It’s been a few weeks and I’m still sitting staring into space at odd moments, eyes fixed on objects that aren’t of any consequence. I’m just still trying to find the words.
I don’t know where I’m supposed to find them. The phrases and sentences, the arrangement of syllables, to describe Radiohead in an amphitheatres, playing to thousands, standing shoulder to shoulder, yet still feeling completely alone, all probably thinking the same very thing.
I’m not here and this isn’t happening.
Because when a band transcends the things that a critic might throw at them (but not anymore) and even the biggest of names shrugs their shoulders and concedes that one band is truly the best band in the world, there reaches a point where any words a person can conjure really doesn’t make anything of an impact.
I could write things like beautiful and lovely and perfect and amazing. And they would all be completely appropriate. But they’d be lacking in conveying that feeling of standing, shivering, hair soaked from the rain, with every bit of myself buzzing with excitement and a sensation of total peace.
I could explain that listening to the song Nude made my chest clench. That How to Disappear Completely left tears in my eyes. That by the time they played Street Spirit, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I could do these things and maybe they would begin to cover it, but really, no one would ever have any idea.
It’s Radiohead. And maybe I should just leave it at that.