Review: U2 iPod and ‘The Complete U2′*

By Teresa Rivas
2005.01

I have to admit that from the beginning I was biased.

When I first heard about the U2 iPod and accompanying digital box set (and their respective price tags—$349 for the iPod and $149 for the box set) I immediately began planning to sell my kidney on the black market to pay for them. Sure, I eat candy for breakfast but I figured I look healthy enough to fool any organ trafficker and once I regained consciousness, I would be able to afford both and be a few pounds lighter.

Luckily I got the iPod and box set for Christmas, my organs remaining intact. However, even if I had gone by my first route, I’m sure it would have been well worth the trade.

The iPod is beautiful in person. The black and white I’m sure comes as no surprise to any U2 fan who surely noticed by now that the majority of the band’s albums appear to be designed like grainy, unfocused daguerreotypes from the post-Civil War era, with the notable exceptions of the ’90s records that were decoupaged with grainy, unfocused color photographs. Still, the classic combination is a relief from the sterile colors of the standard iPod and there could be no better color for the wheel than red. With a nod to the packaging of "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb," it’s the only color that’s escaped prismatic vacuum of many of U2′s albums. It’s the color of blood and war, the color of passion, of the setting sun, of Mr. MacPhisto’s lipstick. I hardly could have asked for more.

(Source: Apple)

The chrome backing mirrors my excitement and I found the autographs to be an excellent addition. Yet, beauty is fleeting, and I found that within minutes the first scratches appeared on my iPod’s pristine surface. I know iPods are known for their delicacy but it was heartbreaking to realize how quickly mine was broken in. Although the protective cover is an option, I rebelled against it, I hardly wanted to conceal my iPod’s individuality with a routine black case. Future damage is inevitable but at least for now a little careful handling keeps me from having to hide it. Pocket-sized, I usually make sure there’s nothing else jostling against my iPod when I have it tucked away, and I’ve found that a glove makes a good cover in a pinch against the marauding points of pens and coins.

Aesthetics aside, it’s wonderful fun. After being subjected to the rough radio versions of "Vertigo," the sound quality was stunning. The ear buds took some getting used to and the covers are apt to come loose often. Otherwise, I’ve had no complaints. I spent hours setting up play lists, importing music and fiddling with the settings—it was not lacking for options. Although I doubt I’ll ever transpose all my contacts to my iPod, I love all the extras. I found myself playing the music quiz until my hand hurt (see if you can identify this rare U2 live track in less than three seconds) and rotating through my wealth of songs with the touch-sensitive wheel, probably my favorite feature. This must be how Scrooge McDuck feels when he goes for a swim in his money. The shuffle feature is also helpful before you set up your play lists so you don’t listen to all 10 versions of "Even Better of the Real Thing" consecutively, as they appear listed alphabetically. It can be frustrating to scroll through so many songs, artists and albums without the ability to skip to a certain letter or knowing exactly what you’re looking for, but there is some comfort in that your library is your own and not riddled with unwanted tracks.

The digital box set has enough to keep any fan busy for some time but the first thing that struck me about "The Complete U2" was the misnomer "complete." Never mind that the day after I got mine, iTunes added four tracks from the band’s impromptu live performance on a flatbed truck in New York City, instantly rendering my collection incomplete, even more disturbing is the amount of songs inherently missing from this set. At least 85 tracks that could have been included were not and instead almost 50 songs are repeated, either as singles that are almost identical to their album counterparts or songs that appear on more than one record, for example the original release and the greatest hits’ version.

(Source: Apple)

True, I was overwhelmed with the thought of having so many U2 songs in one place so the omissions were not glaring at first. However, as I began to work my way through the albums I did find that the repetition was a bit gratuitous. I understand that a track could be a part of several different albums and I don’t mind them being there for consistency, but to count the exact same song more than once seems a bit disingenuous to the final count. In light of what was missing—my beloved cover of "Everlasting Love," Bono’s "Children of the Revolution" where he croons "I drive a Rolls Royce ’cause it’s good for my voice”—this count seems especially suspicious. Another absentee collection is the stolen "Salome" sessions that were widely bootlegged but never officially distributed. In this age of piracy wars, it would have been a clever way to circumvent their mystique to make these songs available on iTunes.

I suppose the "Very-Close-to-Complete U2" would not have made as catchy of a title, but I still find it unsettling that although these omitted tracks are well documented among the fan base there has been little, if any, official response to their absence. It’s insulting that anyone would think a true U2 fan who would make this kind of investment wouldn’t notice, especially after we’d been salivating over the hope of a new album for the past four years with only the scraps of releases past to sustain us. It only encourages file sharing—iTunes is hardly going to offer me "Happiness is a Warm Gun" since it was excluded from the set so I’ll have to look for it elsewhere.

Despite these setbacks, it is a grand collection. My new favorites were almost all live versions, including those from the 1981 Boston show (held two years before my birth, thus precluding my attendance). They’re full of a young, energetic Bono who I can imagine dancing around in checkered pants. Yet the greatest finds for me were songs from the PopMart Tour in Mexico City. Without the luxury of an "Hasta La Vista Baby" DVD, my greatest treasures were "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me," "Bullet the Blue Sky," "Mofo," "Please" and "Gone" all live at Foro Autodromo. It makes me wish for a wide release of DVDs from the ZooTV and PopMart tours, it seems ironic that the age of U2′s flashiest, most extravagant shows that were so immersed in their visual elements remain untapped in this market of digital remastery.

As a citizen of North America, it was lovely to finally have "The Ground Beneath Her Feet" on "All That You Can’t Leave Behind," "Fast Cars" on “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb” and "The Fly" on the second greatest hits. I enjoyed tracks from the "Passengers" album like "Elvis Ate America," and as "Achtung Baby" is my favorite album, I faithfully listened to all 27 single tracks, despite the distressing absence of "Satellite of Love."

Of course suffering an entire presidential term without a new CD made me appreciate the glut of new songs on “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb,” but it was even more exciting to see the alternative versions. For a band with such an extensive catalog, I love to hear the songs that came before the final product because they’re often as good as finished songs themselves. Of course I know that, if anything, the members of U2 are perfectionists and not everything that didn’t make the cut was unfairly axed. But with alternative versions, you can build your own CDs—my “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb” now includes "Native Son" and "Xanax and Wine." To own songs that feel like they belong with your favorites is a rare glimpse into the inner workings of U2′s studio and lets you play producer.

Perhaps it’s asking too much, but because the box set is so pricy it would be quite magnanimous of iTunes to allow us, at a discount, to keep updating our collections to keep them "complete" as new songs arrive.

Of course I knew all along that I was going to fall in love with Bonovox, (when my computer asked for a name, "good voice" seemed appropriate for my iPod), after growing up with bulky, temperamental CD players, the iPod really is a godsend. I’ve happily abandoned the world of fragile disks with cracked cases. Keeping the almost-complete U2 in my pocket is something that’s well worth the expense. Life looks better when you wander through it with U2 as your soundtrack, it’s as if you can see the world through blue-colored glasses.