The Preludin Canon 4 Open for 1986-95
May 12, 2023 14:55:26 GMT
fange, loveless, and 1 more like this
Post by Reactionary Rage on May 12, 2023 14:55:26 GMT
1987
Are U2 the most caveated band of all time? Even people who say they like ‘em often seem compelled to offer something negative about Bono or use the word “anthemic” as a pejorative as if there is something innately embarrassing about admitting you ever really liked ‘em. Christ, heaven forfend! Like viewing a high school year-book photograph of an acne covered face framed by a terrible haircut and grimacing in embarrassment that you ever looked so goddamn retarded. Part of this reaction is a natural consequence of longevity I guess, when a band naturally moves past their imperial phase and enters the wonky, middle age phase where they increasingly resemble an ersatz tribute band to themselves. Happens to the best of 'em folks. Of course with U2 their enormous success and late 80s ubiquity offers something easy to kick against (completely understandable) but also, admittedly, their naffer moments do too. Like when Bono said he was stealing something back for the Beatles or when he had a mullet that could shame an Australian. Moments people. Being a U2 fan, however, you accept this is all part of the package and you acknowledge some of the criticisms have truth to them but like a flawed human being you’re exceptionally found of you love ‘em anyway because at their best they made some wonderful music and Bono is a great rock n roll star with a magnificent voice who sang on records like this.
“I’ll show you a place, high on a desert plain…”
This for me is their absolute peak, the moment where everything great and special about the band coalesced into a transcendent whole in a way that is undeniable. This is the quintessence of U2 and I use that word deliberately because of its celestial associations; for there is something about the bands best work (see also The Unforgettable Fire, Gloria, I Still Haven’t…) that possess a certain religiosity, a depth of feeling and spiritual yearning that separates it from the vast majority of the music that was made around the same time. It’s this quality in Bono’s voice and lyrics, a slightly gauche Celtic romanticism and innocence combined with a desire for communal transcendence that is simultaneously their greatest strength and their achilles heal for naysayers. It’s why they broke America in such a huge way imo because the old-world cynicism, fatigue and (God help us all) irony in this part of the world had not infected the heartlands of that great country and Americans instinctively understood and reacted to the band’s passion and soul accordingly. It’s why I suspect, on some level, there has always been a snootiness and dismissive reaction in some quarters over here because they tap into something that is deemed passé and embarrassing somehow. Regardless they still sold shitloads everywhere because in the arid desert of 80s rock, dominated by hair metal and MTV, they offered something really quite different. That is not to say they didn’t have obvious musical influences but the place where the music and lyrics came from tapped into a metaphysical world quite, quite different from their peers.
It starts appropriately then which a synth that sounds like a church organ courtesy of Brian Eno. One of those lovely little ambient touches that Eno seemed to pull out his arse back then and you sense not just a sacred, hymnal quality to the music but an expectation (and hope) that something very big is about to happen. Fittingly then there is a tangible sense of space and time, of freedom and possibilities, of a place beyond the material world where the intimate and the vast combine into some mystical whole, captured perfectly when Edge, Larry and Adam climax during a moment (1.17) that really does feel like watching the sun rise over a scorched, desert plateau. I mean, you can feel that, right? Yeah? Bono senses the glory of it all and not only does he sing the living fuck out of it, his lyrics manage to combine a moving, old world Biblical imagery with a defiant, Born To Run romanticism that, and I can’t lie here, has made me shed a tear on more than one occasion. Listening to it now for the thousandth time all the tired brickbats hurled at U2 dissolve into the dusty ether as the band move effortlessly through the gears, endlessly pushing the song to a higher and higher (desert) plain in a way that is really quite magnificent. Anthemic? Fuck yeah. Transcendent? Of course! And just when you think they can’t get any higher they switch it up again at 4.13 before ending, appropriately with all those gorgeous, delayed, guitar arpeggio’s that let us know we’ve finally arrived at That Place.
Personal memory: I only fully grasped just how evocative this record was btw on the way back from a day trip to the Grand Canyon when, munching a large back of Cheetos, and at the back of the bus I gazed out at the landscape listening to this record and I had one of those perfect moments in life where you feel blessed to be alive. Cheers Bono. Cheers Edge. Cheers Adam. Cheers Larry.
Are U2 the most caveated band of all time? Even people who say they like ‘em often seem compelled to offer something negative about Bono or use the word “anthemic” as a pejorative as if there is something innately embarrassing about admitting you ever really liked ‘em. Christ, heaven forfend! Like viewing a high school year-book photograph of an acne covered face framed by a terrible haircut and grimacing in embarrassment that you ever looked so goddamn retarded. Part of this reaction is a natural consequence of longevity I guess, when a band naturally moves past their imperial phase and enters the wonky, middle age phase where they increasingly resemble an ersatz tribute band to themselves. Happens to the best of 'em folks. Of course with U2 their enormous success and late 80s ubiquity offers something easy to kick against (completely understandable) but also, admittedly, their naffer moments do too. Like when Bono said he was stealing something back for the Beatles or when he had a mullet that could shame an Australian. Moments people. Being a U2 fan, however, you accept this is all part of the package and you acknowledge some of the criticisms have truth to them but like a flawed human being you’re exceptionally found of you love ‘em anyway because at their best they made some wonderful music and Bono is a great rock n roll star with a magnificent voice who sang on records like this.
“I’ll show you a place, high on a desert plain…”
This for me is their absolute peak, the moment where everything great and special about the band coalesced into a transcendent whole in a way that is undeniable. This is the quintessence of U2 and I use that word deliberately because of its celestial associations; for there is something about the bands best work (see also The Unforgettable Fire, Gloria, I Still Haven’t…) that possess a certain religiosity, a depth of feeling and spiritual yearning that separates it from the vast majority of the music that was made around the same time. It’s this quality in Bono’s voice and lyrics, a slightly gauche Celtic romanticism and innocence combined with a desire for communal transcendence that is simultaneously their greatest strength and their achilles heal for naysayers. It’s why they broke America in such a huge way imo because the old-world cynicism, fatigue and (God help us all) irony in this part of the world had not infected the heartlands of that great country and Americans instinctively understood and reacted to the band’s passion and soul accordingly. It’s why I suspect, on some level, there has always been a snootiness and dismissive reaction in some quarters over here because they tap into something that is deemed passé and embarrassing somehow. Regardless they still sold shitloads everywhere because in the arid desert of 80s rock, dominated by hair metal and MTV, they offered something really quite different. That is not to say they didn’t have obvious musical influences but the place where the music and lyrics came from tapped into a metaphysical world quite, quite different from their peers.
It starts appropriately then which a synth that sounds like a church organ courtesy of Brian Eno. One of those lovely little ambient touches that Eno seemed to pull out his arse back then and you sense not just a sacred, hymnal quality to the music but an expectation (and hope) that something very big is about to happen. Fittingly then there is a tangible sense of space and time, of freedom and possibilities, of a place beyond the material world where the intimate and the vast combine into some mystical whole, captured perfectly when Edge, Larry and Adam climax during a moment (1.17) that really does feel like watching the sun rise over a scorched, desert plateau. I mean, you can feel that, right? Yeah? Bono senses the glory of it all and not only does he sing the living fuck out of it, his lyrics manage to combine a moving, old world Biblical imagery with a defiant, Born To Run romanticism that, and I can’t lie here, has made me shed a tear on more than one occasion. Listening to it now for the thousandth time all the tired brickbats hurled at U2 dissolve into the dusty ether as the band move effortlessly through the gears, endlessly pushing the song to a higher and higher (desert) plain in a way that is really quite magnificent. Anthemic? Fuck yeah. Transcendent? Of course! And just when you think they can’t get any higher they switch it up again at 4.13 before ending, appropriately with all those gorgeous, delayed, guitar arpeggio’s that let us know we’ve finally arrived at That Place.
Personal memory: I only fully grasped just how evocative this record was btw on the way back from a day trip to the Grand Canyon when, munching a large back of Cheetos, and at the back of the bus I gazed out at the landscape listening to this record and I had one of those perfect moments in life where you feel blessed to be alive. Cheers Bono. Cheers Edge. Cheers Adam. Cheers Larry.