/reader

My State of the Word, in a tweet#

• I saw a post from my friend Matt Mullenweg where he said they're working on WordPress for the next generation. I like that idea.#
• I'm doing the same, myself -- only I'm one generation ahead of Matt. So the improvements I'm working on will likely end up benefiting people his age and younger (he's 41) more than people of mine (I'm a boomer).#
• I want to leave them the web we had in the 90s and 00s, but doing a lot of the new things we've learned how to do since, without the silos. #
• Everything built on the web, everything replaceable, choice for users. And all the writing features of the web show through. #
• When this done, the writer's web will be as open as podcasting, something I had a hand in developing. Any time you want to switch platforms, you can, and lose absolutely nothing. #
• It's not decentralized, it's uncentralized. Important distinction. #
• The storage system for writing, by default, is WordPress, thanks to their fantastic wpcom API, which very few people know about apparently. They opened this door in 2017, I didn't discover it until 2023. My chin dropped. All of a sudden storage for writers was openly available through a simple API. #
• WordPress is of the web. You're not locked into hosting with any specific company, and you can run your own, and it's a lot easier to install and uses less resources than Mastodon, which right now is the only social networking software you can install on your own server. We can do a lot better. #
• So this would be my "State of the Word" from the point of view of the web. Let me know what you think!#

• Taking care of WordPress for the next generation.#

• This appeared in a tweet this morning. #

It feels good in the same way I feel when something good happens to my children or grandchildren.

I think that’s such a lovely way to express it.

Feeling good about something you once created without being tied to it. No ego, just gratitude. No head in the clouds, just both feet on the ground.

The world could use more of that. Too often we try to recreate the past, and every time we fail, of course.

It’s the “isness” that makes things magic. The creative energy of the now, that’s what brings out the originality, the extraordinary, the sense of being connected.

It’s the appreciation of this moment, here and now, that leaves the print of something timeless.

 

From one of the best seats in the entire arena, I watched my favourite band for the fourth time. Within minutes, I knew this would be my all-time favourite gig.

Obviously, skip this if you don’t appreciate Radiohead; I wrote it for myself and other fans. And if the band’s touring history prompts you to message me about Israel’s apartheid against Palestinians, note that I reference this in the footnotes.

Last year, we got together to rehearse, just for the hell of it. After a seven year pause, it felt really good to play the songs again and reconnect with a musical identity that has become lodged deep inside all five of us. It also made us want to play some shows together, so we hope you can make it to one of the upcoming dates. For now, it will just be these ones but who knows where this will all lead.

When these somewhat surprising residencies were announced, I pledged that whatever it took, I would be there. To thwart touts, an initial lottery was announced, and as the results arrived, it seemed that most friends were getting rejection emails. I feared the worst, but with minutes to go, Geri received a code. We agreed (along with friends Jon and Leigh) that if all we could get was pricey VIP tickets, we’d stump up without regret.

As it turned out, we secured front-row seats, and I’d been buzzing for two months. But, me being me, I worried about everything: some people had their orders cancelled; would ours be ok? Would the band bring enough energy? Would Thom be grumpy?^[1] And what about the talk of boycotts and threats of protests?^[2]

I need not have worried. So here are two reasons why these shows feel different.

Firstly, they’re different for me because I care about this band far more than I used to (and I always cared a lot) because in recent years I’ve come to lean on them almost like tutors as I’ve worked to improve my approach to writing and producing music. Books like Brad Osborn’s mind-frazzlingly academic Everything In Its Right Place and video breakdowns from YouTubers like Ixi have taken me deep into the finer details, and I’ve started to appreciate their music at increasingly macro levels. So whilst I always loved these songs, I wasn’t sure why. Now, I find myself in that slightly embarrassing position of talking a bit too much about Radiohead — I’ve transcended to superfan status. And that’s OK, because it’s never wrong to move closer to what you love.

And secondly, the shows are different for everyone because we’re used to a certain kind of format. I’ve seen Radiohead three times previously: Glastonbury 1997, Nottingham 2003, and Manchester 2017. In each case, they were very far away — nice and safe, with a cavernous stage dead-ending the arena, as is the norm. The typical big rock show. For this tour, they’re in the round: a small circular stage in the middle of the arena.^[3]

Once the cage that supports the video screens lifts, it’s just them and their instruments — exposed, surrounded. The setup is similar to the From The Basement sessions, except that they’re facing not each other, but us. It serves to make an enormous arena show feel more intimate, because you can always see your fellow audience members behind the band — everyone swept up into something special together. I know that for some on the floor it’s been occasionally frustrating when band members are out of sight (they do move around, though), but for any of us in seats (and friends in the nosebleeds agree), it’s thrillingly perfect, even if the entire band is rarely in view at once.

Our front row seats elevated us to stage level, and closest to Jonny and Thom’s primary stations, so when the band tore into something boisterous like Bodysnatchers or Optimistic and I’d see them giving their all in this improbable format, my brain would scream SIMON, THAT’S FUCKING RADIOHEAD! because I was in disbelief at the way it was happening. It was visceral and breathtaking in a way that no other big-show format is. I’ll also add that this is the first time I’ve ever been to a gig in London that wasn’t ruined by idiots talking throughout. I know we were seated, but I could see the standing punters clearly and I think all 20,000 people were utterly captivated.

I’d monitored emerging setlist patterns and the approximate A/B variants Radiohead are working with. 2 + 2 = 5, EIIRP, Weird Fishes/Arpeggi, Paranoid Android and Let Down (the new Creep, thanks to TikTok) are staples, whilst others tend to appear on alternate evenings. I was right to expect several of my favourites such as Nude, Reckoner, Pyramid Song, and The Daily Mail.

My absolute favourite moments were, possibly in order: being possessed by the intertwining offset grooves of Weird Fishes, the pin-drop silence during Nude, a blistering Bodysnatchers, Jonny doing his Paranoid Android violence right in front of me, and every single shiver-inducing moment of Exit Music (For a Film).

Some songs remind us what a powerful, tight garage rock band they were and still can be: the energy they bring to Jigsaw, Bodysnatchers, and Optimistic is genuinely exciting, especially with this stage format. And they seem to be — in a Radiohead kind of way — enjoying themselves and rediscovering a sense of pride in these songs, surprisingly excited to crank out nineties guitar stuff like The Bends, or reassuringly proud of something deeply of its time like Street Spirit.

I don’t really have any gripes about the show. They’ve rehearsed around 65 songs, and I’d hoped to hear How To Disappear Completely — possibly my favourite track — but it’s only had a couple of airings so far this tour. The setlists have been biased towards OK Computer, Hail To The Thief and In Rainbows, which is wonderful, but we’re getting sparse offerings from Kid A, Amnesiac, The King of Limbs and A Moon Shaped Pool. And of course I’d have loved Fake Plastic Trees and There, There. And Karma Police would always be my perfect closer. To be honest, I’d sit through their entire discography (well, only Creep from Pablo Honey, thanks).

And, you know, some songs don’t really work that well live sometimes, like Idioteque (it always sounded good live in the 2000s, but not here for some reason), and maybe Paranoid Android was a little disjointed here and there, and Jonny’s Kaoss Pad wasn’t really audible during EIIRP.

But really, I’ve barely any negatives to dwell on. I’d almost given up on ever seeing them tour again, so this all feels a bit miraculous, not least because Radiohead seem to be... having fun?! And I’m incredibly grateful to be part of it, not sat at home looking in from the outside at setlists and reading reviews with a deep sigh.^[4] Radiohead are back — on stage, at least — and I was there. Unexpectedly, and in a brilliant way, this is really happening.

Footnotes

1. I’m somewhat haunted by their gig at Nottingham Arena in 2003, when Thom was clearly not in the mood and a flat crowd didn’t help. “Don’t worry, Stereophonics will be here next week,” he sneered, referencing the unfeasibly popular but perennially boring Welsh band. ↩︎
2. I won’t get into this deeply here because I fully understand my sensitivity to important global issues and know when to act. I’ve left social networks, switched music platforms, and washed my hands of several bands and artists. If you need context in this case, read this recent interview and go from there. What I will say is this: I remain deeply upset by the dehumanising of Palestinians, and while I do think Radiohead (and Jonny) have made missteps on the issue, the band’s overall political worldview aligns with my own in more ways than not. And they despise Netanyahu’s regime. Based on everything I know, I do not consider Radiohead “Zionist traitors”. ↩︎
3. I read that for their recent tour, Nine Inch Nails used a small circular stage for more intimate songs, and that may have influenced Radiohead. My only previous experience of an in-the-round (and, on that occasion, spinning) stage was Beastie Boys at Wembley Arena, and that wild night has lived long in my memory. The place went nuts. ↩︎
4. I do realise that might be salt in a wound. I think with this post I’m attempting to present my delight as a way of saying, “I know I’m fortunate, so rest assured I channelled the energy of all my friends who couldn’t be there and enthused for all of us.” ↩︎

Setlist

Saturday 22nd November, 2025
O2 Arena, London

• 2 + 2 = 5
• Airbag
• Jigsaw Falling Into Place
• All I Need
• Ful Stop
• Nude
• Reckoner
• The Bends
• Separator
• Pyramid Song
• You and Whose Army?
• Sit Down. Stand Up.
• Myxomatosis
• No Surprises
• Optimistic
• Bodysnatchers
• Exit Music (for a Film)
• Street Spirit (Fade Out)

Encore:

• Let Down
• Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
• Idioteque
• Present Tense
• The Daily Mail
• Paranoid Android
• Everything in Its Right Place

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