adiohead is accused of crafting impenetrable art-rock behemoths and alternately whining and emotionless mope-rock almost as much as they are championed for saving modern music. With their 2000-2001 world tour and the subsequent document of the tour, I Might Be Wrong, Radiohead lays to rest any doubts that they aren't the most vital band out there within the first track.


Having abandoned the vast, epic guitar workouts of OK Computer for the swirling, synth-driven oceans of studio trickery that dominates much of the band's 2000/2001 double-whammy of Kid A/Amnesiac, the concern was that rock's most incendiary live band would turn into a stoic collective on knob twiddlers. This fear proved to be unfounded, as the newer electronic-based tracks were given complete sonic overhauls.


The fiery spirit that die-hard fans could perceive lurking in the heart of Kid A and Amnesiac is brought to the foreground. The more traditional arrangements show just how immaculately crafted these tunes really are. Stripped of their canyons-deep layers of computer programming and droning synthesizers, songs such as "Like Spinning Plates" and "Idioteque" bristle with intensity and searing musicianship.


Taken from a collection of shows during the tour, I Might Be Wrong opens with the bass-driven monolith of "The National Anthem." In the studio version, "The National Anthem" is capped with a gale of chaotic brass horns; live, the horns are replaced with Johnny Greenwood's frayed guitar, which grapples with brother Colin Greenwood's knuckle-dragging bass lines, which he lays down like ribbons of napalm.


All the while, Thom Yorke functions as the hurricane's eye, letting lose a holy cry of frustration as only he can, his thin yet unbreakable voice piercing the sheets of instrumental thuggery.


Even more impressive is the reinvention of "I Might Be Wrong." As the beat is increased to a frantic pace, Greenwood's guitar is allowed to cut loose, something that was unthinkable on their studio efforts. "I Might Be Wrong" foams at the mouth, as Yorke whips himself into a frenzy, as the track veers direction from sharp-toothed noise rock into a swampy jam, yet never meandering or dull.


Likewise, "Morning Bell" shows just how valuable drummer Phil Selway is in reigning the band in, preventing them from spinning out of control. Selway infuses the narcoleptic riffs with spiky arpeggios of jazz beats, showing that behind the computer banks of the studio versions, there is a human heart beating.


"Everything In Its Right Place" and "Idioteque," two Radiohead songs that are entirely electronic-based, are given a new look live as well. Embryonic keyboard notes and subtle bass swell around as Yorke's voice is Cuisinarted into something unrecognizable. Johnny Greenwood goes to work at his bank of electronics, and yes - twiddles some knobs.


The highlight of I Might Be Wrong is "Like Spinning Plates," however. Radiohead take their most experimental moment to date - a rhythmic slab of underwater electronics and backwards-vocals and turn it into a heart-wrenching and haunting ballad. "While you make pretty speeches/I'm being torn to shreds," Yorke sings, silencing the cries that this is an emotionless band. A simple piano refrain stands alone to back up Yorke, proving that minimalism is oftentimes the best solution.


As an extra incentive for die-hards to purchase I Might Be Wrong (most huge fans already own numerous bootlegs), the previously unreleased fan favorite "True Love Waits" is tacked on at the end. While it isn't as hypnotic as the older live version (with Johnny Greenwood on keyboards), this Thom and acoustic guitar-only version is Radiohead at their most emotionally direct best. "True Love Waits" shows that while Radiohead is adept at all genres, they are at their most vital when stripped of all their armor, leaving the song to sink or swim on its own merits.


I Might Be Wrong is all the proof doubters should need to relinquish the belief that Radiohead has forgotten how to rock. The 8-song EP is one big malevolent sneer at their critics, and a precious gift to their fans.