ut Pop defenders seize on this issue like their mother has been insulted. Then they argue every reason in the world as to why it's great except...well...why it's great. I'm yet to read a coherent arguement with at least some objectivity as to what makes this album great. Taste is subjective, but there must be some middle gorund, some commonalities that the art (in this case, music as art) world can agree on that define greatness. Otherwise, my three year old's scribblings are just as great as the Mona Lisa
Ok, I’ll bite. I love the album. But I think we all as fans have this fantasy that if we just explain well enough, using exactly the right words, why we like what we like, we’ll bring everyone else around and they’ll hear it through our ears. Doesn’t usually work that way. But what the hell: I’ll just try to make a few “coherent arguments” about lyrics and music. No time to cover them all, but -
Lyrics - some of their best ever-
- Discotheque. As someone who really, really likes words, who has to be confined to a straitjacket for a week every time he hears some rapper make a bad rhyme, I think it’s brilliant. Top-notch bono. It’s a riddle about love - it’s no trick, cause you can’t earn it; it’s the way that don’t pay that’s ok, cause you can’t earn it - which is spot-on in every particular. Lyrics rarely get this good.
- Mofo. It still gives me chills to hear “looking for a sound’s gonna drown out the world / looking for the father of my two little girls...” I think that’s just as confessional and intimate, if not more so, than SYCMIOYO, or Kite, or Acrobat. Pop is all about aphorisms and puns; tight, short phrases that bite. On Discotheque it’s meant to be deceptively shallow; here it’s just moving. On DYFL it’s sexy in a sinister way.
Music - Well, either you like it or you don’t, obviously. All I can do is try to advance a few reasons why I think it’s worth liking. The mixes aren’t always the best; but the general tone is always right. And it may be that tone that many people don’t like - Pop is a twilight-to-midnight album, something you listen to with a bottle of wine and cigarettes, and no company, and vague heartache you can’t put your finger on.
Discotheque - great riff, great bassline, and wonderful vocal technique from bono. Absolutely beautiful, haunting falsetto work here, up there with The Fly and Ultraviolet. Wonderful production layering - double-tracked vocals; mysterious sounds in the background; and the gorgeous, knee-weakening falsetto orgasm just before the boom-cha section kicks in at the end. I cannot praise this song enough.
Velvet Dress - I have not made out to this song, but I will someday.
Please - One of the few U2 songs I have trouble listening to without being ready for it beforehand. So quiet, so restrained, and yet rising to this pitch of almost unbearable pleading - as good as the live versions are, the (original) studio cut still blows me away. Beautiful drum work. Bono sounds world-weary, disgusted, too furious to rasie his voice. Sunday Bloody Sunday without the naivete, but with the idealism still intact.
Wake Up Dead Man - U2’s creepiest song. Listen to the guitar work - the simple lick during the chorus; the gentle, mournful picking during the bridge - and that tremolo opera voice they’ve sampled throughout the track. This song conjures up an entire world.
Alright, gotta bet to bed. Does that help at all, RobH? Sorry I couldn’t be more articulate; it’s late