You used to be alright, what happened?

Daydream Festival, Barcelona Parc del Forum, 12/06/08

Something a bit different, then. Team Glasto from last year didn’t like the sound of 2008’s offerings. A little comment on that - I’m not going to join in on the mildly racist Jay Z Shouldn’t Headline rants, main stage headliners really don’t matter at Glasto. It’s a little saddening that the whole thing has turned into a PR disaster. I wouldn’t be surprised if Eavis jacks it in, if this is how people are going to behave. We don’t deserve a Glastonbury. Anyway, I’m going to be moving house that weekend so we went in search of a new challenge. Radiohead in Barcelona? Shop.

Radiohead are currently enjoying a peek in a career of increasing peeks. In Rainbows is their most undemanding and simple record since The Bends, and sees them really kicking back and having fun, after Hail To The Thief’s rather over-reaching, bloated-yet-content fun. And let’s not forget them doing the music industry up the arse, just when it didn’t need another bumming. “Doing a Radiohead” circa Kid A meant releasing a scary electro album. Now it’s synonymous with giving away your wares for nothing. Fair play, them and the other big boys can afford it. But most record labels still don’t know how to deal with the internet and have stood dumbfounded since the glory days of Napster. People are just refusing to pay for anything these days.

Clinic started our festival with their Hawaiian shirts and surgical masks, pounding through some organ heavy rock. Funnelled indecipherable lyrics in hypnotic spirals. The likes of Walking With Thee, Second Line and Evil Bill got some recognition down the front. The rest of us basked in the welcome sun after the half-arsed storms had passed over.

M83 suffered from poor sound and my drinking. I only recognised one song, Don’t Save Us From The Flames, and that was at half volume. Since they’ve been around for longer than The Teenagers they should be doing better than those lousy frogs.

Bat For Lashes was charming the sunset with her Kate Bush meets the listenable moments of early Bjork sweetness. If that sounds like a lazy cut and paste description then I had drunk quite a bit by then. This being an eco-festival, we gazed at the massive solar panel while sipping from our refillable souvenir cups. Three Euros for not even a half pint of tepid Cerveza? No mi gusta.

Then came Radiohead.

“You used to be alright, what happened?”

What happened? Tubes descending the stage providing a magnificent light show, the audience sending adoration and gratification their way. This is a band that rarely tours, and with a new environmental stipulation catching them is rarer still. We won’t go into the size of my carbon footprint after flying out especially to see this.

15 Step clicked things started. There was a playful nature on stage, like this was the night of the last school dance and everyone had got laid. Bodysnatchers and All I Need continued the new material’s strong live adaptation, with In Rainbows aired in its entirety.

The crowd were just that little bit more passionate than the ones back home. No arms-crossed “impress me” stance, no tagalongs, just a few thousand people dancing in the sunset. Every new song got a cheer, every old one a collective intake of breath.

Complaints? Apparently they rehearsed over 70 songs for this tour. With that amount of material to grasp at, I wouldn’t have lost any sleep if Optimistic and The Gloaming weren’t aired. Karma Police, Street Spirit and No Surprises were conspicuous by their absence. The Bends just seemed clunky compared to the likes of Jigsaw and Bodysnatchers. Biggest clanger was Bangers & Mash in the encore. As fun as it was to see Yorke spaff out on his mini Meg White drum kit, it was time to get the hits out, not play rare Disc Two tracks. But these are minor. You're seeing Radiohead. Revel in it.

Highlights? You And Whose Army and the terrifying Yorkecam. Spazzdance o’clock in Idioteque. The lush of Nude. What felt like the US flag being shot to bits in Paranoid Android. There There soaring skywards. House Of Cards. A million, million times House Of Cards.

I could go on, but then I’d just have to start making up hyperbolic adjectives.

Planet Telex closed the night. “Why can’t you forget?” Memory, the abundance or lack there of seems to be the recurring theme that links all seven records. The tubes went suitable Rainbowed. I would have liked a different set closer, but despite what I said above, to quibble with a Radiohead setlist is to be a fucking dick.

Radiohead are still one of the biggest bands in the world, consistently mixing commercial success, critical acclaim and freedom of expression. There is no other force like them.

Kebab Watch: At 1am? In residential Barca? No chance. We came across a random biker indie bar to collect supplies for mammoth 5 mile trek home. We also befriended a German-Columbian couple who thanklessly guided us back. God bless you Nick and Carolina, owe you a pint. On the way were followed by a zombie, or a punter on a mammoth comedown. Didn’t stick around to find out which.

I know your hands will clap

Lykke Li + El Perro Del Mar, Leeds Hi-Fi Club, 03/06/2008

The Hi-Fi club was tingling with anticipation, and tingle it might. Lykke Li has knocked The Blogs for six with her whispered heartaches and lo-fi loneliness. Could she deliver?

Before we could answer that we had a subtle opening set from El Perro Del Mar. A dusty-eyed Hope Sandoval singing into the sunset, she gave us slow burning songs designed for a night of stargazing in the desert.

And then Lykke Li took over the stage and stamped her domination on the evening. I knew this was going to be good, but I was shocked at just how good. Dancing, swaying, stamping, pointing, we belonged to her. Despite a minimal musical accompaniment, the songs were louder and pumped full of confidence compared to the skeletal recorded versions. Little Bit throbbed with a heartbeat of desire, and Breaking It Up was hollered through a megaphone, feedback ringing.

I’m Good, I’m Gone closed the main set and the dancing finally took off, we were clapping at all the right moments and getting rewarded with a knowing grin. She’s amassed a fine collection of pop songs that work their way into your consciousness. And encore came with a slow number followed by what appeared to be a cover of Walk On The Wild Side...until the drums kicked in to make it Can I Kick It. With some old skool hip hop shapes thrown in, she kicked it. She OWNED it.

Lykke is a star. 2008 will be hers, hell give her the next few decades. And make the most of these club shows, she won’t be playing many more tiny venues.

Kebab Watch – no food tonight, a belly full of vodka saw off any hunger.