THERE’S HARDLY a better transcendence test for live music than whether it can overcome unforeseen obstacles like weather or technical difficulties. Sunday, when Radiohead played for Washington, D.C., God handed them a challenge appropriate for their stature: a record-shattering deluge that flooded the northern Virginia area, soaked most of the audience to its bones, and prevented a significant number from even making it to the performance at all. (According to the Colin Greenwood, Washington rains crash Radiohead’s shows like a “biblical plague.” Next tour: frogs).

Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood plays “The National Anthem.”

While still spic-and-span after thirteen years of operation, Nissan Pavilion in Bristow, Virginia is infamous for its ill-designed parking and the inability of the smallish surrounding roads to handle the traffic burden of a major concert. Regular patrons (and their aren’t many) prepare for three-hour tailgate parties, as there’s no chance of moving escaping the anarchic exodus any sooner. But by this morning, ripped off Radiohead fans and internet pundits had the D.C. blogs buzzing with curses on Nissan, tearful accounts of misery, and shots at Radiohead for their “self-righteous prattling” — shilling for public transportation while passing over plenty of respectable venues in favor of one that forced fans to drive gazillions of cars gazillions of miles out into the middle of nowhere. One fan, for good measure, made sure the debacle was noted in the Pavilion’s Wikipedia entry, while another urged Nissan to admit that it is only realistically accessible by helicopter.

The central question of this experience was thus abruptly redirected from “did Radiohead play a killer show” (they did) to “was it possible to enjoy it even if they did.” There was no way out of the disaster— as much as better planning could have saved hundreds a good deal of misery, even the best prepared got their share of the discomfort. (My group knew that it was a bad idea to order lawn tickets for a Radiohead show and that it would be a bad idea to try to arrive late, for example, but still got soaked on entry and shivered in the chilly wind for the next four hours). Liars frontman Angus Andrew exhorted the sparse, dispirited crowd as the invisible sun was setting: “You can’t feel cold when you’re seeing Radiohead!” Like his band’s opening set, it was a hollow if well-intentioned attempt to rally the soggy faithful around the idea of sticking it out for good music. As we all so painfully discovered, you absolutely can see Radiohead while you’re feeling cold— really cold— and it’s an experience you thereafter probably wouldn’t repeat for vast sums of money.

Thom Yorke.

The actual performance, a mere two-ish hours of what for most was an eight to ten hour saga, was the best defense of the madness. After the interminable construction of the light set, Radiohead entered the house carrying their signature flashlight and banged through half of In Rainbows right off the bat (they eventually played the entire album). It was a classic case of “band plays new material to new fans’ screams as loyal fans pine for classics,” except in this instance, the “old fans” made up the entire audience. As much as epic cuts like “15 Step” and “Nude” rocked, the pitch-perfect performances of In Rainbows in-betweens like “Faust Arp” and “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi,” paled in comparison to a thrashing, improvised rendition of “Idioteque,” and a fleshed-out, colorful version of “Everything In Its Right Place.” Hated as it may be, Nissan Pavilion is famous for its dazzling light shows, and the Kid A highlights employed them to greatest effect— frenetic, psychedelic, and constantly mesmerizing.

Contrasting with the first few shows of the tour, a good deal of OK Computer made it into the set list. While “Karma Police,” which showed up during the first encore, felt a bit sing-alongy and obligatory, the alternately beautiful and muscular “Paranoid Android” went down as the undisputed highlight. Yorke described it as “a nasty song,” and nasty it was— the house lights rotated furiously between red and blue during the roaring, climactic choruses, and the crowd joined in for the falling action (“rain down, rain down.” ) A few glances around confirmed that the cruel irony wasn’t lost on anyone.

I was curious to see if the live show would tip the scales that perfectly balance Radiohead’s craziness and fastidious perfectionism. It did so clearly toward the latter, though the most inspired moments were the ones where the band at least pretended to let loose of their intense focus. But there’s something to be said for pulling off twenty-five world-renown pieces of music without a hitch (sans two false starts of “Faust Arp” ). Every note was hit perfectly, every distortion and accent blended perfectly. There was nothing for Thom York even to say, as it all spoke for itself: Radiohead are everything they purport to be— organic originality, unbeholden to industry, fashion, or weather.

Set List (links to best videos from the show): All I Need / Jigsaw Falling Into Place / Lucky / 15 Step / Nude / Pyramid Song / Weird Fishes/Arpeggi / Myxomatosis / Idioteque / Faust Arp / Videotape / Paranoid Android / Just / Reckoner / Everything In Its Right Place / Bangers + Mash / Bodysnatchers // Like Spinning Plates / Optimistic / Karma Police / Go Slowly / Planet Telex // Fake Plastic Trees / The National Anthem / House of Cards.

ALL PHOTOS BY MYJACKETISINTHEKITCHEN.