& ONE DAY I AM GONNA GROW WINGS

Back amongst the multitudes, a sensation of togetherness with humanity began to take hold. A middle-aged couple with a gorgeous, glowstick-tentacled jellyfish on a long pole was cutting a swath through the crowd like a bioluminescent wedding procession and I promptly fell in step behind and followed their gauzy, glowing lead further into the crowd. Every woman I passed was an angel-faced pixie fairy, her cheeks decorated with bright paint, her hair adorned with feathers – each a variation on Wendy amongst the Lost Boys, tramping off to have wild adventures. Every mouth was smiling, or singing, or laughing, and we were all one. When Yorke launched into “House of Cards” it seemed as though everyone grabbed a lover or a friend and held her tight, and for a few brief moments, 80,000 people became 40,000 snuggly pairs, swaying together, embracing in the moonlight. When the encore began with “Give Up the Ghost,” and those 80,000 people raised their voices together in a hypnotic chant of “don’t hurt me,” it felt more like prayer than anything I’ve done since I was a child. Yorke’s simple song titles and perfectly worded, deceptively profound lyrics will creep up on you, and without notice, change the way you think about the world. His music has the power to preserve moments in amber, and resurrect emotions thought lost in the mists of youth. He’s working, quite frankly, on a whole other level. There’s a reason Radiohead gets to do this stuff. There’s a reason they get called the greatest band in the world.