Because Tim Jebb has actually resorted to E-mailing me about writing a U2 review...here it is. And because today officially marks Day #3 of my post-school life (if only for the time being), I figured I'd give a nod to the previous twenty-one years of my life and write the review in the form of an exam question...because really, I
am that cool.
Question: "U2 is the most perplexing live act you've ever seen." Discuss this statement using specific evidence from the band's Saturday, September 17, 2005 concert in Toronto to support your case. Feel free to rant.U2 is officially bigger than music--which makes writing about them virtually impossible. How to write about a band for which everybody has an opinion? How to critique music which, for the most part, is almost totally new to me? How to evaluate a performance which fluctuates between a club show, a Big Tent Revival and a political rally with stunning ease? The answer: I don't know. The best I can do for you is try, and then wait nervously for Tim to unload a vicious anti-world assault in the comments section.
It took the intervention of one Bri Johnson to turn me onto U2. Before that, I'd written off virtually everything I'd ever heard from U2 as either boring, pretentious or both; I felt comfortable with my disdain for the world's so-called "biggest band" and was reasonably confident that nobody could ever get me to listen to them with an open ear. Bri changed all of that: before long, I owned my very own copy of Achtung Baby and a pair of tickets to see U2 at the Air Canada Centre. When Pearl Jam announced their Canadian tour, I was slightly nervous that the cumulative effect of seven Pearl Jam shows in eleven days would lessen the U2 experience. The result: it did. But not for the reasons I suspected.
Going in, my biggest concern was that Bono's ego would overshadow the entire performance. So when Bono made his grand entrance--atop the oval, bathed in an orange spotlight, arms raised a la Rocky Balboa--my first thoughts were, "You fucking asshole." It was frankly so off-putting that the first three songs ("City of Blinding Light", "Vertigo" and "Elevation") were spent recovering...honestly, I was convinced that all of my worst fears were about to be fulfilled. It took a blood-pumping version of "The Electric Co." to right the ship, then an anthemic "Beautiful Day" to set it back on course. Then, and only then, was I able to feel good about being there. After "Beautiful Day" Bono made a weird, rambling speech about the Edge having been sent from "the Future" and how, when asked how the Future was, replied: "It's better." (Honestly, it was better than any Gord Downie rant I've ever heard--until my BHBHGGFBJ explained to me that the Edge's daughter had leukemia. Then it suddenly made sense.) This led to "Miracle Drug", which Bono dedicated to the Hospital for Sick Children (a manoever which, needless to say, won me right over). Next up: "Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own", during which the band dropped its histrionics and concentrated on simply performing the song. The result was the emotional and musical high point of the entire show; when Bono hit "that note" it was a stirring affirmation of what U2 is capable of achieving in a live venue.
"Love and Peace or Else" sounds plodding on How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb; here, it was a highlight, with the stage bathed in red light and Adam Clayton laying down the phatest bass line since the White Stripes had their hardest little button to button. But then, during the outro, Bono strapped on a while headband inscribed with a cross, a Star of David and another symbol I couldn't make out, then proceeded to drone to the audience: "Jesus is a Jew for Sure" (or something to that effect). Once again, the show came to a thudding halt, its momentum derailed by yet more pointless Bono-isms. "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and "Bullet the Blue Sky" sounded perfunctory, but "Miss Sarajevo"--gorgeous, ethereal, with the Edge providing chilling piano accompaniment--redeemed them both instantly...can you see how this is going? Seldom was the momentum sustained for more than a couple of songs; seldom, however, could the band's tangents derail what the music was trying to say.
Following "Pride" (unfortunately transposed into a lower key), the Universal Declaration of Human Rights scrolled across the screens. It was at this exact moment that U2 alienated me...and I can't pretend to understand why. I mean, on one hand there is absolutely nothing wrong with a band getting all political-like; as a Pearl Jam fan, I'd be lying if I said I didn't applaud musicians who use their fame to promote positive political measures. That said, being political doesn't mean being heavy-handed--and that, sadly, is what U2 is. (If this sounds like a discursive against the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, well...it's not. Bear with me.) While I'm now thoroughly convinced that Bono's well-documented humanitarian efforts are nothing if not completely genuine, I don't necessarily appreciate going to a rock concert and being preached to. Some people don't have a problem with it--I mean, there are reasons that U2 sold out four straight shows in under an hour. This does not mean, however, that I have to dig it as well.
Anyway. So when the flags of the various African nations began cascading down during the intro to "Where the Streets Have No Name", I was already numb to U2's pontificating. Instead, I figured, why not enjoy the music? Y'know, which is what I came to hear in the first place. "Where the Streets Have No Name" seemed like a good place to start: if there is a single better introduction in rock n' roll history, I'm definitely not aware of it. Afterwards, Bono went off on yet another long-winded rant--this one about the Make Poverty History campaign (which, again, is a worthy cause, and again, I'm not necessarily down with him beating me over the head with it). At one point he mentioned Eddie Vedder, and the audience roared. U2 then played "One", and once again I was suitably moved. The song is absolutely majestic, and with a 20,000 person-strong sing-a-long is nothing if not epic. Afterwards, during the outro, Bono started singing--of all things--"Ol' Man River" from the musical Show Boat, an obvious nod to the victims of Hurricane Katrina. And see, this is the kind of politicizing I can handle: the kind where the music, not the singer, does the talking ("Play C3, let the song protest," as Ed once sang.) The effect, I felt, was far more profound than any of Bono's earnest speechifying. And then all of a sudden Eddie Vedder himself wandered out on stage, and the Air Canada Centre erupted. Eddie strolled over to the mic', and as Bri and I stood with mouths agape he started singing along with Bono. Eddie Vedder and Bono were singing a duet in front of us! Honestly, nothing could have prepared me for this moment; when Bono mentioned that Vedder was in the house, I had no inkling whatsoever that this might translate into a live appearance. But there he was, and there they were: two rock n' roll legends singing one of musical theatre's all-time classics together. Eventually, Ed quit the stage (to more rapturous applause), the song ended and U2 walked off. Just an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime moment.
(For the record, yes, I've read the Toronto Sun's ridiculous review of Pearl Jam's September 19 show at the Air Canada Centre, in which Bono returned the favour by lending a hand during "Rockin' in the Free World". This led the Sun's music critic Lisa Ladoceur--in a gesture which betrayed incredible stupidity--to pronounce that Bono's briefest of cameos upstaged Pearl Jam's entire two-and-a-hour hour show. Two points. Firstly, Ms. Ladoceur is the only person who left the Air Canada Centre thinking that. Secondly, if that was in fact the case, then Eddie Vedder did the exact same thing with U2's concert. Did a two-minute guest appearance upstage an entire two-hour show? Of course it didn't. Nobody would be stupid enough to make that suggestion...well, unless they work for a major Toronto newspaper. And yet I digress.)
At this point, U2 had me (and yes, it took some help from Eddie Vedder...but really, in this case the ends should be more important than the means.) Returning for the first encore, they went straight into..."Discoteque"?! Bri was flipping out; I was certainly surprised, since I was pretty sure it was the first time it had come out on the Vertigo tour (it was). Bono was decked out in what looked like jackboots and a leather cap, but we were too far away to tell for sure. At one point, he hilariously broke into a bit of "Relax" with the stage lights going crazy. Classic stuff. Then "The Fly" (replete with Pop-era letters with missing words...like, deep, man) led straight into "With or Without You", the first U2 song I ever pronounced as being "good" (although I've changed my mind since then). The second encore, meanwhile, began with "All Because of You" (a truly atrocious song), the ultra-rare "Fast Cars", a gorgeous acoustic "Yawheh" (with Bono and the Edge walking to the top of the arc and joining together in a total Mick-and-Keef moment)...and then the moment that I was waiting for: where we'd find out if they were going to play "Vertigo" a second time.
We knew it was possible: every single gig on the European tour featured a second playing of the Official iPod Anthem. Would I have walked out? I think so, yes--honestly, no matter what people say about how effective it is, hearing the same song twice in the same show would probably cause me to blow a blood vessel, especially knowing that some people had dropped $180 per ticket for the experience. But then Larry Mullen Jr. began playing that ubiquitous drum beat, Bono and Adam switched instruments and--yes!--"40". I'd recited the chorus at my grandfather's funeral back in July; that, coupled with me and Cam hearing "Man of the Hour" together in Montreal on Thursday, made it the most fitting conclusion possible. And yes, it was absolutely awesome hearing it live--the audience carried the "how long to sing this song?" part until everybody had quit the stage and the lights had been turned back on. It was a truly majestic ending.
And that, I think, is what made me finally appreciate U2. If you've read either of my two blogs, you'll know I have a lot of conflicting thoughts about this band--and honestly, anybody who's as big as U2 is bound to inspire conflicting opinion, especially in someone who thinks way too much (guilty as charged). In the end, I didn't like their show as much as I liked any of the seven Pearl Jam concerts I attended this month--although that said, I won't fall victim to a stupid, pointless comparison between the two bands. When I see a concert, I want to see a concert: a band on a naked stage with minimal lighting blowing through its catalogue. What U2 offers is a show: a standard setlist, a few of the requisite hits, a lot of bells and whistles, a bunch of video screens...I mean, apart from a giant inflatable woman they touched upon virtually every significant stadium rock cliche there is. Clearly, this works for a lot of people: there is a reason that U2 has sold out nine (or is it eleven?) shows at New York's Madison Square Garden. For me, it took some getting used to. Once I got used to it (and was able to overlook Bono's occasional egotistical flourish) I was able to enjoy U2 for what they were: a great band with great songs. At some point, I would love to see them drop the theatrics and just play a concert--because that, I could guarantee, is something I'd pay good money to see. (I'm not holding my breath, mind.)
As for Bono, I applaud him for taking a stand where so many others will not. I still don't think his politicking has a place in an arena rock show--but since you can't separate it from the rest of the U2 experience, I guess I'll sigh and grudgingly accept it. I think what I'm trying to say is this: I liked U2 a lot. I also left with a lot of concerns, not just about the band but about the audience, the world, the state of rock n' roll...honestly, this concert got me thinking on any number of fronts. And that, I would argue, is just about the biggest compliment I could pay.
