HelloAngel
ONE love, blood, life
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By Devlin Smith, Contributing Editor
2005.08
I've been a fan of U2 for longer than I can remember but in all that time I never really saw The Edge as a guitar hero. I do hold guitarists in quite high esteem but it was the shredders and virtuosos that caught my attention; players like Slash and, master of them all, Eddie Van Halen. With his deliberate, understated style of play, Edge never really registered with me.
Certainly "Bullet the Blue Sky" made me swoon and "One" tugged at my heartstrings, but even in his most stellar moments, Edge's playing just didn't grab me the same as Brian Setzer's candy apple red Gretsch always has. That is, until the Vertigo Tour.
I was lucky enough to get tickets for three of U2's first six dates of the tour (that's San Diego 1, Anaheim 1 and Los Angeles 1 for the curious). And while Edge's playing wasn't necessarily my driving force, my admiration of his singing, songwriting, performing, intelligence and humor, and the fact that as 27-year-old woman with a 13-year-old girl stashed not-so-deep inside, I think Edge is fantastically handsome, any day spent in the same atmosphere as the man is a good one.
But during the course of the first show, and the two that followed, something amazing happened—Edge transformed into a rock star before my eyes. He came out of his shell, stomping, strutting, smiling (smiling!), playing to the audience, playing with his band members, and truly glad to be in the spotlight. Gone was the shy boy from "I Will Follow," the man who closed his eyes when singing "Sunday Bloody Sunday" in Mexico, Bono's straight man, and in his place was someone who demanded awe and attention, and got it in spades.
Bono has long described Edge as a gentleman and perhaps that's why he wasn't a true guitar god until this tour. Gentleman aren't rock stars, they're quiet and unassuming, never the type to attract attention to themselves. Attracting attention is all that rock stars do, jumping off amps, smashing guitars, setting gear on fire. Edge was never that type; he'd play his part, play it well, begrudgingly accept applause and make his way off stage.
Now Edge seems to be a whole new performer—a person finally coming to terms with being a member of the world's biggest band and ready to live it up. He has played at rock star in the past, wearing the spangled pants and chunky jewelry while mimicking a series of well-choreographed kicks and punches. But that's all it seemed to be, mimicry. Just as Bono was doing his best Lizard King act during the early '90s, Edge was trying his best to be Hendrix, Page, Townsend, but it was more dress up than anything.
On this tour, it seems that Edge has found a comfortable middle ground, a way to meld all that rock star flash with his own gentlemanly genius. His playing style hasn't changed, it's still all about the spiraling notes, the solos without demand, but the performance has ramped up several notches. Now it's hard for me to take my eyes off Edge; not because I want to look but because it seems he wants me, and everyone else in the arena, to look. And continue to look I will.
So on his 44th birthday I want to tell Edge, wow, I've been knocked out by you so many times on this tour and can't wait to see what you have in store for me on the third Vertigo leg. You're a rock star now, man, so live it up. Demolish some gear, light something on fire, trash a hotel room, and just revel in your new-found guitar hero status.
By Devlin Smith, Contributing Editor
2005.08
I've been a fan of U2 for longer than I can remember but in all that time I never really saw The Edge as a guitar hero. I do hold guitarists in quite high esteem but it was the shredders and virtuosos that caught my attention; players like Slash and, master of them all, Eddie Van Halen. With his deliberate, understated style of play, Edge never really registered with me.
Certainly "Bullet the Blue Sky" made me swoon and "One" tugged at my heartstrings, but even in his most stellar moments, Edge's playing just didn't grab me the same as Brian Setzer's candy apple red Gretsch always has. That is, until the Vertigo Tour.
I was lucky enough to get tickets for three of U2's first six dates of the tour (that's San Diego 1, Anaheim 1 and Los Angeles 1 for the curious). And while Edge's playing wasn't necessarily my driving force, my admiration of his singing, songwriting, performing, intelligence and humor, and the fact that as 27-year-old woman with a 13-year-old girl stashed not-so-deep inside, I think Edge is fantastically handsome, any day spent in the same atmosphere as the man is a good one.
But during the course of the first show, and the two that followed, something amazing happened—Edge transformed into a rock star before my eyes. He came out of his shell, stomping, strutting, smiling (smiling!), playing to the audience, playing with his band members, and truly glad to be in the spotlight. Gone was the shy boy from "I Will Follow," the man who closed his eyes when singing "Sunday Bloody Sunday" in Mexico, Bono's straight man, and in his place was someone who demanded awe and attention, and got it in spades.
Bono has long described Edge as a gentleman and perhaps that's why he wasn't a true guitar god until this tour. Gentleman aren't rock stars, they're quiet and unassuming, never the type to attract attention to themselves. Attracting attention is all that rock stars do, jumping off amps, smashing guitars, setting gear on fire. Edge was never that type; he'd play his part, play it well, begrudgingly accept applause and make his way off stage.
Now Edge seems to be a whole new performer—a person finally coming to terms with being a member of the world's biggest band and ready to live it up. He has played at rock star in the past, wearing the spangled pants and chunky jewelry while mimicking a series of well-choreographed kicks and punches. But that's all it seemed to be, mimicry. Just as Bono was doing his best Lizard King act during the early '90s, Edge was trying his best to be Hendrix, Page, Townsend, but it was more dress up than anything.
On this tour, it seems that Edge has found a comfortable middle ground, a way to meld all that rock star flash with his own gentlemanly genius. His playing style hasn't changed, it's still all about the spiraling notes, the solos without demand, but the performance has ramped up several notches. Now it's hard for me to take my eyes off Edge; not because I want to look but because it seems he wants me, and everyone else in the arena, to look. And continue to look I will.
So on his 44th birthday I want to tell Edge, wow, I've been knocked out by you so many times on this tour and can't wait to see what you have in store for me on the third Vertigo leg. You're a rock star now, man, so live it up. Demolish some gear, light something on fire, trash a hotel room, and just revel in your new-found guitar hero status.
. Anyhow, edge is God, all hail LORD EDGE!
