To London last night with Chris and Melanie, to see Radiohead at Earl’s Court.
Pizza Hut first, where we sat opposite a George Lucas looky-likey (“but with a chin” according to Chris). We got to Earl’s Court in what we thought was plenty of time, but (along with several thousand others) were surprised to find that the support (Asian Dub Foundation) had scarpered already and the boys were on. We missed hardly anything though.
All the usual tunes, yer standard singalongs. (Americans and pseudo-Americans! You might be able to listen to it too.)
Unlike last time, we didn’t get wet. But I think I stood next to the Chairman and General Secretary of the Chain Smokers Association.
Two encores later, we started to head home when it was clear they’d gone off for good. But the toilets and the T-shirt stand beckoned, and by the time we left the building we were several thousand back in the race for the tube. The West Brompton tube was similarly chokka.
So we took a cab back to King’s Cross. “You see so much more than on the tube,” said Chris (he’d been drinking).
Sadly we had to take the 00:06 back to Cambridge, which stops at every opportunity. Still, I could have a lie in…