https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDT70X31T2c&feature=relmfu
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HpIjH2w21Q
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2Vp0LPCkyw&feature=related
All credits and such for the rightfull owner of the video's.
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In a few weeks I'll go to a Radiohead concert. I really want to get up front, so I was asking myself.. ''How do I get there fast? Do I need to wait in line for 12 hours (I'm up for that :p) etc.''
If you have any experience or tips, please reply!
Chicago-area Radiohead fans, come check out our Radiohead tribute tonight at the Beat Kitchen in Chicago IL! Show starts at 10pm, we'll be sharing the stage with an amazing R.E.M. tribute band!
Beat Kitchen
2100 West Belmont Avenue
Chicago, IL 60618
come check out our Radiohead tribute show tonight! We'll be playing at the Beat Kitchen in Chicago IL, at 10pm. We'll be sharing the state with an R.E.M. tribute band!
more info here:
¡Vaya! Ya has usado esa canción para recordar a otra persona.
¿Hasta cuantas personas estara permitido por ley como máximo recordar con una canción?
Wis_H you a gL/orious day
The National - Lucky You
Cada vez que tomas un trago
y cada vez que te vas a despertar
¿Están estos sueños dentro de tu cabeza?
¿Hay luz solar sobre tu cama?
Y cada vez que estas dirigiéndote a casa
Fuera de tu zona de comfort
Donde quiera que vayas a estar
No podrás liberarte de mí
Te pertenezco
No hay nada que puedas hacer
Te pertenezco
Podrías hacer una apuesta más segura
Pero lo que quiebras es lo que obtienes
Despiertas en la cama que tu haces
Pienso que cometiste un gran error
Te pertenezco
No hay nada que puedas hacer
Te pertenezco
Te pertenezco
Suertuda
Te pertenezco
No hay nada que puedas hacer
Te limpias para encontrarte
Con el hombre que no soy yo
Te estás poniendo una playera
Una playera que nunca veré
La carta está en tu abrigo
Pero nadie está en tu cabeza
Porque eres muy lista como para recordar
Eres muy lista
Suertuda
Four Tet - Jupiters (Happa Remix)
electronic, experimental, idm
Solid Steel Radio Show 17/8/2012 Part 3 + 4 - Four Tet
funk, electronic, experimental
Flying Lotus - See Thru To U feat. Erykah Badu
electronic, experimental, downtempo
Ultraísta - Smalltalk (Four Tet Remix)
beats, electronic, electropop, glitch
electronic, techno
Sigur Rós - Dauðalogn (the 8th mystery film experiment )
alternative, ambient, electronic, experimental, post-rock
alternative, synthpop
alternative, electronic, experimantal
hip hop
mixcloud
Mixmaster Morris @ MS Stubnitz, 12/8/2012 By Mixmaster Morris
funk, world, alternative, experimental, electronic, Deep House, ambient, chillout,
To whom this may concern in the Radiohead organization:
Greetings. This is a blatant attempt by Techung's Bass Guitarist to "reach out" to the Radiohead organization and community for we have no clue as how to contact the Radiohead organization through the proper channels . We are currently touring with Tibetan Folk performer and foremost repository of Tibetan arts and culture "Techung" for peace in Tibet and healing throughout the extended Tibetan community after continuous self immolation's in Tibet. The link above is to our latest commercial release by Tibetan Folk Master "Techung" which features a performance by Blues Master Keb' Mo' and words by Tibetan dissident poet under house arrest Tsering Woeser.
We have noticed the Tibetan flags raised at Radiohead shows and have been wanting to attempt to contact the Radiohead organization to see if there was any remote chance of us doing something together (maybe an opening spot for Radiohead or a fundraiser) to further raise awareness about the current escalating situation in Tibet.
Techung has toured extensively worldwide over his lifetime and opened for H.H. The Dalai Lama numerous times, we have been performing as his electric band since 2008 and have played prestigious venues like Carnegie Hall w/Phillip Glass and Patti Smith, Moscow Intl. Performing Arts Center (Dom Musike), Penang World Music Fest. Malaysia, Suntory Hall Japan, etc. We are currently touring in support of our latest release and just came off a successful East Coast campaign. Our next shows will be in the Mid West USA, Minneapolis, MN and Madison, WI at the end of September 2012.
All pertinent information (bio, video, audio, contact) is available at the links I have provided at the top of the page.
Thank you for flying the flag of an autonomous Tibet on stage and for your lack of fear furthering awareness to the escalating situation in China.
Thank you so much for your time and consideration! Tashi Delek!
Kito Rodriguez- Bass Guitarist/ Engineer for "Techung"
1(818) 454-7145
kito@limitlesssky.net
Seeing all this advertising pollution, I thought this link could be useful; it’s a database with all the popular brands of lotion, shampoo, deodorant, etc., so you can verefy if the products you’re using is actually good for your health.
Take care!
I love how, sometimes, outside noise can improve the overall quality of a Radiohead song.
A few hours ago, I was listening to "Codex" while taking a walk outside. Off in the distance, I could hear cicadas buzzing in the distance. The droning sound of their chirps added to the ambient quality of the song, so I just listened to them as if they were instruments being used in the song.
There have been several occasions where that kind of thing has happened. It reminded me of how experimental the band's music can be, and that the tiniest sound could change the mood of a song altogether.
Today one of my clients in Atlanta, gave me this magazine. I have wanted it since seeing it in April. The dentist office saw it and knew rather than to toss it out, they would give it to Jean the plantlady who loves Radiohead. I started to cry tears of joy. I now have a copy of my very own. I can't wait to read it this weekend. It is in excellent condition and made this typical Friday, so very special. Best of all, I felt so fucking special! I still LY Radiohead!!! ;)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-0O_QD-UZ8M&feature=BFa&list=FLMUMfywQhpN0ReMReWxQaaA
An all-time favorite
I was thirteen years old when Radiohead's first album, Pablo Honey, was released. For several months I had been hearing the single "Creep" on the radio, and as a fan of "college and alternative rock" music, particularly from the United Kingdom, I considered myself a harbinger of this burgeoning genre. The album was released in February, so I found myself bicycling downtown after school on a Tuesday to purchase it in particularly nasty winter conditions. Five months earlier, I had had my Bar Mitzvah, which is a Jewish rite of passage symbolizing one's progression into manhood. It is customary to receive money from extended family members in celebration of this occasion, and pledging to put the largest amount of money I had ever possessed in my life to good use, I purchased a stereo for my room that included a CD player, which was a relatively new technology at the time. Compact discs replaced cassette tapes and vinyl records in a technological shift more abrupt than any other within my lifetime. Suddenly, these shiny, iridescent pieces of plastic were musical gold, empowering listeners to experience music in ways never before imaginable. I vowed to amass the greatest library of music I possibly could, above and beyond of any of my peers at school, and now, almost half a year later, my budget was running out, but my tastes and collection had expanded to the point that all of the record store employees in town recognized me by name. I considered myself a bit of an expert with this expanded knowledge, and even fancied myself as a fledgling journalist, a conossieur of cool, and an expansionary educator of impressionable fellow middle school minds. I started a column in my school's newspaper, The Communicator, and even created charts for those interested in discerning the truly hip from the tragically overhyped, the red hot to the just plain not of future musical crops. Along with this great perceived power came a tremendous amount of perceived responsibility; I vowed to scour any and all channels of information to discover real talent amongst a carnival of dizzying rides and rigged games being pimped by the carnival barkers of the music industry. I spent most nights glued to the radio, flipping between college stations from Ann Arbor, Detroit, and Windsor, often with blank tapes loaded in my stereo's dubbing system, eagerly awaiting the next new creative influence or sound that exuded all previous influences. When I found something I liked, I spent hours studying it, listening to it over and over until every note had been branded in my brain like a tattoo and I had broken the combination to the safe that held the secret formula to concoct the most powerful speeds and sedatives of rock and roll. I discovered new bands that would eventually destroy all notions of popular culture in music, like Nirvana, and Nine Inch Nails, and Pearl Jam. I also discovered artists who would not go on to achieve the same level of commercial success, like the New Fast Automatic Daffodils, Ned's Atomic Dustbin, and the Mighty Lemon Drops. There were hundreds of bands that became my obsession; in an era that pre-dated the notion of an Internet that resembled one gigantic web rather than several hundred small nets, I relied on magazines, record stores (and their employees), and radio DJs to help me win the scavenger hunt of self-definition through awesome musical tastes, and this included more than just the new and current artists and sounds. It included a back-catalogue that required extensive research and absorption as well. I joined various record clubs, quickly schooling myself on the sounds from the past that had paved the way for the sons and daughters of the revolution such as myself: The Smiths, The Doors, and one particular hero from my own hometown, my own neighborhood, in fact, a man who had attended the same middle school as myself, walked the very same halls, drank from the same water fountains and probably even written for the same rag of a middle school newspaper: Iggy Pop. Realizing that I was walking in the shadows of greatness, I knew that I would never view life in the same way; I now had real potential. But the manipulative voices of the mainstream media had other ideas for me; they were the talking snake in my otherwise innocent Garden of Eden. In the same week that Radiohead's landmark album Pablo Honey was released, a catchy pop song sung by a duo of Scottish identical twin brothers had been re-released and re-packaged five years after its original release. The song had arguably one of the most infectious progressions in the history of music, and to top it all off, the lyrics were fun and equally addictive. That song was entitled "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" (henceforth referred to as just: 500 Miles), and the band who gave birth to this anthem of universal appeal was The Proclaimers. Whomever the record executive is (or was) that envisioned the relaunch of this half-decade old ditty was a genius. The song was everywhere, and the CD too; as I went to check out with my Radiohead CD in hand, there at the register was the seductive CD from the Proclaimers, boasting the hit single "500 Miles" in a bold sticker on the cover. I knew I wanted to purchase the Radiohead CD, even though I had only heard the single "Creep," but now I found myself facing a difficult decision. I was almost out of my Bar Mitzvah money, so I felt myself in the throes of a real quagmire. I could hear the catchy chorus of "500 Miles" in my head, on repeat, proclaiming over and over "I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man, who walked one thousand miles to fall down at your door, SURRENDER!!" as I got closer and closer to the cash register on my way to check out. My middle school mind could not resist the temptation. Like an outer-body experience, I found myself surrendering, super-sizing my purchase, doubling down on my bet on Radiohead with a copy of the Proclaimers' CD as well. With a quick cash transaction and a plastic bag in hand, I was on my way home with twice the usual dosage of new alternative music, feeling a small rush of excitement as I rushed to my room to crack open these new gems for my collection. That evening I recall being angrier than ever before at music, and for the first time in my life, truly pissed off at the commercialization of what had otherwise been to me a purer form of art and culture. In short, I was no longer just an angst-ridden teenager, but also now the victim of corporate assault by the music industry, and armed robbery by the record store that dared to put that Proclaimers CD so boldly in front of the cash register as if it was endorsing this manipulative ruse from the record industry. Not only was "500 Miles" the only decent song on The Proclaimers' CD, but it was also the first song, meaning that I had just been duped into wasting an hour of my life trying to convince myself that I had not been so foolish as to fall for such an underhanded trick, for taking a sucker bet on a game of Find-The-Queen with a dealer whose deception was now completely obvious. The Proclaimers' CD was such a disappointment that I had made up my mind to do something I had never done before; I was going to attempt to return the CD the very next day to the store, and if they refused to take it back, then I would sell it as used at a different shop up the street, where I knew I could at least recoup $8 or $9 of my terrible investment. I knew that returning an open CD would be difficult, and that I was going to have to settle for store credit most likely, but I was determined to rid myself of the curse that was this abomination of a music release. As I formulated my plan, I also realized that my receipt stated that I had purchased two CDs, and that one of the two was still unopened. I figured that this would help my case, that it would provide me with leverage, for lack of a better term. I could use the Radiohead CD as both collateral and a bluff, to show them that I was ready to return that CD for a full refund, and never do business with the store again if they did not agree to my terms of giving me a refund in full for what was basically now just one obnoxious ditty. In my head I rehearsed my plan, covering every possible scenario for how I would pull this off. The Radiohead CD was not only my leverage, but also my hostage; I would accept no surrender, and by any means necessary, I would get a refund or get rid of The Proclaimers' shit album. This was only fair, after all, it was the store's own forceful marketing that had caused me to err in such an amateur way, and deep down inside, I believed that I deserved a second chance. After all, I was just an innocent kid, a rookie at this, and in point of fact, a good new customer that the store's purveyors had already come to know and like. The next day after school, I left school on my bike and headed back to the store downtown. The ride up to Packard felt like 500 miles, then along Packard felt like 500 more, I biked a thousand miles just to be the man that never even made it to the store. I didn't even make it halfway; I was hit by a city bus while attempting to use the bike lane on the street. The sidewalks were covered in ice, and an Ann Arbor Transportation Association Driver named Martha, on her very first day on the job, didn't see me as she pulled in toward a stop that overlapped the bike lane. Being hit by a bus does not feel like being hit by anything else; most things that hit you in life tend to obey the laws of Newtonian Physics, wherein the action of you being hit by somebody or something has an equal and opposite reaction on whatever is doing the hitting. This is not the case with a bus hitting a thirteen year old boy on a bicycle. There was no equal and opposite reaction acting upon the city bus; the force and momentum were entirely attuned to pummeling me. I was harpooned over the curb, my bicycle transmogrified into a metal parenthesis, and my body covered with snow, slush, dirt, and blood. I did not know what had hit me, but my head was whirring, the sound of my body and bicycle crunched against the side of a bus, an enormous grunting beast of steel and aluminum transporting miserable people to and from places they didn't even really want to go, had acted like a hard reset for my soul. I was hurdled twice over and had landed face down in six inches of old, loose snow, wondering what hit me and how badly I was hurt. Instinct dictated my next move; nobody lying face down in the snow after being hit by a bus and surviving would ever do anything except this: I stood up, brushed the snow off my face and body, and stepped back to assess the damages. It was in this instinctive action that I learned the meaning of the phrase "things can always get worse." Not only was my bike destroyed, my body throbbing in pain, my left leg bleeding profusely, but I had managed to step backwards into a gigantic pile of fresh dog shit. Now, in addition to the agony of pain and suffering, shock and uncertainty, there was also an immediate "FUCK MY LIFE!" moment that had a powerful stench to compliment an otherwise shitty situation. The driver came off of the bus in a state of shock as well. I could hear her swearing loudly, and radioing to her dispatcher the worst thing one could possibly hear on the other end of the radio; something like this: "Oh lord, I hit a kid! He's hurt real bad, oh lord have mercy, what have I done!" After getting a grip on herself, Martha came off of the bus to check on me. Her first day on the job and she had done the unthinkable; no test or training video couldn't ever possibly prepare her for this scenario, and she was stir crazy with commentary about the whole thing. She called out to all the Gods in all of the universes, eulogizing her newfound career as a Bus Driver. Getting a minor handle on the situation, and seeing that I was alive and now standing, albeit covered in blood (and dog shit), she calmed down enough to ask me if I was okay. I said "Yeah, except that you just hit me with a bus!" I was not happy, and I knew that at the very least, my day, and probably week, were ruined. She told me someone was on the way to take me to the hospital. I asked her if she had any bandages or anything to stop the bleeding. She went back on the bus and came back with a small disposable napkin that had been underneath her coffee. There wasn't even a first-aid kit on the bus. She was apologetic, but I could tell she was just as much a mess as I was; although we did not share the same physical injuries, something existed far greater than the field of Physics can explain - the equal and opposite reaction of emotions when two people could not possibly be connected in any worse way than either had ever previously imagined. We were inextricably linked, and both of us could feel the angels mocking us as we awaited any possible rescue to remove us from this time and place in history. Meanwhile, a bus full of angry passengers were haranguing the world with all kinds of extra concern and frustration, and they to were trying to find out what would happen next to get them out of this time and place as quickly as possible. While I assume that most of the passengers wanted to know if the kid was alright, I remember hearing somebody asking the doomed driver how long it would be before another bus came along to pick them up. An ambulance arrived on the scene first, and I was rushed immediately to the hospital, my bike and CDs never to be seen again. On the day that I had planned to get back at the system, and if necessary, use Radiohead as leverage, like a hostage being used as a human shield, all in order to rid myself of the belief that I was fallible and prone to making mistakes when it came to picking music. We are all prone to the same failures in life, whether we acknowledge it or not. And now, to teach me this lesson once and for all, the Karma Police had taken me away, taught me what you get when you mess with them.
So beautiful! And the music too; just bought the sound track!
This is how it starts
This is how it ends
right?
right.
oof
Dear Sir/Madam,
I purchased and paid for quantity one (1)General Admission ticket on the 9th of March, 2012 online at www.ticketmaster.co.uk (REF Ticket: Ticketmaster Order Number: 19-56668/UK1) whilst living in the UK for the Radiohead Concert to be held on Monday the 8th of October, 2012 at the O2 Arena London, UK but unfortunately due to sudden personal family commitments ie, parents' illness reasons, I have had to return back home to Melbourne, Australia.
I believe Radiohead are playing on the 16th and 17th of November 2012 at Rod Laver Arena Melbourne Australia (tickets of which have already sold out), but I was wondering since I had to return home quite unexpectedly for personal reasons above; it would be appreciated if I could transfer my O2 General Admission ticket for a General Admission ticket at one of the shows here in November 2012 in Melbourne, Australia please?
I've been waiting for years and years to see Radiohead perform live; I cannot return to the UK and make it to the show in London UK. Also unfortunately I can't refund the paid single ticket because it is a paperless ticket.
Your consideration and guidance is sought accordingly.
Hear from you soon,
Kind Regards,
Niles Sheridan
Email: nilwin1@hotmail.com
Yes, I have bought my ticket. A 164 euro standing ticket, this better be worth it haha!
For those of you who haven't seen this already, here's the full concert of Radiohead at Le Reservoir. Check it out, it's truly amazing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDdjGRhkM0M&feature=related
