale? Aha I'm so determined to get my tickets! And what's the matter with the presale code ? How can I get it and when I have it, what I have to do with it ?

Wanna see Radiohead live pleaaaaase

Who's excited for the new album?

(raises hand)

This is probably the best thing to happen this year.

http://www.thekingoflimbs.com/

The first thing I could
see was the dirty boot-heels walking at a slant towards the bright light
breaking though the dense trees. The colour came seeping back, dark green
leaves shining, rich brown rot of old leaves and loamy soil. I could smell the
earth’s musk; it curled and coiled into my nostrils insistently. The damp
cooled my cheek pressed firmly to the ground. I wanted to get up; I knew I had
to get up; I stayed sprawled beneath the tree, across the narrow path. I
focused instead on the dirty boot-heels and their owner. For an instant I could
see the stiff-legged strut stutter into the fluid gait of the tall
glossy-haired young man walking away. As he stepped out of the shadows into the
afternoon, I felt life crawling back into my limbs—all tingles and jangling
nerves. It made me shake as I sat up and leaned against the tree. I pulled off
my neckerchief to wipe the muck from my face. My fingertips brushed my neck; my
skin felt strange, emptied. I expanded my diaphragm and the air came whistling
in, sharp and cool. I held it in my lungs, rounded my lips, and… the air came
rushing out, aspirated and moist.

I put my hand to my
chest to stop the arrhythmia, the sudden tunneling of vision. A second later I
tried to clear my throat –not even the hoarse phlegmy grunt gurgled under my
hiss of breath. It was gone, completely gone! I rubbed my throat and down to
collar bones, tracing my trachea. The strap was gone too, the pretty shiny
crystal my cousin had presented to me with mystical fanfare. The one I had
fawned over in that booth in Camden. I dug my fingers into the loose loam; my
hands found nothing but skeletal leaves and disgruntled bugs. I stood up,
propping myself against the tree. I swept the ground with my right foot then my
left in ever increasing circles—nothing. I turned to face where I had been. The
path looked back innocently. I gulped air for a massive, soundless scream. I
stamped my feet instead. I pouted. I shook my fists. I shook my head.

I turned back to the
path I had yet to cover and walked towards the bright afternoon. The path
widened out into open daylight. I looked up from pointlessly scanning the
ground and tripped, leaning forward but not falling. I caught my breath, rested
my hands on my knees, straightened up. I looked to my left at the world sloping
away, to my right where the ground lumbered up like a dragon’s back with trees
for scales. I looked straight up at the periwinkle sky and the golden curve of
the afternoon sun. I put both hands in my dreads and pulled them back. I could
do with a good and lengthy scream to stop the tears stinging the corner of my
eyes. I turned all the way around slowly until I faced the quiet wood. The
trees seemed the same. There was the old oak with the odd crooked fingered
branch that should have been pointing at the steeple of the village church,
pointing at a fluffy pinkish cloud floating over the lea.

I bowed my head and
forced air through my nostrils; it was the loudest expression of anger I could
muster. I lost my voice and my way. I couldn’t understand either loss. I had
managed to sing without croaking that morning. I had even caught my cousin
wiping a tear from her eyes—it was always her favourite hymn. I had walked this
path by myself just fine all month long. How could I have lost my voice and my
way? I crossed my arms against the cool breeze running through the path between
the trees. The sun was sinking its way to rest and the gloom gathered thick
under the trees, already deeper than twilight. I stepped back quickly—I felt my
head grow big. I took another step back and slipped, tumbling down the incline.

I was pinned to the
grass in the fading light, and there he was again, the young man, striding
along the horizon. It had to be him. The landscape was empty otherwise. I
gathered myself together slowly. I was in one piece, but I had to pull the
strings tight again, retie the knot that held me all together. I forced my arms
and legs to coordinate with my head, hoisting myself up on all fours as the
young man crested the horizon and disappeared. My blood started pumping hard. I
jumped up and kicked my legs out into a graceless gambol across the grass.  I picked up speed, swinging my arms for
momentum. I leaned forward into the run, covering ground so fast that I soon
discovered the horizon was a ledge separating land from bright purple twilit
sky, and the air rushed about me like a flurry of wings. I was turning
somersaults against the liquid glaze of deepening night. White blue stars
spangled the lush purple around me. I wasn’t falling, just spinning like a ship
out of orbit in space. There were no more reference points above or below, only
stars. I closed my eyes.

I could still hear the
flutter and fury of wings in flight, but my back pressed against a warm, soft
down. I opened my eyes and the stars were streaking by. I stretched my arms;
there were feathers extending past my finger tips. I rolled over cautiously.
Glossy black feathers brushed my cheeks. All around me smaller birds kept pace,
silent, concentrating on the flap-glide pattern smaller birds use to fly. One
or two at a time would hop onto the giant bird’s back to catch a moment’s rest.
They all stared at me. Some nodded hello, some tutted and shook their heads.
They felt sorry for me, I could tell. I wanted to ask why, opened my mouth and
let out a hiss. That’s why. We were approaching a shore. I could smell the
freshness of the water, the sweetness of trees flirting with wind and insects.
I looked over the bird’s shoulder. A lake sparkled in the darkness, suddenly
solid and reassuring. Trees stood in clumps round the bank, ladened with flowers and fruits of all colours and descriptions,
an explosion of fecundity.

I was gaping at it all
when the giant bird banked sharply to the right and I lost my grip. I was
spinning again in open space, falling like a kite that had lost the wind. I could
see the lake growing, closing in. it had the ageless gaze of a giant turtle’s
eyes. Wisdom still and glassy, waiting for me to enter.  The lake reflected the stars on its smooth
black surface. I met the stars, went through them. translucent jellyfish went
by like so many kings and queens across the Savannah stage. they towered over
me, swaying, dancing. I followed behind. I moved along, but I can’t say how. I just
kept moving until I could feel the sandy bottom.

And I was walking out
of the water onto the shore. I felt strange breathing air again. I looked up at
the trees. Everything was technicoloured, dazzling. The fruits hung low, plentiful,
enormous. A mango, as big as my head, brushed the grass. It was bright, rosy,
out of place like me. We were fish out of water, sort of; two tropical things
interloping in this temperate place. I felt homesick and turned to watch the
lake. The water was crisp and blue, reflecting a mid-morning sky. Peace enveloped
me. I was part of this. I had done nothing wrong. For the moment it felt like
nothing wrong had been done to me. I watched the dragon flies flying in the
sunlight for a long time, my toes splayed in the soft dirt, my shoulders
relaxed. The lake sighed, lapping the shore with slow undulations like the
contented drowsy movements of an innocent child at breakfast. I smiled.

The sun arced and
dipped. It was turning to night again. The horizon was bleeding a bright
vermillion into the fading blue sky. I looked away and noticed the foot prints
on the ground, leading into the trees. They hadn’t been there before. I knew
they were his. I knew I had to follow him. The trees parted for me, nodding
their fruit-and-flower-garlanded heads. Go
on, they said, remember you’ve done
nothing wrong. I followed the footprints into the hush of the forest. I walked
for a while. I could hear birds settling in the trees, gossiping in shrill
whistles, cacophonous caws, sweet melodies. One of those melodies sounded
vaguely familiar. It was mocking and drawing me on, always repeating itself
ahead of me.

I started running. The trees
whipped by. I jumped up and landed on a sward, a little circle of turf in the
middle of the trees. I came face to face with the young man. He had sleek black
hair, a bright white waistcoat. He regarded me with the blackest, shiniest
eyes, full of mischief and challenge. I stood my ground. He smiled. I did not. It
was as if the sun had reserved its last rays for this spot. Sunlight danced off
of us. He bowed low, gesturing, offering me a seat on the grass. We sat facing
each other in the lotus position. He started singing. He started singing my
song. In my voice. My voice! I put my hand to my throat. He mimicked me. His long,
thin fingers brushed my crystal round his neck. He sang louder, smiling wider. I
unfolded slowly out of the lotus position. He did the same. We stood up. I reached
across the gap, but he stepped back. I lunged forward, but he leapt into the
air, half bird half man. I caught his foot and yanked him back down. He stopped
smiling. We faced each other, looking into each other’s eyes. I didn’t blink. He
didn’t flinch. We held each other’s gaze for so long.

I reached out my hand
slowly. My fingertips brushed the crystal. I opened my mouth. Words twisted
out, jumbled. I gripped the crystal. We never stopped our staring match.

            You’ve got some nerve. (croaked)                  

           Coming here? (soft but solid)

               Yes.

           But you sssstole it. Give it back.

             No.

            I want it back

             Apologize

I wanted to blink, but to blink was to lose.

            Why?

            Because…

            Why?

            Don’t blow your mind with why. Because.

I yanked the crystal, but the cord would not give.

           I’ve done nothing wrong!

My eyes stung with frustration, but I stared
all the harder, angry till it burst out of me. He was now almost entirely a
bird, except for his face. A giant bird with glossy black feathers and a white
throat. The sun was up again, morning bright. I smiled. A memory was stirring—something
my cousin had told me once, a funny local custom.

            You stole it off. Give it back, Mr. Magpie.

            No

            You know you should

            But I won’t.

            Good morning, Mr. Magpie, how’s your wife today?

He smiled, cawed and beat his wings. The
sky filled with black feathers. Everything went blank—inky dark.

            I
was standing by the tree where it had all started. I looked up at the branches.
A magpie bobbed its head at me. I nodded back. “Good morning, Mr. Magpie. How
are you today?” It shifted on the branch and flew away. I took a deep breath
and burst out singing. I sang all the way back to my cousin’s house near the
end of the village road past the church, swinging the crystal on its cord in my
hand.