U2 - NO LINE ON THE HORIZON Mike Ragogna music biz vet, entertainment writer
Posted March 2, 2009 | 05:28 AM (EST)
Well, if you were expecting another All That You Can't Leave Behind or How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb - Part II, forget it. However, U2 is back to experimenting (Achtung Baby) which has not always been a good thing (Zooropa), but in this case, it's great (No Line On The Horizon). This latest U2 release is more engaging than self-indulgent, and from the moment we hear the title track's opening line, "I know a girl who's like the sea, I watch her changing every day for me," we're clued-in that the album's musical horizon line will be just as challenging. There are familiar landmark's along the way, such as revisited chord patterns, stylized Bonomotions, Adam Clayton's bass riffs, Larry Mullen, Jr.'s drums, and The Edge's guitars, especially those in "Magnificent"'s intro that reprise "Sunday Bloody Sunday." The three co-producers lend their usual, very large helping hands: Brian Eno sings background and programs 'til his fingers drop, Daniel "Danny" Lanois also adds vocals plus those swimmy, million dollar guitar layers, and Steve Lillywhite engineers and mixes No Line On The Horizon like it was the most important assignment ever.
Like any good U2 album, this is about a journey of the soul both through love and how it relates to global concerns. On the album's mid-tempo "Moment Of Surrender," Bono sings about a fall from love like the Fall From Eden. "It's not if I believe in love, but if love believes in me" is his realization -- "love" being bigger than him or his relationships; without it, he admits it's like living in an emotional "black hole." One of song's best visuals accompanies the line, "I was punching in the numbers at the ATM machine, I could see in the reflection a face staring back at me." This could be dismissed as a variation on the old "taking a good look in the mirror and not being happy with what I see" cliché. But that's not where the song is going. Quick, profound thoughts such as, "Is this all there is?" or "I've got to fix my life," if we're honest with ourselves, occur daily on the grocery line, at the stop light, or, yeah, at the ATM machine. Bono closes the song with the chorus' profound hook, "At the moment of surrender of vision over visibility, I did not notice the passers-by and they did not notice me," describing the results of his surrender of self-importance, a human flaw that often gets in the way.
"Unknown Caller" is more poem than song, mating typical technology-speak with life during the wee small hours of the morning (when one is "lost between the midnight and the dawning"). Phrases like "speed dialing with no numbers at all," "force quit and move to trash" "restart and reboot yourself," "password, you enter here, right now," are a tad silly, and they're not going to endear themselves to critics and everyone's first listen. But...play this track while going online at like two in the morning and see how you feel about it...not bad, huh? This is one of the album's handful of lab tests that just needs the proper microscope.
In "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight," Bono sets us up with yet another one of U2's women, then informs us, "There's a part of me in the chaos that's quiet, there's a part of you that wants me to riot." Just when you're sure you're listening to a simple come-on song (or at least a plea for a night out with the boys), in steps "every generation gets a chance to change the world," "the sweetest melody is the one we haven't heard," and "we're gonna make it all the way to the light." Um, meaning let's have a baby? After all, there'll be some "shouting to the darkness," as they "squeeze out sparks of light." But even if this is not a U2 impregnation anthem, the final lyric's, "You know we'll go crazy if we don't go crazy tonight...slowly now..." surely conjures something done naked.
That brings us to one of the album's more "commercial" tracks, "Get On Your Boots." If you love Elvis Costello's "Pump It Up," you're gonna REALLY kinda like this one. Oh, the joy you'll feel listening to that same rhyming pattern that is suddenly thrown off-kilter with a Beatles-ish pre-chorus ("You don't know how beautiful you are..."), complete with an unintended, coincidental cloning of a line from Rupert Holmes' "You Don't Get It." But wait...order now and you'll get lyrics filled with international intrigue, liberation, psychedelic non-sequiturs, and a Maren Jensen-style hottie strutting around in sexy Nancy Sinatra boots. But that's not all! U2 throws in just enough grinding guitars, handclaps and sixties keyboards to transport you back to that marvelous, pre-Ginsu knife era. Hey, I'm buyin' it!
With a simplified guitar riff that blends iconic Bad Company with more than a hint of Jimi Hendrix, "Stand Up Comedy" has the dubious honor of playing along innocently until it hits the phrase "...our love is stretched in-between our two towers." Now, U2 absolutely knows that's a very touchy button they're pushing, even nowadays, and especially in a song titled, "Stand Up Comedy." But, hold on, the redemption comes with patience, since the song pitches that people should "stand up" for things they believe in (like "love," of course) and against bad things (that aren't "love," of course). The comedy comes in the context of the general global stupidity that's gone down to this point. Speaking of comedy (no, not really), the first half of the experimental "FEZ-Being Born" pulls off a Beatles White Album-esque sound collage before it segues into the most poetic read of a "crash" (as a metaphor for either birth or death) you've ever heard.
The track bleeds into "White As Snow"'s acoustic guitar intro that is very reminiscent of Paul Simon's moody "Duncan." Like Simon's song, it sets up a dreary existence in the lyrics: "Where I come from, there were no hills at all, the land was flat, the highway straight and wide." Instead of heading down the turnpike to New England as Simon said, "White As Snow" taps Springsteen territory that places the singer with his brother traveling in a car for what seems like years, their "faces as pale as the dirty snow." Eventually, the story arrives in a post-apocalyptic landscape as every good folk song should (this one composed with a traditional melody and original lyrics). Its lesson touts appreciation for what you've got, its deeper message being, "If only a heart could be as white as snow."
With a possible fortune awaiting if paid by the word, U2's rock waltz "Breathe" is classic with moments of old Jefferson Airplane harmonies in the chorus. Bono appeals, "Walk out into the street, sing your heart out, the people we meet will not be drowned out," but what seems like yet another U2 call to arm-in-arms is more like the wearing of a brave face. Then, that aforementioned journey of the soul ends in the luscious "Cedars Of Lebanon" that gets real personal through lines like, "I have your face here in an old Polaroid, tidying the children's clothes and toys, you're smiling back at me, I took the photo from the fridge." We're all in that kitchen, in that photo, and in the scenario that follows, as told by, presumably, a sad, lonely soldier who is far from home. Sporadically-introduced edgy synth sounds intentionally prevent the listener from ever settling-in with the surroundings, mildly simulating what our soldier is experiencing. Then, the song--as well as No Line On The Horizon--leaves the listener with these wise, sobering words: "Choose your enemies carefully 'cos they will define you...they're not there in the beginning, but when your story ends, gonna last with you longer than your friend." Regardless of what the album title suggests, this group still knows how to help us keep our bearings.
but the page isn't even public yet is it?
