Last week a Radiohead-head friend offered me a ticket for the last of their run of shows at London’s O2 Arena. The poor, deluded fool had paid several hundred quid and was looking to recoup. I politely declined, saying I would rather suffer from decompression sickness. My friend was not amused – but then that’s Radiohead fans for you; liking the band is a serious business.

The band is currently on a mega tour of Europe and the reviews have been mixed. Some fans complain about the relentless flashing imagery, while others have pointed out that hanging gauze curtains around a circular stage might not be the best way to feel close to your heroes. Not that they’d be missing much. I mean, you’d hardly describe Radiohead as flamboyant showmen. These nice, privately educated chaps prefer the rock-in-trade uniformity of grey shirts and matching grey flannels. Freddie Mercury they are not.

I find the fad for rock understatement both a contradiction in terms and annoying. Rock stars don’t like to be seen to be making an effort. They want us to believe they are just like us – but much, much cooler. But it’s been going on now for decades, well before Radiohead........

© The Spectator