By James Sims, reposted from www.huffingtonpost.com

U2 has never been a band to shy away from spectacle, from the blitzkrieg-like barrage of TV screens during the band’s Zoo TV tour in the early 1990s to the megalomania of the PopMart Tour, complete with a 100-foot-high golden McDonald’s-like arch, in 1997. Since kicking off a now 34-year career as one of the most successful rock bands in the world, U2 has continued to push the boundaries of conventional rock wisdom. In fact, since Bono, the Edge, Larry Mullen, Jr. and Adam Clayton first came together — just four young lads from Ireland, joined by a dream to create beautiful rock music — there has rarely been an instance when they settled for the status quo.

Still riding high on the success of their latest album, No Line on the Horizon, U2 has delivered a special treat to its loyal fans with the limited edition remix-CD, Artificial Horizon, available only to U2.com subscribers. Those not willing to sign up for the band’s official website are certain to find it on various online auction sites. This album is filled with remixes of U2’s songs, from “Elevation” and “Vertigo” to the current hit “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” and earlier numbers including “If God Will Send His Angles” and “Staring at the Sun.” Ultimately, the album is for the fans, as these remixes are made to enhance the already polished work of the studio versions.

Remixes, however, are nothing new to U2. As Ralph Moore, an editor at Mixmag, writes, “U2 were one of the first bands to fully explore the idea that a remix could actually improve on a song’s original grooves.” In 1992, a Paul Oakenfold and Steve Osborne remix of U2’s “Even Better Than The Real Thing” made it to number 8 on the music charts shortly after the original was released. While Artificial Horizon isn’t a commercial release, there are plenty of gems to be found, like the almost transcendental sound of the “Staring at the Sun” ambient mix. This latest fan-only album, a follow-up to the Melon remix album released in 1995, proves U2 is unafraid to embrace experimentation, a facet of the band’s personality that continues to be successful.

When U2 became “Rock’s Hottest Ticket” in 1987, as billed on the cover of Time Magazine following the release of the Joshua Tree album, they were riding high on the success of a sound nurtured by producers Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois, a duo that had helped the band craft their previous album, The Unforgettable Fire. It was a sound that solidified U2’s standing as rock superstar, but it also marked the end of traditional rock tunes for the Irish band.

As the 80’s drew to a close, U2 was growing weary of its “traditional” sound, having become a band that couldn’t escape playing its own greatest hits on the road. On December 30, 1989, Bono told fans attending a concert in Dublin, Ireland, “This is just the end of something for U2… we have to go away and dream it all up again.” By this, Bono meant that U2, for its own creative sanity, had to re-think the style of music they were churning out, and hopefully, dream up something new.

And new was exactly what U2 produced, along with the help of Lanois and Eno. After spending a tumultuous time in the recording studio, U2 re-emerged onto the music scene with a game-changing album. Achtung Babywas “raw”, “rough” and “straightforward,” as the Edge would tell U2’s fan-magazine Propaganda around the time of the album’s release. Nabbing the band another Grammy for Best Rock Album, Achtung Baby told the world U2 was unafraid to change. The album was full of industrial rock sounds and electronic tricks. This wasn’t the U2 of the 80’s, but a U2 ready to embrace, and often set the course for the future of rock music.

Since 1991’s Achtung Baby, U2 has continued to reinvent itself. 1997’s Pop delivered a full-blown electronic and techno sound, followed up three years later by a slightly conservative and familiar sound with 2000’s All That You Can’t Leave Behind. But, familiar doesn’t mean old when it comes to U2, as 2004’s How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb proved, delivering “grandiose music from grandiose men,” as Rolling Stone wrote in its album review.

Experimentation has paid off for U2, with their latest tour topping the charts last year, grossing more than $311 million, according to Billboard.com. All 44 concert dates completely sold out in 2009, often within minutes of going on sale to the public. While there is no word as to when U2 might have a new album ready for release, all of the young whippersnappers currently clogging the music charts should be on guard, because when U2 has something to sing about, everybody tends to listen.

Many rock pundits are more than happy to write about their successes in life, but few would be prepared to espouse their failures so enthusiastically.

And even fewer would be lucky enough to find their efforts the subject of a best-selling book and the basis for a major new feature film.

When self-confessed rock star failure Neil McCormick put pen to paper for his 2003 memoir Killing Bono, little did he realise how his tales of living in the U2 frontman’s shadow would click with fans of the Irish supergroup.

As a former schoolmate of Bono — real name Paul Hewson — McCormick was perhaps better poised to recount the trials and tribulations of the singer than many rock writers.

The pair grew up in a Dublin with a burgeoning late-70s punk scene, but while Bono went on to attain rock god status, McCormick found his efforts in bands such as Frankie Corpse and the Undertakers, and Yeah! Yeah! were to come to naught.

“One reason that Bono made it is he was lucky,” says the chirpy and not-at-all-embittered-sounding Neil.

“There are three things you need to have a good chance of making it. One is an abundance of talent, and Bono certainly has that. He was a charismatic character in school and he’s always been a hero to me.

“The next is luck, in meeting the right people, in being in the right band. The public chooses who it wants, you don’t impose yourself on them, so you’ve got to be in the right place at the right time.

“And there’s persistence — you stick with it until that combination of talent and luck pays off. I don’t know where I went wrong; maybe it was the talent, certainly I didn’t have the luck and 13 years demonstrates I had some persistence, so maybe if I had stuck it out for 14 years the world would finally have recognised my genius!”

Bono’s legendary sense of drive and purpose — so evident in his campaigning work and his musical performances — was also a crucial factor, Neil says.

“It comes from not a very good place,” he adds.

“His mother died when he was 13 and it’s amazing how many of our greatest stars have that kind of maternal or paternal loss in their background; it’s quite shocking. For him, music was a way of filling himself up, and for me maybe it was just something I was doing.”

The title of the book itself may be stark in its message (and one might think the subject of a restraining order) but for Neil it was more about laying old ghosts to rest than hitting out at his more successful childhood friend.

“Bono came up with that title!” he laughs.

“It was called I Was Bono’s Doppelganger, but when the book came out in the US they were perplexed by the word ‘doppelganger’. I had to come up with a new title. That was something Bono had suggested to me quite early on. I called him when I was writing the book. He read it and said “You should call it Killing Bono, like slaying your dragons”. He used to ring me up and leave messages on my phone saying “Neil, it’s Bono, you have to kill me”.

“I was worried that someone might take me seriously, though!”

The singer’s well-intentioned campaigns to save the world, including his very visible appearances in Northern Ireland in support of the peace process, have often made him an easy target for the sneering of others.

Yet Neil contends that the motivation of the man who wrote I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For is absolutely genuine and only exacerbated by his big personality.

“He’s not down-to-earth, he’s got a big head, and he’s got a big heart and he’s a big guy who is doing an amazing thing out there,” he says. “I find it quite sickening that people give him stick.

There’s no rock star or celebrity in the world who gives more of himself to help other people, and he has made a profound difference.

“Millions of people are alive in the Third World because of the intervention of him and others who give a hell of a lot of time. We can argue about whether that’s irritating or not, but nobody cares about ‘irritating’ when they’re dying of hunger.”

Neil will be visiting Belfast this week for the first of the annual Northern Bank/Ulster Museum Lectures. Having seen the music industry both from within and without as a rock journalist, Neil’s subject matter for his forthcoming lecture — Is There Too Much Music? — also promises plenty of insight into the industry.

“It’s something I think about a lot,” he says. “Because from being a musician in a series of obscure and failed bands to somehow ending up in that musician’s curse of becoming a rock critic instead, I have basically spent my entire life immersed in the world of music and have seen many changes over the decades.

“I was standing in Austin, Texas at a street intersection during the South By Southwest Festival, and there were gigs going on everywhere — in barber shops and on rooftops, thousands of bands playing in this city. I could hear the rumble of heavy metal from one side and country and western from another and hip-hop from another, all merging into this big mush.

“I thought that is a metaphor for the world we live in now, where there has never been more music available to hear.

“It made me wonder if there is in fact too much music. Humans evolved in a time of musical scarcity. If you wanted to hear music you had to make it yourself. Now you can’t escape music and every 14-year-old will have heard more different types of music than his grandfather will ever have in his entire life.”

The increasing prevalence of manufactured pop shows like the X Factor is also detrimental to appreciation of quality music, Neil says. “I do believe that everybody has music in them, but that doesn’t mean that everybody has a right to be famous,” he says.

“That is what the karaoke culture of Simon Cowell and co have exploited, that idea not that we’re all musical, that we’re all super-talented when we’re not.

“So I don’t really like the X Factor, because I find it exploitative. It feeds into the worst of human obsessions with music and not the best.

“It’s all ego really. The best part of music is when the ego gets put away and releases the music.”

With music such a big part of his life, he wonders now if he has become trapped in what he calls “the obsession of my adolescence”, something which was no doubt given a surreal edge by meeting his ‘younger self’ during the filming of Killing Bono in Belfast just last month.

“I had to shoot a scene where I got a cameo as a rather sad old Irishman in an illegal strip club watching my younger self play on stage,” he recalls.

“The director had stationed a stripper right in front of me, so my screen moments will be me looking at some young girl’s ass while my younger self plays in the background.

“I had a Spock-meets-Spock moment, a Star Trek paradox where I thought, ‘could I go up to my younger self, take him in hand and give him some advice and spare him the pain’?

“It’s complicated because this isn’t a novel, it’s my life.

“When they make a biopic it’s because the subject has done something great, like Gandhi or Nelson Mandela. But nobody knows who I am, or cares, so this is a story about a loser in rock ’n’ roll.

“On one hand I have the great victory of achieving the kind of fame I wanted when I was a kid, but on the other I am achieving it in the guise of a comedy loser played by an actor, so I’m not even going to be myself any more.

“Now I’m about to be subsumed in the shadow of a more handsome actor!”

Said actor is English pin-up Ben Barnes, star of Prince Caspian and Dorian Gray, and for whom Neil is fulsome in his praise.

“However, Neil found himself particularly moved by the portrayal of Bono by rising young west Belfast actor Martin McCann.

“He was amazing, he’s going to be a revelation to people,” says Neil. “I was never as good looking as Ben Barnes, but I would see Martin out of the corner of my eye and think “There’s Bono!”

“He’ll be walking towards you and he does something, a little jut of the chin and a movement of the shoulder and he just turns into Bono.

“It was very strange to see, and I had to stop myself from talking to him as if he was Bono. But he didn’t stay in character.

“When the cameras weren’t rolling he’d approach you like a good Northern Irishman.

“I said to Bono that the actor was doing a spookily good job and he said to me — “Just as long as he’s tall!’.”

What do you need to do? Just answer a simple question.

It’s well-known that lead singer Jonathan Meiburg is an ornithologist (he studies birds and in order to do so has traveled around the world, visiting the Galapagos Islands, the Chatham Islands, among other places). What species of bird did he write his master’s thesis on?

Send your answer to cassie@interference.com by Sunday, March 14th at 11:59 am. The winner will be chosen at random from the correct answers received. To win, you must be a registered member of Interference.com (registration is free!).

Do you remember when bad was good? For children of the 1980s, this has many implications. For U2 fans, the song “Bad” evokes the good in the human spirit responding to death’s devastation. Who among us first generation of U2 fans can forget the legendary Live Aid performance with Bono’s mullet, white shirt with bolo tie, long black jacket, black leather pants, tall black boots, and the frontman following his muse into the audience to embrace a stranger, to embrace us.

For the young, thirsty, and invincible of every generation, bad will forever seem good. But then the bad that seemed good can turn really, really bad. In 1985, I watched the bad that seemed good turn terrifying, and I remember listening to the lyrics of desperation, dislocation, and letting go in U2’s “Bad” to help me understand. Twenty-five years later, I still cannot shake the memories. Twenty-five years later, I hope I’m finally letting the lessons of that cold, February morning sink in.

In late January 1985, the coldest night of that winter, I spent the night in my car, wrapped in blankets, outside the local Ticketmaster on 9 Mile Road, awaiting seats to U2’s first arena show in Detroit at Joe Louis (then and today the home of the world renowned Red Wings hockey team). The Thursday night was cold, and I only had periodic company from my partner in rock and roll obsession, fellow high-school DJ Joe Ginis.

It was not the epic overnight narrative and sense of community I’d had a few months earlier in Royal Oak to score tickets to U2’s Fox Theatre show. This night was too cold, too lonely. Being the first and only person to wait all night at this location, I was confident I’d score great seats.

When the onsale finally arrived, I could not predict that the man working the computer that morning would skim at least a dozen tickets for his friends before selling me a single one. No one had taught me the serenity prayer at that point, but I was an earnest and faithful boy, grateful to have tickets for the concert that would be an official field trip of my high school youth group from a nearby Presbyterian church.

Upon arriving at Southfield High School on Lahser Road later that Friday morning, I immediately realized something was terribly wrong. All classes had been dismissed, and students walked the halls in a bleary and teary-eyed fog. That morning, we learned that we had lost John Salo. My handsome and talented high school mate and former comrade on the Southfield Jay swim team from sophomore year had died.

It’s hard to forget John Salo’s charm, humor, and goofy charisma. For the entire ninth grade year, he saved his lunch money, mooching food from cute girls who never finished a meal, and stashed his cash to save for an elaborate Vietnam-era array of military fashion and gear. He would wear the getup to school on Halloween 1983.

We often ate lunch together, and our crew spoke of topics sacred to young men, such as euphemisms for masturbation and rock and roll. I remember that John listened to The Clash and Peter Gabriel and was particular fond of “Biko,” a song that had special significance to a bunch of guys on the swim team. For the league swim meat in 1984, John and our mutual friend Erik Enyedy wowed the school when they got mohawks for the occasion.

While I waited for tickets early that February Friday, John had been drunk with friends. He decided to walk home, passed out in a ravine, and froze to death. Not unlike Bono’s friend with heroin, my friend lost his life to the tragic nature of drug abuse. Even at 17, 24 years before I would face my own addictions and finally find my way into the rooms of recovery, I saw that the fatal nature of the disease called alcoholism was not an abstraction. The bitter bite of booze claimed John far too soon.

That morning, U2 tickets in hand, “Bad” became much more the soundtrack of my life than I wanted it to be, but I cannot imagine coping with losing John without it. “Bad” was good to me as song for healing, but the bad behavior that seems like a good idea to the reckless rebel can inevitably catch up with you.

Sadly, adolescent wisdom and awareness about the devastating effects of addictions, particularly to the lethal but legal nicotine and alcohol, could not protect me as a middle-aged alcoholic. Throughout the 2000s, drinking caught up with me, until I finally decided one May morning in 2009 to give up the high cost of low living.

John’s bad decisions and accidental death deepened my relationship to Bono’s “Bad.” How could John’s bad be good? It’s not to his lost life or to his grieving family that can we say this bad is good. I’d like to say that John’s bad taught me to let it go, to surrender.

But in a sense, even the death of a dear soul like John Salo couldn’t teach me a lesson I had to learn for myself. First, I had to face my own death to break away into the light and into the day. Somehow, I didn’t fade away and am now wide awake to my own addictions and to the power of God’s grace in my life. I write this winter to remember John twenty five years later, to appreciate U2’s song twenty-five years later, and to pray that others might wake up from the isolation and desolation of addiction before it’s too late.

–Andrew William Smith, Editor

Well, here we are in February, and everyone is still worried about the economy. Even President Obama announced spending freezes last week as a way to stimulate the economy.  To be honest, I’m not quite sure how it’s going. I was feeling rather stimulated for a moment, but then I realized it was the Mojitos. I suppose I shouldn’t write articles right after breakfast.

Anyway, the economy remains—how can we put this delicately—in hell.  Everywhere you look, people are walking around depressed, angry and paranoid.  And those are the ones who still have their jobs.

Bono, on the other hand is probably not feeling the worst recession since the 1930´s.

The 360 Tour breaks attendance records everywhere it goes. While football stadiums are completely packed, U2 won virtually no music awards this year, so even less money has been spent on traveling to award shows—and perhaps even on fancy beanie hats for The Edge. Yet, Manager Paul McGuiness claims the tour is still losing money.

I don’t know who advised U2 that this was the right time to build a multi-million dollar stage that looks like my Grandfather’s toupee, but from the looks of it, someone needs to stop the band from filing their taxes using one a piece of software like ¨Turbo-Tax.¨ Bono and the boys need to go old-fashioned and use one of those Certified Public Accountants.  The kind of accountants who reminds you – in between smoke rings – that it was income tax evasion that ultimately brought down Al Capone—and Wesley Snipes

So with all this economic hardship, this begs another question. How are Bono´s extra-curricular businesses going? We are not talking about U2 Inc, but rather all those investments Mr. Hewson likes to do, more specifically with his investment group: Elevation Partners. Sure, Bono is a gifted songwriter and musician. Without him and his artistic talents we wouldn’t have “One,” “With or Without You,” or his unreleased duet with Sara Palin: “I Never Met a Moose I Didn’t Kill.”

So is Bono a good investor? Have his extracurricular financial dealings paid off? Let’s take a look at the investments Elevation Partners have done over the years and see what type of financial results they’ve returned.

First off, what is Elevation Partners? Well, according to its website, Elevation Partners is a: ¨private equity firm that makes large-scale investments in market-leading media, entertainment, and consumer-related businesses.¨ The founder of course is Mr. Hewson himself.

The portfolio of investments made by the firm include: Move, Forbes, and Palm among others. Keep in mind as you are reading this, some of these investments might have been done with a long term view of positive results, so don’t jump to conclusions too harshly. Also, the firm just bought Yelp.com, a website that connects people with local businesses. We still can’t obviously judge if this was a good investment for Elevation Partners, but what we do know is that Bono put up $25 million hoping that the review site grows into an Internet powerhouse.

Let’s take a closer look at the investments Elevation Partner have done.

Palm:

We know Palm as one the industry leaders in mobile devices that allow users to share information anywhere. It was one of the original Smartphones, way before Blackberry and iPhone they were the toys of working professionals everywhere.

In October 2007 Elevation Partners invested $460 Million in Palm to own a 30% stake in the company.  At the time, the price per stock was $15.57. In late 2008, the brand almost disappeared when its stock reached an all time low of $1.54! Fortunately, thanks to some savvy marketing and important merges, the stock recovered and today costs $11.29 per unit.

Verdict: LOSS. Stock has lost $4.28 value per unit since Elevation Acquired it.

Move:

Move (formerly known as Homestore, Inc) is a real estate website that gives consumers real estate content, tools, and support among others.

In November 2005, Elevation Partners poured $100 Million into the site with the hopes it would become the next big internet thing. At the time the price per stock of Move was $4.65. With a horrid real estate market and bubble that was the catalyst for this recession, the price per stock of Move today is $1.73.

Verdict: LOSS. Stock has lost $2.92 value per unit since Elevation acquired it.

Forbes:

Forbes is the publisher of Forbes magazine, Forbes.com, and other media properties.  In August of 2006, the company announced that Bono´s Elevation Partners would buy a minority stake in the company. The percentage known by Elevation Partners is unknown.

This is one big ¨Ouch¨ for Bono as an investor. It is no secret that with the free flow of news and information, media companies have been struggling mightily. Forbes has no dodged the bullet. When Bono became a minority owner, the price per stock was at $18.40. Today? A hollow $0.37 cents per share.

Verdict: LOSS. Stock is at a low-point and speculation in wall –street is that Elevation partners want to sell its share.

SDI MEDIA:

SDMI Media Group is the leading localization services provider for media and entertainment companies. SDI provides foreign language subtitling and dubbing services for theatrical, home entertainments, broadcast and new media content providers throughout the world.

In August 2007, Elevation Partners acquired full ownership of SDI Media Group.

Verdict: WIN. Stock was bought at $25 and now it trades slightly over $28.

So that is a cursory analysis of the business deals by Bono´s firm. Being such a wealthy investor probably contributes to the criticism Bono has received plenty of over the years. Those who don´t like the man will attack and dismiss for everything from being a hypocrite on Africa to dodging taxes in Ireland to being egocentric to even faking his humanitarian pose. The economic phenomenon that is Elevation Partners will only enhance their arguments.

But before we start saying Bono is a horrible businessman, let’s not forget that consumers made The Snuggie one of the hottest selling items of last year. And don’t even get me started on Crocs and America´s addiction to Fanny Packs. Also, the man is one of history´s best songwriters, and that is ultimately what we should care about.

At the end of the day, of course, we are only human.   And I myself am a little embarrassed that – even though it’s not arrived yet – I’ve already spent $150 on that Suzanne Summers Thighmaster  I saw on that Infomercials last night.  I know that’s unwise.  But the fact of the matter is that I was running low on basic household necessities.  I mean, cut me some slack, my panic room wasn’t going to fill itself up with cream cheese frosting and Kahlua, now was it?

–Jaime Rodriguez, Contributing Writer

Follow Jaime on Twitter.com/jaimearodriguez

The New Orleans Saints came to Miami tonight and will come home to a joyous New Orleans as Super Bowl champions. While the musical theme of this victory march is the hip-hop vibe of the “who dat” nation, it’s hard to forget U2’s connection to New Orleans, the Superdome, and the Super Bowl.

In 2002, U2 gave what many still remember as one of the best halftime performances in Super Bowl history. Today, as pop culture pundits across the blogosphere anticipated The Who’s halftime spectacle, they looked back at the best and the worst of recent midgame musical moments. Many seemed to agree that the post-9/11 meditations by Bono and company in down New Orleans still count as one of the Super Bowl’s best cultural moments.

Writing at the Huffington Post, Shawn Amos recalls, “Less than five months after 9/11, U2 turned the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans into a place of worship. As the Irish band played their final song, ‘Where the Streets Have No Name,’ a giant banner was raised behind them displaying the names of the 2973 people who died during the 9/11 attacks. U2 used the banner during that year’s Elevation Tour but this televised version had added resonance and turned a mere sports game into massive statement of unity and resilience – something New Orleans would need three years later when Katrina hit.”

Then, in 2006, for the first home Saints game at the Superdome since Hurricane Katrina devastated the city, U2 performed with Green Day the single “The Saints Are Coming,” a moving rock anthem to mark that occasion. Add to this Edge’s work with Music Rising to get instruments to New Orleans’ musicians during post-Katrina years, it’s easy to postulate that U2 were cheering for the Saints as they marched to their first Super Bowl appearance and subsequent victory.

U2 Super Bowl

Saints Are Coming

When I first got the invitation to share in this reflective project, my first impulse was to write about the appeal for the One campaign that Bono gave during the Vertigo Tour. That five minute rhetorical moment proved to be my personal epiphany as all the theories about literacy and discourse communities that I’d worked with as part of my graduate studies suddenly clicked into place. But, that’s ground I’ve covered again and again over the last few years, and as I thought about it one more time, I realized the power of the moment, the ethos of the moment, was grounded in a previous U2 encounter.

In October of 2001, my husband and I were fortunate to have tickets for the South Bend Elevation show. It was their first tour date after the traumatic horror of 9/11. My husband noted it being the first show and mentioned it would be streamed on the internet, but I wasn’t really thinking about it. I just wanted to escape from the rigors of being a student and mother to 2 year old triplets. Plus, the arena at Notre Dame is an intimate venue compared to the Palace of Auburn Hills and the Pontiac Silverdome, the only other places I’d seen the band.

We were up off the floor, perfectly centered over the end point of the heart, on bleachers. Great view, but I felt just a little too old for this, especially when some morons tried to squeeze in and spilled beer — which I’m pretty sure they weren’t technically supposed to have anyway — all over the floor. Plus, the energy in the arena was just strange, disjointed. People wanted to have a good time, but we were all still suffering and in shock. We wanted to dance and sing, but under it all was a current of pain that was all too fresh but was not to be named (or the terrorists win - remember?).

I remember the show started off great. The breaking of the fourth wall by running around the heart was a new aspect of their act, and it was so effective. Of course back then, I wasn’t thinking about performance rhetoric nor was I able to conceptualize how intense my study of it and prophetic rhetoric would become in my academic life. I just was enjoying the growing vibe of togetherness as the band reached out to us as a whole, unified group, chipping away at our cultural sense of being a collective of individuals.

Everything seemed fluid and in flux, an effect that was greatly aided by the lighting for the show, especially the images swirling on the walls and ceiling. In my memory, it all crystallized and became hyperreal, with the opening drumbeat and strains of a song so damn familiar it is cliché. So familiar it instantly taps into the heart of memory. Bono declared for the first time a line that would be repeated in many subsequent performances, “This, this was our song. But it’s your song now.” And the floodgates of emotion hinted at, opened. The song was “Sunday Bloody Sunday.”

The crowd hit the opening lines “I can’t believe the news today/I can’t close my eyes and make it go away - as one voice. The lament of “How long? How long to sing this song” temporarily united us all with those who have ever suffered the kind of anguish that first prompted those words to be written down by the Psalmist.

While we howled through tears, “Sunday/ bloody Sunday” I kept thinking, “but it was a fucking Tuesday. God, nothing happens on Tuesday. Nothing is supposed to happen on Tuesday.” In the music, the pounding and insistent rhythm of what is a very simple song, images of the day - smoke and ash, and falling people who chose to jump rather than burn - came rushing in to be re-examined and processed once again.

Taking up the group sing on “there are many lost, but tell me, who has won?” I felt myself being knit into the audience, a thread in a holy fabric of pain and determination and healing, “Tonight we can be as one/ Wipe the tears from your eyes/Sunday (Tuesday) bloody Sunday (Tuesday).”

The moment was a total surprise. A very necessary surprise and release of cathartic emotion. All these years later, the idea of U2 helping to heal 9/11 trauma has taken on a patina of cheesiness and obviousness to the cynics and the critics, partially because U2 took that moment and attempted to recreate it with so many afterward. But we were the first audience to receive the moment, to feel the rush of pathos that accompanies the prophetic call to memory, to lamentation.

In the scholarly framework I use, the prophet unites the people by those special memories in order to lay out the new vision for the community. This moment was emotional - pathos, but also built credibility - ethos because it demonstrated Bono and U2’s ability to unite the community in a time of crisis. Without those types of moments in the Elevation years, including their performance at the Super Bowl (love it or loathe it, or both), the appeal for the One campaign and the current appeals for justice given during the 360 tour fall flat.

The “Elevation moment” (or is it a movement?) was also the signal that the band had matured enough to mix the madness of rock n roll, which they had fun with during the 90s, with the seriousness of a message of love and peace that has been with them from the beginning of their career. Over the last decade, we have watched as they continue to balance the demands of public image with personal conviction and private struggle - a three way pull that has destroyed many who tried to get by just on personality alone.

In our culture, we increasingly demand perfection in our role models and set up either/or binaries that do not and cannot define the true complex nature of human existence. (Ironic, considering that many spout belief in a post-modern mindset that insists that nothing is fixed.)

Bono, U2, refuses to be one thing or another, and that really bugs some people (and we all know Bono’s reply to that). They are both/and, but remain anchored by what has become an unshakable faith in perfect love. It’s that perfect love that grants reality to their message of healing, conviction to their critique of the political, substance to their spinning of the visionary, and power to their call for justice.

They aren’t perfect people, and they are the first to admit that and celebrate it too. What they have found is a way to tap into what is perfect and share just a little piece of it with us all.

–Laurie Britt-Smith, Contributing Writer

Photos reprinted from various sources including U2tours.com and Sports Illustrated.

U2, Jay-Z Are One for Haiti (Josh Grossberg, E-online)

Sometimes you can’t make it on your own, especially in the midst of a catastrophe. Enter U2 and Jay-Z.

The Edge announced Wednesday that he and bandmates Bono, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr.joined forces with Hova last week to write and record a quickie charity song that will benefit relief efforts in earthquake-ravaged Haiti.

The guitarist told an Irish radio station that producer Swizz Beats contacted him and said he and Jay-Z “wanted to do something for Haiti.”

“So Bono came up with the phrase on the phone and last night we were here, we wrote a song, finished, recorded, and sent it back to them,” said Edge. “So that might be the next thing you hear from us.”

No word yet when the untitled single will hit the airwaves, but no doubt it will be out soon given the urgency of the unfolding disaster in the Caribbean nation. The rapper and Bono are also expected to share the stage in London as part of George Clooney’s two-hour all-star Hope for Haiti telethon, which will air on all major TV networks including E!.

Meanwhile, Rihanna is releasing via iTunes her cover of Bob Marley’s anthem “Redemption Song” that she performed on Wednesday’s The Oprah Winfrey Show, with money raised going to organizations helping Haiti’s victims including the Red Cross, UNICEF, Oxfam America and Partners in Health. Netizens can also purchase the track at Rihannanow.com or Oprah.com.

Photo: Bono with Swizz Beatz from Beatz’ Tweet!

http://www.eonline.com/uberblog/b162962_u2_jay-z_are_one_haiti.html

Read more:http://www.monstersandcritics.com/news/americas/news/article_1527046.php/Rihanna-U2-and-Jay-Z-to-release-charity-singles-for-Haiti#ixzz0dLZqJTei

Legend of Bono’s 1987 death threat alive but unsubstantiated

by Richard Ruelas – Jan. 18, 2010 12:00 AM

The year Arizona was consumed with controversy over Gov. Evan Mecham’s decision to cancel a state holiday honoring Martin Luther King Jr. was also the year that the Irish band U2 played four concerts here.

And dealt with death threats, according to the band. According to the oft-told tale, lead singer Bono would be shot while performing the group’s ode to King, “Pride (In the Name of Love).”

The band’s memory of this 1987 incident has appeared in various books, in magazines and in Bono’s induction speech when the band entered the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

However, those involved with the band’s concerts here do not remember such threats happening in Arizona, as is recounted in some versions of the story.

“Honestly, I don’t recall,” said Barry Fey, the promoter who handled both the April shows at Arizona State University’s basketball arena and the December shows at the university’s football stadium.

Through the years, the death-threat story has changed locations. In most versions, it takes place in Tempe. In one version, it takes place in Los Angeles. And others are less specific, saying it was somewhere in the southern United States.

But crucial elements of the story have remained constant – particularly that the shooting would occur during “Pride.” And Bono’s recollection that bassist Adam Clayton stood in front of him as he sang the song, as if he were a bodyguard.

“Something strange happened toward the end of the Joshua Tree tour,” Bono said in an interview collected in the oral history “U2 by U2,” released in 2006. “We had campaigned for Martin Luther King Day in Tempe, Arizona, where the tour opened back in April. There was a governor there called Mecham who was holding out against it, and we had got involved in local politics there and took a stand. We went back to Tempe at the end of the tour, in December, to play the Sun Devil Stadium.

“I was getting death threats throughout the tour. . . . This character was a racist offended by our work, he thought we were messing in other people’s business and taking sides with the Black man. One night the FBI said: ‘Look, it’s quite serious. He says he has a ticket. He said he’s armed.’… So we played the show, the FBI were around, everyone was a little unnerved. You just didn’t know, could he be in the building?”

Bono said, in the book, that he was singing the third verse of “Pride,” the song that was supposed to trigger the shooting.

“I just closed my eyes and sang,” he said. “And when I opened my eyes, Adam was standing in front of me.”

Neither Tempe police nor Arizona State University police could find a report about the incident. The Phoenix office of the FBI also came up empty. Special Agent Manual Johnson, the FBI’s spokesman, said he was at those shows as a fan but could not locate any report of a threat.

Fey, the now-retired concert promoter who lives in Denver, said he did not recall ordering extra security for any of the four Tempe shows as a result of a threat.

Fey did know how the band felt about Arizona’s controversy. Before the April shows, he took the stage to read a brief statement on behalf of the band. A review in The Phoenix Gazette said the statement called Mecham’s decision “an embarrassment.”

Fey said the crowd reacted with cheers both nights.

“I did expect Bono to say something (about the controversy),” he said. “I did not expect to be his spokesman.”

Fey said the band became aware of Mecham and the King controversy during four days of rehearsal before the April shows, which began its tour in support of the album “The Joshua Tree.”

The band returned in December for two shows at Sun Devil Stadium, concerts filmed for its movie “Rattle and Hum.” In an interview with The Arizona Republic before those shows, Clayton said the band wouldn’t be addressing the still-unsettled King holiday issue.

“I don’t think it’s necessary,” he said. “This is not a political event. It’s a concert. When we were there the first time, we made our point.”

Fans have played guessing games on Web sites, trying to pinpoint where the threat story took place. In some versions of the story, Bono said it happened on the second night of back-to-back shows in the same city. That, coupled with the detail that it took place in a southern U.S. city, helps narrow the possibilities.

A listing of concert dates on the band’s Web site shows the band played two nights in Los Angeles on that leg of the tour. The FBI office in that city did not return messages seeking comment. The band also played two nights in Denver, but Fey was the promoter for those shows as well, and didn’t recall a threat.

Fey said he thinks Bono sincerely believed his life was in danger when he took the stage, whether it was in Tempe or another city. If the story did take place in Tempe, it’s possible someone relayed a warning to the singer but did not share it with Fey, he said.

“He’s not one to lie,” Fey said.

Still, authorities haven’t found what they looked for: hard evidence of a threat against the band in Arizona.

Reach the reporter at richard.ruelas@arizonarepublic.com or 602-444-8473.

http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/arizonaliving/articles/2010/01/18/20100118mlkthreat0118.html

Photos: Editor’s souvenirs from the April 2, 1987 show in Tempe, AZ.

The U.S. tour was but one piece of a larger “360-degrees” global tour that will continue well into 2010, and will likely surpass the $389 million that U2 raked in from its 2005-2007 Vertigo tour, which is second only to the Rolling Stones’ “A Bigger Bang” trek. Billboard reports that U2 “toured Europe in July and August, the U.S. in September and October for a total of 40-45 shows this year.” There are plans for “more stadiums in America in June and July next year, then August and September in Europe. The trek then tentatively will hit South America in the fall of 2010, for potentially as many as 90-100 shows over the next two years.”

Bono and U2 blew other U.S. touring groups out of the water. Theirs was the only tour going over the $100 million mark, as concert revenue increased across the board, despite the recession. It seems that no matter what, music fans will find the dough to hear live music. Second on the Pollstar list was Bruce Springsteen and the E. Street band, which took in almost $95 million, but that was in 58 shows, under $2 million a show compared to the $7.7 mil for U2. Third, if you really want to know, was the irresistible combo of Billy Joel and Elton John, grossing $88 million; the Piano Man meets “Candles in the Wind.”

Is there any other human being/band who could attract the kind of attention and money in the U.S. as Bono and U2 did over such a short period of time? The only possibility that comes to mind is the Pope, who of course draws huge crowds to stadiums in his very infrequent visits to the States.

Of course, those people can see the Pope for free. Could the Pope fill 82,000-seat stadiums at almost $100 a head and often much more? I doubt it. But we’ll probably never find out, since it would be un-Popelike to charge big bucks.

So, absent any other competitive nominees, I have to conclude that Bono and his three U2 cohorts sit at the pinnacle of global visibility and popularity. Since the Bono brand is wrapped up in political and social messaging, what does U2’s popularity mean? Does it translate to the ability to exercise power and create change? What is the relationship between fame and influence? Needless to say, I don’t have the answers to those questions, which will be debated for a long time.

On the Front Lines

Thanks to my friend Erin, I was fortunate to see U2 in action at the ancient Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California, in late October and even to be front-row in the stands (a real privilege, I know, and I am humble). I felt the awe of the spectacle. I loved hearing many classic U2 songs. And the show was impressive — by far the most ambitious construction of a rock concert site, with giant screens and stage innovations designed to blow one’s mind. As noted on the band’s Web site, “With a cylindrical video system of interlocking LED panels, and a steel structure rising 150 feet from the floor over a massive stage with rotating bridges, the band has truly created a intimate 360 experience for concert goers.” The whole shebang reportedly required 200 trucks and some 330 people to construct, and presumably a lot of those millions of dollars were paid out in expenses to produce the monster. Bono probably had more success in putting Americans to work than the TARP funds. But the sheer enormity of the thing also made U2 vulnerable to criticism … more about that in a second.

The most moving portion of the concert was near the end, when a gaggle of Amnesty International volunteers came onto the stage in a long processional, each holding a mask of Aung San Suu Kyi, the long-imprisoned leader of Burma. The procession was accompanied by a stirring video and exhortations from Bono himself. Freeing Aung San Suu Kyi has been one of U2 and Amnesty’s major causes, positioning them at the forefront of international politics while at the same time sadly underscoring their political impotence.

Aung San Suu Kyi has been under house arrest for 19 years, with no end in sight. As Bono says, “Her crime is that if she were to participate in elections, she’d win … We must not stand by as she is silenced again. Now is the time for the UN and the entire international community to speak with one voice: Free Aung San Suu Kyi.” But despite the spotlight shone by Bono, Burma’s oppressive regime doesn’t seem to be budging. The awareness of many millions of concertgoers has not changed the reality in Burma. True, ridding the world of the brutal military junta is not an easy problem to solve. And not a goal the U.S. has been successful at either, although there is some question as to how hard our government has tried, given China’s close relationship with Burma and need for its energy resources.

As for the concert’s extravagance, as AlterNet’s Vanessa Richmond wrote, “Ironically, U2 is outspoken about their commitment to the environment, but carbon output of their tour this year is far bigger even than Madonna’s high-maintenance carbon-heavy tour. U2’s carbon emissions will equal that of 90,000 people flying from Dublin to London, and are equivalent of the waste created by 6,500 average British or Irish people in an entire year (equal to leaving a standard 100 watt light bulb on for 159,000 years). To offset this year’s carbon emissions, U2 would need to plant 20,118 trees.” Before the tour began, “Live Nation, the producers of the U2 360° Tour, confirmed their commitment to producing the largest concert tour in history in an environmentally responsible manner with a goal of balancing the tour’s direct carbon footprint through a comprehensive reduction and offset strategy.”

I wonder if they are going to plant those 20,118 trees?

U2 has also been criticized for their decision several years back to move their assets to the Netherlands in order to take advantage of the country’s lower tax rates; it seemed Bono, a longtime anti-poverty advocate, preferred a more regressive system of taxation when it came to the band’s own earnings.

More recently, Bono drew the ire of net neutrality activists with an op-ed that slammed file-sharing and seemed to suggest online content should be policed. Blogger Cory Doctorow had this to say in response, according to BBC News: “If only greed and ignorance could sequester carbon, Bono could FINALLY save the planet.”

So in the end what do we make of Bono? He continues his strong alliance with Amnesty International, while his ability to converse with and in some cases convince world leaders to shift policy (on Third World debt for example) is widely recognized … and publicized. On the other hand, as the London Times noted in 2007, Naomi Klein, “the poster girl of the anti-globalization movement,” attacked “the Bono-isation of protests … which has reduced discussion to a much safer terrain.” Klein called Bono’s Make Poverty History campaign “the stadium rock model of protest — there’s celebrities and then there’s spectators waving their bracelets. It’s less dangerous and less powerful [than grassroots street demonstrations].”

Klein has a point. People talking, reading and thinking about change are not as productive as people actually creating change. On the other hand, I don’t come to bury Bono. When all is said and done, I’d rather have him up there exhorting the crowd than Mick Jagger or Dave Matthews, for that matter. In the end, Bono is probably a positive force. The more educated and aware people are, the more chance there is for change. U2 makes so many people feel happy and positive — even those in the nosebleed section, the uncomfortable but still pricey seats at the top of the stadium. That is no small thing in this period of high unemployment, underwater mortgages and onerous student loans.

–Don Hazen

Reprinted from AlterNet