To many in the O2 on Saturday night, the prospect that Radiohead would actually be on the stage, actually performing music, was almost unbelievable— ever an elusive group, the band’s near-decade long hiatus has left scores of listeners waiting for their eventual return. With no word of any new music as of yet, Yorke and company were instead returning simply to walk down memory lane, reacquainting themselves with the songs that made records like 1997’s ‘OK Computer’ and 2007’s ‘In Rainbows’ so beloved. This was a chance for the band to fall back in love with their catalogue: even if we’d disagree, it was clear that for many fans, it was a show beyond compare.

As you would expect from a group so artsy and hard-to-pin-down, Radiohead’s reunion tour shied away from your conventional blocking. Rather than performing on the O2’s typical stage at the end of the arena, the band were set up directly in the middle of the ovular venue, with attendees watching from all sides. Given the softness and intimacy you’d be looking for from the group, it was a smart choice, going the extra mile to bring the band closer than ever to their fans. Even still, this was no stripped-back set, as the O2’s capacity of 20,000 (which was completely sold out, to no-one’s surprise) might imply. The opening numbers of ‘2 + 2 = 5’ and ‘Airbag’ saw the group completely surrounded by screens projecting the band within— though an interesting idea, it was a relief to finally see them in-person once the objects were lifted way up above the stage. From there on out, Radiohead’s show carried with it all the visual interest you’d expect, full of sweeping light displays and increasingly abstract depictions of each member: still, the show had little to comment on in this regard, save for the list of human rights sprawled across the stage upon the band’s exit.

As for looking at the members of Radiohead themselves (or at least what you could see, given the relatively low lighting on the stage), the band would be best described as focused and attentive. Their set-up was enormously complex, with the band swapping out instruments between every track: Thom Yorke would flit between the guitar and piano whenever it suited him, not even mentioning the bizarre array of performance mediums Jonny Greenwood took to across the set (although having said that, the playing of a guitar with a bow on ‘You And Whose Army?’ really does deserve a nod). The complexity of the group’s setlist didn’t leave much room for audience interaction though, nor did it allow the band themselves to really step into the spotlight. At times, it felt like Radiohead’s latest tour had pulled back the curtain on one of their rehearsals, allowing 20,000 fans to watch the group jam on a number of old favourites. Aside from the dazzling lights and the roar of the crowd, Yorke and company asserted that their focus was on the music, completely superseding any emphasis on showmanship.

Of course, if any band was looking to bank on the popularity of their catalogue, it should probably be one as beloved and iconic as Radiohead— if an aspect of this reunion show was immune to criticism, it was surely the vast and exploratory setlist the group unveiled across the night. With no talking between songs, Radiohead were able to cram in a whopping 25 tracks, pulling from every one of their studio albums (bar 1993’s ‘Pablo Honey,’ which was unsurprisingly excluded). The first leg of the show was nothing but hit-after-hit, with the opening notes of cuts like ‘Jigsaw Falling Into Place,’ ‘Nude’ and ‘Reckoner’ earning covetous celebration from across the venue— if anything, it was almost comical to come down from the excitement of ‘The Bends’ into an awkward silence for ‘Separator,’ complete with a mass exodus as scores of onlookers took a quick toilet break. There were obviously no technical limitations holding Radiohead back, allowing them the freedom to break out whichever songs they wanted: everything from the sweeping beauty of ‘No Surprises’ to the electronic makeup of encore-closer ‘Everything In Its Right Place’ was on the cards.

The quality of performance, meanwhile, careened between breathtaking highs and baffling lows: Radiohead were able to capture their signature magic again and again at the O2, but not without some missteps in-between. Often, the band’s softest material became some of their strongest— the way the entire audience sang along to the heartbreaking melodies of ‘Street Spirit (Fade Out)’ and ‘Weird Fishes / Arpeggi’ was a tearjerker, aided by a visceral passion in Thom Yorke’s voice. A particularly stripped-back version of ‘Present Tense’ was also a highlight, drawing out a tenderness from the song that felt impossible from a show of this scale. Elsewhere though, you could see audience members dancing in the aisles of the seated areas: it was surely only possible by the wonderful talent of Philip Selway, who’s sharp drumming brought an additional punch to a number of tracks. ‘Sit Down. Stand Up’ built to a climax far bolder and more impressive than its recorded counterpart, seeing Radiohead earn their status as ‘rock’ stars: ‘The Bends’ brought out a similar response, coming as a welcome flood of energy in the middle of the set.

On the other side of the coin was ‘Idioteque,’ which was reduced to a jumbled collection of percussive hits topped by Yorke’s maniacal rambling: where the song is normally a fantastic example of coldly organised chaos, this rendition went way off the rails. In some of the set’s wildest moments, it could feel like the band were having more fun than the audience were— explosive numbers like ‘Bodysnatchers’ require a restraint that wasn’t quite there on Saturday night, while the ferocious climax of ‘2 + 2 = 5’ was neutered by the aforementioned screens blocking the band from view. In some cases, it could feel like Radiohead were battling against a live mix designed only for their softest songs: the rumbling bass that defines ‘All I Need’ and the screeching mellotrons that hit in ‘Exit Music (For A Film)’ felt buried, leaving those tracks’ crescendos lagging behind their quieter passages for intensity. With highs as high as the likes of ‘Let Down’ and ‘Pyramid Song’ in the setlist, which were both executed with complete conviction, it was simply a little strange to see Radiohead occasionally missing the mark.

The central purpose of this reunion tour, it seems, was for Radiohead to get comfortable playing with one another, and to immerse themselves in their own catalogue once again: the deafening noise of the crowd seemed almost like an afterthought. Yorke and company have written some of the defining albums of the last few decades, and it was an immense pleasure to hear those songs performed live after such a lengthy hiatus— it just wasn’t quite as sacred of an experience as maybe it could’ve been. Radiohead are touring again, and that alone was enough to sell out the O2: even despite our gripes, we can’t deny how special select moments of the performance could feel.