|11-11-2003, 09:47 AM||#1|
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: New York
Local Time: 01:00 PM
U2 Story Part 1
I already posted this in Everything You Know Is Wrong, but someone was kind enough to point me in this direction...
ALL THAT YOU CAN’T LEAVE BEHIND – ADVENTURES IN AN AIRPORT
What really happened in Charles De Gaulle?
Chapter one: Stuck In An Airport (And We Can’t Get Out Of It)
A four hour delay.
That’s what they were dealing with. Four hours until their connecting flight. Four hours until they were on their way. Four hours to kill. In an airport.
Usually, they’d have their own plane standing by, but there was no tour in progress. No worldly jaunt from country to country, state to state, continent to continent to show the world, once and for all, that they were, indeed, the world’s greatest rock and roll band.
That was coming. That assault would happen all in due time. There were just...a few things to get out of the way first.
Like finishing the album.
So here they were. Adam, Bono, Larry and The Edge (Edge to his friends). Wandering around Charles De Gaulle Airport, looking for something to do, some time to kill before the connecting flight.
They stopped in the center of Charles De Gaulle. Enough with the walking around, already, let’s form a plan. That was the thinking going on with this band, this unit of four minds joined as one. Sort of.
On the previous flight, Larry had said something to irk the rest of the guys off.
At this point, no one could remember what it was.
Actually, it was probably one of three things; Larry had vetoed a design for a series of t-shirts that the other guys loved, or it was a comment about the lyrics not coming quick enough for the new album, or that he was sick of everyone’s faces.
The first comment, the other guys could understand. The second one, that was Bono’s area, although Edge was helping here and there. The third…well, eight months in a recording studio will do that to you.
Sometimes you just need a little space.
They stood there in the center of the airport, trying to figure out the best way to polish off these next four hours. Except, nobody said anything.
Larry would have apologized for his comment, but he had simply spoken his mind. No need to apologize for honesty. Adam, always the cool one, had other things on his mind. Edge, taking it all in, just nodded. Bono mumbled to himself, fumbling through papers, looking for…something, anything.
Larry finally spoke up, “I’m gonna take a crap.” And with that, he turned and walked off.
Adam and Edge watched him wander off to find the bathroom. Bono, still focused on his papers, muttered “Mmm…mm…you go do that…hurumph.” He was obviously in a zone. Edge watched as Bono shuffled the papers.
Curiosity was consuming Edge. What the hell is Bono looking for? Always one for lightening the mood, Edge spoke up. “Still haven’t found what you’re looking for, Bono?” Edge said with a smile. The kind of smile an eight year old would give when trying to please an impatient parent.
Bono looked up at Edge, blue eyes behind grey lenses. Not amused. He ‘harumphed’ again. Mumbling to himself, he turned and walked off.
Bono had left his bag behind. Edge and Adam looked at each other. The look they’d shared one hundred million times before. You or me? Edge relented. He picked up Bono’ bag and walked away.
Adam stood alone. Just Adam…and Edge’s guitar.
Edge returned seconds later to get his own ‘baggage’. His acoustic guitar, stored in its hard case. He walked off and Adam stood alone. Thoughts running through his brain, he was a man dealing with something. But he wasn’t the type to share it upfront and obvious-like.
Adam looked around at the futuristic surroundings of the airport. He immediately felt like a character in a William Gibson novel, waiting for the next flight to an off-planet vacation spot. The loud speaker ping-pong echoed through the airport, followed by the soothing tones of a pre-recorded female announcer.
Adam sighed, wishing he was home.
In fact, the boys were headed home. Back to Dublin to finish up on the album that they hoped would bring them out of the doldrums that POP left them in. They’d spent a better part of the last month and a half working on songs at Bono’s house in the South of France. A few gems popped up here and there, but something wasn’t clicking. Something didn’t gel.
Adam sighed again. This sucks was the blunt thought in his head.
He wanted to unwind. What he really wanted, was a drink. But no need to ruin a good run of sobriety right now.
Or maybe there was.
Adam turned and walked off, looking for the airport bar.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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