HelloAngel
ONE love, blood, life
[SIMG]http://bonovox.interference.com/reviews/httadbcover-sml.jpg[/SIMG]
By Andy Smith
2005.04
With a tour and the release of an album with U2’s most pretentious and ambitious title yet, the critical sport of Bonophobia has come back to center stage. Without blaming the bashers, can discerning fans discover what truly motivates some to blast the band with such blunt bile?
What do we make of how this record is either panned or praised, lashed or lauded? Is doing an iPod promotion—and not taking the money—really the root of all rock 'n' roll evil? What about the crass capitalistic side of the Vertigo Tour and all the ticket-brokers who make Bono's evil huckster preacher peeling off those dollar bills in "Bullet the Blue Sky" seem more saintly?
I must confess that the easiest out for the loyal fan is something simplistic, something like, "They hate U2 because the band's popular." It's sort of the pop culture version of "They hate us because we're free" and other illogical explanations for the September 11th attacks.
Serious fandom is a dangerous habit and love for a frontman like Bono can lead to frequent betrayals. The singer himself has said that "grace trumps karma" and if it didn't, he'd be in serious trouble. Isn't part of our problem the monastic pedestal we place our beloved Bono on? Don't we want him to be the Bono we always loved or remembered from our favorite band moment, whether it's a punk with a mullet in ripped jeans waving a white flag or a bespectacled badass icon mocking his own spectacle?
Since my serious Bonophilia was born of the 1984-87 period, I thought I'd left my youthful U2-opian obsessions behind. And it was easy to say that I knew the band in theaters, as truly "alternative," as outsiders looking in. I could lay righteous claim to having tasted the fire when it was pure propane, before it became mere digital copy. Yes, like so many after "Rattle and Hum," I went from faithful Bonophile to fed-up Bonophobe.
But in 2001, I started to come back into the family "All That You Can’t Leave Behind" led me to leave behind many cynical doubts about my spiritual connection to this band and this singer. "Elevation," "Beautiful Day," "Walk On," and "Kite" remain all-time favorites today. I was ready to join the faithful fan community again.
But then 9/11 came, as did U2’'s Super Bowl set. I never thought that the White Flag would be replaced with the American flag. Suddenly, it actually looked like the "pragmatic" Bono was going pro-war.
But weary of such wasted rage by 2004, I was all-too-ready to forgive the prodigal Hewson when the "Bomb" got dropped in my car stereo in late November.
Now, I've come back home again to my first love, my obsession, my rock 'n' roll religion. This album is why I'm writing again for the fan community (I did U2 'zines in the '80s before the internet), why I have replaced my old, lost vinyl and cassette collection with CDs, why I've been reading about the band and meditating on its message obsessively, getting ready for seeing U2 on tour with feelings I haven't had for 18 years in the days before "Joshua Tree" opened in Arizona (when Bono was getting death threats), and I was there.
This week, I read a sampling of the 711 reviews of the "Bomb" on GoldLyrics.com. The sincerity and severity in the anti-Bono sentiment shocked me with the awful possibility that I'm just a dupe for the devil in angel's clothes (especially since my political beliefs see some of the inherent hypocrisy in the album-tour-Hall of Fame-hype).
One negative review from a fan in Germany captures the scent and sentiment of so many, "When I look at U2 I see dollars, I see commercials, I see lies, I see sold out men, I see drinks, I see fishing, I see mainstream, I see arrogance, I see rented songs and sounds, I see emptiness, I see rubbish, I see forgotten honesty, I see entertainment, I see iPod, I see fake interviews and news, I see discrimination, I see George Bush, I see disappointment, I see alienation, I see spitting, I see stupidity, I see greed, I see rotten downing era, I see materialism, I see marketing, I see stores, I see Rolling Stone, I see Grammy Awards, I see over-production, I see falsity, I see cockies, I see tricks, I see factory...I see nothing from the U2 I loved."
I think we're better fans if we see the truth in this sense of betrayal. But past the blogging punditocracy pretentiously blasting Bono's pretensions, I think that this record is real and that these boys are back. Actually, in catching up with the valid and visionary experiments of "Pop" and "Zooropa," I realize they never left.
Frankly, a part of all of us wants to agree with the cynical posts and threads and spend the millions or more we'll collectively spend on U2 this year on something else, even on one of the band's celebrated causes. But the emotional impact of the "Bomb" reveals a very different feeling, something proud, something eerie and ethereal, something we can't shake.
I'd really, truly, wholly, completely given up on this band years ago after being a "Joshua Tree"-era Bonophilic freak. But the last two records prove me a fan with each listen. I'm still having a "Beautiful Day," "Kite" still makes me cry, and I've forgiven many of Bono's sins of ego and greed and becoming the system he was supposed to destroy. How do we relate to the new record? I think at least 80 percent of the songs do for me what "The Joshua Tree" did—take me to the higher ground of "One Tree Hill" just outside the "City of Blinding Lights," "Where the Streets Have No Name" and freedom has the scent like the top of my newborn baby's head.
When I flipped over "War" at 17, I was a card-carrying Christian and a wannabe Bono preacher. Today, I'm much more eclectic, pantheistic, and ecumenical, but Jesus remains in my pantheon (it's just the hardcore fundamentalists that make me queasy). On this record, I like the return to anti-war themes linked to utopian and mystical spirituality. As a dad with a pre-teen daughter, "Original of the Species" makes me want to cry almost every time.
Now, this is the "Bomb" that keeps on dropping, on my heart and in my brain, climbing into my play list when I look the other way. This is love without limits. Sometimes we can't make it on my own.
By Andy Smith
2005.04
With a tour and the release of an album with U2’s most pretentious and ambitious title yet, the critical sport of Bonophobia has come back to center stage. Without blaming the bashers, can discerning fans discover what truly motivates some to blast the band with such blunt bile?
What do we make of how this record is either panned or praised, lashed or lauded? Is doing an iPod promotion—and not taking the money—really the root of all rock 'n' roll evil? What about the crass capitalistic side of the Vertigo Tour and all the ticket-brokers who make Bono's evil huckster preacher peeling off those dollar bills in "Bullet the Blue Sky" seem more saintly?
I must confess that the easiest out for the loyal fan is something simplistic, something like, "They hate U2 because the band's popular." It's sort of the pop culture version of "They hate us because we're free" and other illogical explanations for the September 11th attacks.
Serious fandom is a dangerous habit and love for a frontman like Bono can lead to frequent betrayals. The singer himself has said that "grace trumps karma" and if it didn't, he'd be in serious trouble. Isn't part of our problem the monastic pedestal we place our beloved Bono on? Don't we want him to be the Bono we always loved or remembered from our favorite band moment, whether it's a punk with a mullet in ripped jeans waving a white flag or a bespectacled badass icon mocking his own spectacle?
Since my serious Bonophilia was born of the 1984-87 period, I thought I'd left my youthful U2-opian obsessions behind. And it was easy to say that I knew the band in theaters, as truly "alternative," as outsiders looking in. I could lay righteous claim to having tasted the fire when it was pure propane, before it became mere digital copy. Yes, like so many after "Rattle and Hum," I went from faithful Bonophile to fed-up Bonophobe.
But in 2001, I started to come back into the family "All That You Can’t Leave Behind" led me to leave behind many cynical doubts about my spiritual connection to this band and this singer. "Elevation," "Beautiful Day," "Walk On," and "Kite" remain all-time favorites today. I was ready to join the faithful fan community again.
But then 9/11 came, as did U2’'s Super Bowl set. I never thought that the White Flag would be replaced with the American flag. Suddenly, it actually looked like the "pragmatic" Bono was going pro-war.
But weary of such wasted rage by 2004, I was all-too-ready to forgive the prodigal Hewson when the "Bomb" got dropped in my car stereo in late November.
Now, I've come back home again to my first love, my obsession, my rock 'n' roll religion. This album is why I'm writing again for the fan community (I did U2 'zines in the '80s before the internet), why I have replaced my old, lost vinyl and cassette collection with CDs, why I've been reading about the band and meditating on its message obsessively, getting ready for seeing U2 on tour with feelings I haven't had for 18 years in the days before "Joshua Tree" opened in Arizona (when Bono was getting death threats), and I was there.
This week, I read a sampling of the 711 reviews of the "Bomb" on GoldLyrics.com. The sincerity and severity in the anti-Bono sentiment shocked me with the awful possibility that I'm just a dupe for the devil in angel's clothes (especially since my political beliefs see some of the inherent hypocrisy in the album-tour-Hall of Fame-hype).
One negative review from a fan in Germany captures the scent and sentiment of so many, "When I look at U2 I see dollars, I see commercials, I see lies, I see sold out men, I see drinks, I see fishing, I see mainstream, I see arrogance, I see rented songs and sounds, I see emptiness, I see rubbish, I see forgotten honesty, I see entertainment, I see iPod, I see fake interviews and news, I see discrimination, I see George Bush, I see disappointment, I see alienation, I see spitting, I see stupidity, I see greed, I see rotten downing era, I see materialism, I see marketing, I see stores, I see Rolling Stone, I see Grammy Awards, I see over-production, I see falsity, I see cockies, I see tricks, I see factory...I see nothing from the U2 I loved."
I think we're better fans if we see the truth in this sense of betrayal. But past the blogging punditocracy pretentiously blasting Bono's pretensions, I think that this record is real and that these boys are back. Actually, in catching up with the valid and visionary experiments of "Pop" and "Zooropa," I realize they never left.
Frankly, a part of all of us wants to agree with the cynical posts and threads and spend the millions or more we'll collectively spend on U2 this year on something else, even on one of the band's celebrated causes. But the emotional impact of the "Bomb" reveals a very different feeling, something proud, something eerie and ethereal, something we can't shake.
I'd really, truly, wholly, completely given up on this band years ago after being a "Joshua Tree"-era Bonophilic freak. But the last two records prove me a fan with each listen. I'm still having a "Beautiful Day," "Kite" still makes me cry, and I've forgiven many of Bono's sins of ego and greed and becoming the system he was supposed to destroy. How do we relate to the new record? I think at least 80 percent of the songs do for me what "The Joshua Tree" did—take me to the higher ground of "One Tree Hill" just outside the "City of Blinding Lights," "Where the Streets Have No Name" and freedom has the scent like the top of my newborn baby's head.
When I flipped over "War" at 17, I was a card-carrying Christian and a wannabe Bono preacher. Today, I'm much more eclectic, pantheistic, and ecumenical, but Jesus remains in my pantheon (it's just the hardcore fundamentalists that make me queasy). On this record, I like the return to anti-war themes linked to utopian and mystical spirituality. As a dad with a pre-teen daughter, "Original of the Species" makes me want to cry almost every time.
Now, this is the "Bomb" that keeps on dropping, on my heart and in my brain, climbing into my play list when I look the other way. This is love without limits. Sometimes we can't make it on my own.
Last edited: