Friday night, day three of Radiohead’s four night residency at Madison Square Garden, Thom Yorke gave President Trump a mouthful: “(Trump) made a fool of himself, made a fool of the Queen, made a fool of our country. Fuck you. ” to thunderous applause. Thom, who doesn’t speak much to his audience at all, indeed this was by far his largest interaction with us for the night, sounded cold and white hot in anger.
My review will be up later today (they were great) but before that let’s wonder how the always resolutely upper middle class, public school toffee nosed, University challenge Oxfordshire Radiohead stood up for “ain’t no human being,” fascist regime, figurehead with a corgi Liz II. If you have any working class credentials, sneering at the Windsors comes with the territory. In a time of totalitarian anarchy, the Windsors are famous for more blatantly useless reasons than the Kardashians, and I find it endlessly amusing that Trump arrived late, nearly broke Liz’s hand by shaking it too hard, walked in front of her, and essentially #we’reamericabitch the entire country.
But if that was bad etiquette, his treating of the Tory Prime Minister was just deserts 101. Theresa May is doing her best to scuttle the will of the people by having a “soft Brexit” and essentially keeping many of the trading deals that the UK wanted killing with Europe in tact. Trump stuck a spanner in the horrible woman’s plans by announcing that if they don’t make a hard break with Europe, Britain can’t expect a special trade deal with the US. This was absolutely hysterical. He took one of May’s biggest talking points and shoved it up her nose. Who the hell supports Prime Minister May? She is a lousy politician in way over her head. There are worlds of difference between brutalizing Mexicans running for their lives and telling the useless Theresa May to fuck off,. one is repulsive and the other, well, isn’t.
Meanwhile, 40 years after the Sex Pistols caught the Royal Family in a bottle on “God Save The Queen,” Radiohead rang in their support,for the incestuous, spoilt, royalty by birth, jackasses and the insipid Tory Party, and sucked them off. For a shot at Trump? No future, indeed.
dance pop, gooey confection
75K EAUs is abysmal
“I still hit the ball, I just can’t run the bases!!!”
contenders for the best punk rock around
A three hours of hard rock, metal not metal, swift, loud, egoless pure metal
worse than I remembered it being
a contender for the next Michael Jackson
the indie gorgeousness of mood and quiet desperation
smooth jazz and horns
Taylor was no longer my secret