Radiohead are on a bit of a ‘best-of’ tour across Europe, with the band trying out live performances together for the first time in seven years. I had the incredibly good fortune of securing a ticket through one of my uni friends (networking really does pay off) for their final show in London and I’m still reliving this moment through my shaky recordings and ‘On repeat’ playlist.

The band opted for a circular stage at the centre of the O2, surrounded by a movable see-through grill covered in lights forming a screen for visual effects and camera shots of the stage itself, which doubled as a cage for our beloved musicians. The visuals they projected were fun but not too distracting, and the band members moved around so that everyone in the venue managed to get a good look at Thom’s wiggly dance moves (anything you do is cool when you’re Mr. Radiohead), Jonny’s hair flopping, and Colin and Ed’s joyful expressions (Philip was hidden at the centre behind everyone, as is often the drummer’s plight).

“We were given the privilege of watching Radiohead work in their musical workshop, and show off their innovative use of sound”

Radiohead are known for their insistence on not using playback, which was embodied by the large array of instruments and musical machinery I couldn’t name crowding the stage (especially Jonny’s section), that the band members would occasionally dart off to to start playing a piano riff, drum loop or synth. We didn’t just get to appreciate music, we were given the privilege of watching Radiohead work in their musical workshop, and show off their innovative use of sound.

I found myself observing the people attending too, and wondering how each person interprets the band and their music. As a metal fan, I’m used to small venues where you can expect pretty much everyone to belong to the subculture and to dress the part, so it’s interesting for me to see how more mainstream artists like Radiohead draw such eclectic audiences. I’ve always known that Radiohead are really popular, but frankly I chalked that up to how universal feelings of grief, loneliness, and general melancholy are in our day and age. Instead of the mope fest I expected, I was confronted by happy families, rugby lads, and just generally cheerful-looking people.

Don’t get me wrong, any type of music is for anyone and everyone, and Radiohead can absolutely deliver light hearted, danceable grooves like ‘Jigsaw Falling Into Place’, which had the entire arena dancing and humming along. But let’s be real, Radiohead are known for producing some of the most depressing songs ever written (and I love them for it). They don’t need to stick to the minor key: some of their most depressing work is in the major key (‘True Love Waits’, ’Fake Plastic Trees’, ’Creep’ to name a few) and it all boils down to the lyrics. I’d also argue that emotions other than sadness are an exception in their music, and even ‘happier’ songs like ‘Weird Fishes / Arpeggi’ (another track that had everyone dancing) have a tinge of melancholy to them.

“Instead of the mope fest I expected, I was confronted by happy families, rugby lads, and just generally cheerful-looking people”

I suppose that’s the power of interpretation, and it speaks to how excellent Radiohead’s music is. As an example: while I was standing in solemn, teary-eyed appreciation of ‘Street Spirit (Fade Out)’, most of my neighbours were happily dancing along to what I’d consider a pretty haunting song about mortality and the pointlessness of life. Is this what going to a The Smiths concert felt like?

Another one of my favourite audience moments was when one of the girls sitting in front of me got up to start dancing to ‘Pyramid song’, but her sister pulled her back down into her seat with an amused “maybe not for this one!” Shame, I was curious how she’d manage to dance to the weird syncopated rhythm. Other highlights of the evening were the extra punchy bass lines in ‘Sit Down, Stand Up’, ’Present Tense’, and of course, ‘Idioteque’. I’ve found myself listening to the live recordings of these more often now, the studio versions where the bass isn’t nearly as prominent.

Maybe the best testament to Radiohead’s quality as a band was what wasn’t in the setlist, which was noticeably biased in favour of OK Computer and In Rainbows. We were treated to only two songs from A Moon Shaped Pool, and again only two from Kid A. We didn’t even get ‘Karma Police’, we didn’t get ‘Fake Plastic Trees’, and of my ten or so favourite Radiohead songs they only played three. Yet it was easily one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to, and probably the most consistently great setlist I’ve experienced in my years of going to gigs. Radiohead is one of the few bands where you could craft a completely valid top 10 from pretty much all of their discography (yes, even including Pablo Honey, I’m not a snob). With such a vast catalogue of musical excellence, their legacy as one of the greatest rock bands ever is much deserved.