As I get older, I realize how little fun I have in aging. The joints creak, muscles ache, ears clog, eyes dim. As the Rolling Stones testified during halftime, it's not always pretty either. (As an aside, I'm sick of hearing "wow, for 63 year olds, they sure do move well," as if seeing 63 yr olds wearing butt tight pants and prancing around is completely normal and ok.)I've always feared that U2 would end up turning into the Rolling Stones, AKA another band turning the grindstone to sate the gluttony of shareholders and buying golden toilets. Lately, I feel like they swallow up market share just for kicks, just because they're in a position to do so without having to earn it with superior product. I still enjoyed going to the show back in the summer, but I'm through paying $100 to see them, unless I'm close enough for Bono to drip on me. The last few albums? Ok, but not great. The songwriting will never match the eloquence that Bono musters in his prepared remarks at Harvard commencements or DATA presentations or National Prayer Breakfasts or Barbara Walters interviews, and the music suffers because of it. If he cares about all of this Third World debt and AIDS stuff, why didn't it ever show up in the music? You're still a musician, an artist seeking expression, aren't you Mr. Hewson?
And the thing is, they've become so successful that it doesn't matter what anybody thinks of their work critically anymore. Their fanbase covers every continent, every major city, and the back catalog of brilliant stuff (headed by the pantheonic Joshua Tree and Achtung Baby) distills the inevitable slide into mediocrity and insures that they'll always have fans long after they're gone. The songs have become authenticators of cool (iPod commercials), even if what they're selling has nothing to do with whatever artistic statement they try to make ("CSI: Crime Scene Investigators?").It makes me wonder, why do I bother with keeping up with these guys? I've had to make a lot of room in the mansion of my musical universe since I stayed up in bed with Achtung blaring in my Walkman. I gave the upstairs rooms to Radiohead, the Dave Matthews Band, and the Velvet Underground. Interpol is staying in the downstairs rooms, along with Sufjan Stevens, Stellastarr*, Broken Social Scene, and the New Pornographers. Portishead, Wolf Parade, and Bloc Party are the rooms above the garage, and Feist, Fiona Apple, and Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan are in the guest rooms, for the time being, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. So, with the premium on space, should I kick U2 to the curb? Tell 'em to rent somewhere else?
And then Bono restores faith again in why I liked them so much to begin with, which is that they're a great band that makes great music but also cares about the Important Things. Whatever I may think of the music, reading his address at the National Prayer Breakfast reminds me that I still admire what he tries to do. The music might not be as great anymore, or you might hate the guy, but the message is important, and I'm glad that he's talking about it, because if he didn't, self-absorbed cretins like me would skim over it in favor of thinking up another iPod playlist or if I should ask that girl who pours my coffee... out to coffee. He makes me think of things outside of myself, which is good, because I get bogged down by my own selfishness and mediocrity way too often, when I promised that I'd try not to. So. Thanks Bono.
Now, for goodness sake, go work on some lyrics."A number of years ago, I met a wise man who changed my life. In
countless ways, large and small, I was always seeking the Lord's blessing.
I was saying, you know, I have a new song, look after it... I have a family,
please look after them... I have this crazy idea...
And this wise man said: stop.
He said, stop asking God to bless what you're doing.
Get involved in what God is doing—because it's already blessed."--Bono, Feb. 2, 2006
