Below that, he's posted photos from his recent field trip to Jazzfest in New Orleans. Out of sheer jealously I'd call it a junket, except that he went on his own dime just to enjoy himself and snap a few pictures.

I ask because Radiohead played without what you could call Lawn TV - the venue's twin-video screens, which are mounted at the back edge of the pavilion roof in order to extend the show visually to the big, unreserved seating on the grassy hill.

Even without screens, you would of course still be able see the stage and hear the music. But for me, on a brief trek across the lawn about eight songs into Radiohead's set, the band felt farther away than bands playing Cruzan usually do. I attributed that sensation to the missing video.

I understand Radiohead left the lawn screens off as an energy-saving measure, on a tour that's partly an experiment in reducing the greenhouse gas emissions linked to climate change. The band commissioned a report of its energy use on past tours and is looking for ways to lower its carbon profile.

I'm just not sure this step justified depriving the lawn seats of a useful visual aid. As the study points out, audiences driving to and from concerts cause the overwhelming majority of the emissions; tour sound and lighting are a comparatively small contributor to the greenhouse effect.

So was it lame being green on the lawn? Or was it alright?

Meanwhile, here's the set list:

All I Need
Bodysnatchers
There There
Reckoner
The Gloaming
Amnesiac/Morning Bell
Nude
How to Disappear Completely
15 Step
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
Idioteque
Bulletproof ... I Wish I Was
Where I End and You Begin
Airbag
Everything in its Right Place
The National Anthem
Videotape

(first encores)

Optimistic
Just
Faust ARP
Exit Music (For a Film)
Bangers and Mash

(second encores)

House of Cards
Street Spirit (Fade Out)

More on Radiohead from Click! our photo-staff blog

From the second song on it was mostly blues, with a few of the hits along the way. Clapton gave second guitarist Doyle Bramhall II room to play both regular and slide guitar, and keyboardist Chris Stainton had a few solo spots as well. Clapton sounded good, but seemed to be going through the motions at times. Bramhall didn't really get it going, either, during his solos. But Stainton was energetic, and I got the impression he was trying to move things along.

Clapton's voice was in fine form throughout, and the vocals of Bramhall and the two background singers were spot-on. A solo acoustic interlude where Clapton played Driftin' and Driftin' was one of the high points of the night.

The full band returned and stayed mostly acoustic for Wonderful Tonight. Of course, Bramhall and Clapton traded back and forth on Layla, switching parts at times, with Bramhall playing slide. Everyone in the crowd was up on their feet at the first notes of Cocaine, and they stayed up for the encore: pedal-steel guitarist Robert Randolph sitting in for a version of Got My Mojo Working.

The band was never introduced. (Doyle Bramhall II, guitar, vocals; Chris Stainton, keyboards; Pino Palladino, bass; Ian Thomas, drums; Sharon White, backing vocals; Michelle John, backing vocals). They were tight for the most part and, like Stainton, drummer Thomas was doing his part to raise the energy level. Clapton looked tired, though, and with a two- or three-day beard he looked older than I expected.

But I enjoyed the concert. Even when not hitting on all gears, Clapton still sounds great. The production was classy and not overdone; simple lighting and backdrops were pretty much it. I am glad I got to see him one more time before he possibly retires.

Review posted here. Also, note the remarks about poor sound in the comments section. These follow scathing criticism of the mix when Van Halen played the same building in February. But then, sound was an issue at several stops on the Van Halen tour, whereas I can't remember ever hearing a complaint before now about audio at a Springsteen show.

BankAtlantic Center, like all its arena brethren (Staples Center, AmericanAirlines Arena, etc.), poses a challenge to any visiting sound crew. It's difficult at best to wire up a large, mix-used facility whose primary tenant is a sports team. But I've generally found the acoustics there to be acceptable. Maybe there were bad pockets in last night's mix? For what it's worth, I was sitting in section 120, a few rows off the floor, closest to Clarence Clemons and Nils Lofgren, and from there the sound was pretty true.

Blood Brothers
The Promised Land
I Wanna Be With You
Radio Nowhere
Out in the Street
This Hard Land
Gypsy Biker
Growing Up
Candy's Room
Prove It All Night
She's the One
Livin' in the Future
Mary's Place
Girls in Their Summer Clothes
Devils Arcade
The Rising
Last to Die
Long Walk Home
Badlands

encores

Thunder Road
Born to Run
Rosalita
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
American Land

Update II 5/5: And here's the handwritten original, which barely survived all the in-show revisions:

The Associated Press notes the massive, inflatable oinker had spent part of Sunday floating above a gig. Ex-Pink Floyd musician Roger Waters was playing closing night at Coachella, a rock festival in Indio, California, when the pig that's been part of the P-Floyd stable since the 1970s broke free of its moorings and sailed off.

Its minders posted a $10,000 reward, which will go to two couples living a few miles from the concert site. Each found separate pieces of the downed, deflated swine on their property.

As Reuters pointed out, this wasn't the pig's first escape attempt:

"Back in 1977, it floated away on the second day of a photo shoot at the Battersea Power Station in London and was later recovered and used for an album cover."

South Floridians might recall the pig's 2007 cameo at Cruzan (formerly Sound Advice) Amphitheatre in western Palm.

Finally, for a recap of Coachella, flying pigs and all, pay a visit here.

There was an acute formalism to the songs Spoon played at Revolution (packed to the ductwork that Wednesday night with an undetermined ratio of paid to comped), and you could call that musical tailoring a fashion sense. One element of style is reference — letting the tune tell the listener who the songwriters admire and whose labels they would gladly wear. Spoon did its referencing in careful, calibrated doses — enough to own up to certain influences without being accused of excess tribute or outright theft.

Don’t You Evah presented — you could say faked — a more laid-back and dusty feel, as frontman Britt Daniel twanged out single guitar notes. But his grainy-sounding voice communicated a watchful disdain: “Betcha got it all planned right/Betcha never worry, never even feel a fright."

It’s easy to think that Spoon is pure attitude — all Dylanesque indictment cloaked in melodic skill. But Spoon’s attention to detail is nothing if not loving. On song after song, the band demonstrated great, earnest affection for the work of making and playing music.

That reverence for form and function and process did not strip the material of flesh and blood. The Delicate Place sounded like a wish, emitting a Strawberry Fields-like strain of longing. On Finer Feelings, Daniel had fun cranking up the reverb on his rig to create a deep, dubby sound — Lee “Scratch” Perry may now be available as an amp setting — and afterward spoke warmly about the late reggae producer and DJ Mikey Dread, who at one time had a Miami radio program.

Daniel also led his mates through a brisk version of Hateful by The Clash, a band that Mikey Dread produced for and wrote with. Playing Hateful, an addict’s wail, in a place as nose-deep in narco-traffic as South Florida, Spoon could have sounded like rebuking judges or party boys in on the joke. Or both. They didn’t come off as either. Sometimes a song is just a song.

One of two opening acts, The Walkmen had some in the audience swearing this was the band to come see, not Spoon. One wonders what these people were thinking. This was arena rock for Pitchfork readers, a unit-moving assemblage of Interpol and Coldplay song parts, and a singer who sounded like Billy Squier.

White Rabbits offered a more interesting proposition: Afro-poppin’ college rock. Vampire Weekend, it turns out, isn’t the only literate band channeling the late Nigerian funk god Fela Kuti. White Rabbits pumped up their indie-spindly song structures and handsome vocal harmonies with a tribal, two-drummer attack. It was the kind of shapely, thoughtful racket that David Byrne — with or without the Talking Heads — could love.

Springsteen did it again last week in Orlando: He called Roger McGuinn of the Byrds on to the stage, as reported by Orlando Sentinel music critic Jim Abbott, who later interviewed McGuinn.

Again, I don't know that Springsteen will spring anybody on Friday night at BankAtlantic Center. Of the four times I've seen him in South Florida, he's done it twice, so that's a 50/50 chance at best. But I'm just sayin' ...

Here's an AP story about Florida's conflicted relationship with the official state song: Stephen Foster's slave-era pastoral, Swanee River (1851), which Gov. Charlie Crist declined to have played at his inauguration.

After spending more than a year trying to come up with a new song to replace the Stephen Foster classic Swanee River — with lyrics some found racist — Florida politicians are expected to keep the song but update its lyrics. That is, if they do anything at all.

The song, also known as Old Folks at Home, would remain the state's official song. As a compromise, a song chosen in a statewide contest, Florida — Where the Sawgrass Meets the Sky, would be added as the state's anthem.

"I'd be thrilled and honored," said Jan Hinton, the Pompano Beach music teacher who wrote the winning song.

The interesting thing is, Swanee River gradually shed its caricatured vocal style, if not its dated, inappropriate sentiments. It's actually evolved some with public mores, and you can hear those changes in versions recorded by black and white performers alike. On Rhapsody, I found dozens of interpretations, vocal and instrumental - by Django Reinhardt, Louis Armstrong, Big Bill Broonzy and many many others. A version by the Ink Spots that I listened to today (from a Voice Masters reissue series put out in 2005) is so beautiful I want to put it on a mix tape.

The lyric, as sung nowadays, is in straightforward, un-idiomatic English, and yes, it's still capable of inducing cringes insofar as it speaks of "longing for the old plantation" - remember, as first written, this was a white guy, Foster, imagining a black person pining for the place of his servitude.

Rewriting the lyric altogether is supposed to wipe away any last echo of nostalgia for the old peculiar institution. A Floridian quoted in the AP story said that to drop Swanee River altogether would be "excessive."

It would be OK by me to keep Swanee in its present, 21st Century form, with no further alteration, as a kind of state song emeritus, not to be played - or at least not sung - at swearings-in and the like. Let Hinton's winning entry inherit the public role. Have Swanee remain available in Florida as a period piece - a reflection of another time - and a teaching tool. Don't disown it because of its unfortunate past, any more than you'd drop Huckleberry Finn from school cirricula because of Mark Twain's use of black dialect. Just give it another, more discreet job.

If someone has a different idea on what to do with Swanee River, I'd like to hear it.

Radio-Active has "only grown," said Ramirez, in its six years at the Gateway Plaza on East Sunrise Blvd., where it used to go by the name of CD Collector. The place has expanded on all fronts -- floor space, inventory and general offerings. And that progress makes Radio-Active something of an anomaly in the difficult world of brick-and-mortar record retailing.

The places that have gone under, said Ramirez, did so by losing sight of what they are. When an indie record store is suddenly stocking, say, fake leather pants and "other things I can find at a shopping mall," said Ramirez, the spirit threatens to go out of the place, and customers notice.

“Word travels fast,” he said.

The New York Times published a story today about Record Store Day, and even that music-savviest of cities is seeing record stores close at a disheartening clip.

The hole-in-the-wall specialty shops that have long made Lower Manhattan a destination for a particular kind of shopper have never made a great deal of money. But in recent years they have been hit hard by the usual music-industry woes — piracy, downloading — as well as rising real estate prices, leading to the sad but familiar scene of the emptied store with a note taped to the door.

Some 3,100 record stores around the country have closed since 2003, according to the Almighty Institute of Music Retail, a market research firm. And that’s not just the big boxes like the 89 Tower Records outlets that closed at the end of 2006; nearly half were independent shops. In Manhattan and Brooklyn at least 80 stores have shut down in the last five years.

But the survivors aren’t giving up just yet. Saturday is Record Store Day, presented by a consortium of independent stores and trade groups, with hundreds of retailers in the United States and some overseas cranking up the volume a bit to draw back customers and to celebrate the culture of buying, selling and debating CDs and vinyl.

Among the highlights: Metallica will be greeting fans at Rasputin Music in Mountain View, Calif., and Regina Spektor is to perform at Sound Fix, a four-year-old shop in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, that like many has learned to get creative, regularly offering free performances. At Other Music, a capital of underground music on East Fourth Street in Manhattan that faces a shuttered Tower Records, a roster of indie-rock stars will be playing D.J. all afternoon, including members of Tapes ’n Tapes, Grizzly Bear and Deerhunter.

One-day-only record releases will also be part of the event. Vinyl singles by R.E.M., Death Cab for Cutie, Vampire Weekend, Stephen Malkmus and others are being sold on Saturday, and labels big and small are contributing sampler discs and other goodies.

Radio-Active is participating by offering all-day discounts inside the store and at retail displays that will be set up on the curb outside. There'll also be giveaways as part of a day in which everyone will be encouraged to, in Ramirez's words, "just hang out" - which I've found is almost always the best way to approach quality time at a well-stocked record store.

Radio-Active isn't the only store of its kind in our area. Uncle Sam's is a local mainstay, with locations including Lauderhill, and there's Blue Note in Dania Beach, which moved from North Miami Beach last year as part of its strategy for surviving in the 21st Century.

Like any of us confronted with such a contextual oddity - aging rock god in housewares superstore - he couldn't process the vision right away. But then it fell together: "He wore a loose-fitting shirt that covered up all of his tats, but the smirk was unmistakable."

Lee will be back around for the July 1 kickoff at West Palm's Cruzan Amphitheatre of the inaugural Crue Fest, a hard rock tourney to be headlined by Lee's band, Motley Crue. In announcing the Fest this week, Lee struck a philosophical, plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose sort of note, as quoted by the AP:

The second we hit the stage, everything is exactly the same. But when the house lights go up these days, everybody leaves and goes back to their hotel room or bus or airplane or whatever. It's different now. People have families and kids.

And shopping.

Bruce Springsteen's Friday night concert at BankAtlantic Center in Sunrise has been postponed because of the death of a longtime Springsteen bandmate, a spokesman for concert promoter LiveNation said on Thursday.

Keyboard player Danny Federici, 58, died on Thursday in New York after a three-year battle with melanoma, a form of cancer, Springsteen's official Web site announced.

Federici was not touring but had made a surprise appearance at a March 20 Springsteen concert in Indianapolis.

LiveNation spokesman Woody Graber said a Springsteen show this weekend in Orlando would also be rescheduled, but a Monday concert in Tampa would go forward as planned. Graber said no makeup dates for the Sunrise or Orlando shows have been announced, and he had no information on refunds for ticketholders.

I'd stick with The Rising if I were advising her. It's still better than You and I, the soaring-insipidly Air Canada jingle sung by Celine Dion that camp Clinton actually chose as a theme. If she keeps airing Springsteen at her rallies, she's basically saying his music matters more than his politics. Plus, nobody tells Hillary "No Surrender" Clinton when to quit doing anything, as we know from weeks of delegate-counting.

Springsteen's open letter is here and his song database is here should you want to pick the mighty mighty Boss tunes that you think best fit Clinton, Obama and John McCain.

Nevertheless, indie stores of the type celebrated in High Fidelity persist, and many thrive in the vaccuum opened up by Internet traffic and the closure of major record chains. Browsing the racks and hanging around, with or without money and a plan, is still one of life's great pleasures.

Hundreds of indie outlets in this country and abroad will be observing Record Store Day in various ways. Among the participants is Fort Lauderdale's Radio-Active Records, formerly CD Collector, still located in the Gateway Plaza on E. Sunrise Blvd., near Kim's Alley Bar and Suko Thai restaurant. Radio-Active's recent progress is cause for celebration any day of the year. As their MySpace page notes, "We have expanded the store to include space for art shows, live bands ... and a seating area with couches and magazines!"

That's news worth an exclamation point, I assure you. I was so excited on a recent visit I nearly bought the store's entire collection of Julian Cope vinyl LPs before restraining myself. (In the "alternative section," under C, in the new room near the new stage. Get them before I do ... )

To prepare for Saturday and beyond, here's an excellent tribute to record shops, and here's the official Record Store Day channel on YouTube.

And feel free to drop a line hailing your greatest record-store finds. I think mine was about 13 years ago, a near-pristine vinyl copy of the Beatles' Revolver in a used CD & book store in Washington D.C., for four bucks. The sleeve touted other 1960s Capitol Records releases, notably music by the super-groovy actor David "Man from U.N.C.L.E." McCallum.