Tag: U2

  • Yesterday’s Music

    I learn something about myself every time the Grammy’s are on. Mostly I learn that I’m out of touch with popular music. The kind of music I listen to doesn’t make the cut most of the time. You’d be hard pressed to find a lot of Americana or alternative on the live show nowadays. The fact that they sprinkled in a little rock and roll was something to delight in. Modern music is never really for the parents of the audience the music is targeting. How can a kid break away from their parents if they’re listening to the same music?

    The thing is, music is never truly original anymore. It’s all derived from something that came before. Sometimes it’s a riff or bass line borrowed from a classic, sometimes it’s a cover song that shakes up a new audience, like Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” as sung by old soul Luke Combs. Some of us were around for the original’s debut. Looking back at the music from that time (1988-1989) is a time warp for me, just as it will be for someone listening to Dua Lipa’s music of today in 35 years will be for them. Music is timeless, even if we aren’t. Cover songs and sampling are clear evidence of this.

    You got a fast car
    Is it fast enough so we can fly away?
    We gotta make a decision
    Leave tonight or live and die this way
    — Tracy Chapman, Fast Car

    When “Fast Car” came out I was still swept up in The Joshua Tree, which had come out a year before, and I didn’t embrace it at the time. The lyrics depressed me then—she sounded trapped and I didn’t want to be trapped. I was looking for anthems to inspire and lift me out of the trap. Yet the sentiment was the same for a restless spirit trying to figure out what the hell to do with himself when adulthood knocked on the door. Chapman and U2 were singing the same message to me, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

    I have run
    I have crawled
    I have scaled these city walls
    These city walls
    Only to be with you
    But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
    — U2, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

    Fast forward a few decades and I still watch the Grammy’s, if only to reflect on yesterday’s music and to see what all the fuss is about in today’s pop music. The themes are the same, only the faces change. We’re all just trying to figure it out as we move through our time. The trap has always been within, no matter the age. We can leave tonight or live and die this way. What exactly are we looking for anyway?

  • Moving Forward

    A long time
    It’s taken me
    But I’ve figured out
    Now to some degree
    This life
    It happens fast
    I’ll enjoy the time in this hour glass
    Yes I will will will oh yes I will
    
Yeah, I’ve looked
    And what I see
    It’s not what’ve been
    It’s whatcha gonna be
    ‘Cause this world
    We’re walking through
    It’ll dig you out
    Or will bury you

    — Layup, I’m Alive

    The other day my bride and I went out to a local place for dinner and conversation. We secured two seats at the bar right away and celebrated our small victory with cocktails. The gent at the barstool next to me was talkative and we began chatting about the menu and local restaurants and eventually got down to the truth of the matter. He was divorced and alone on a Friday night and missing his wife and kids. He was filling holes in his life wherever he could, but not the biggest hole in his life. Not yet friend, but keep moving forward: This too shall pass.

    Bono and U2 wrote a song about his friend Michael Hutchence from INXS after the latter’s suicide. Hutchence seemed to have it all, but spiraled into a place where he killed himself despite fame, fortune, good looks and good friends. As Bono observed,

    You’ve got yourself stuck in a moment
    And you can’t get out of it

    The whole point of being alive is to grow and to keep reaching for our potential. There will be plenty of setbacks and hurdles along the way that make it all feel meaningless and futile. It’s all part of the climb. Our story in the end is not who we were, but who we become despite it all. The trick is to keep moving forward to that someone better. It’s usually closer than we believe in the moment.

    Moving forward doesn’t mean forgetting the lessons of the past. For those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it, as George Santayana stated so well. We are the sum of all of our parts; the good, the bad and the ugly. It takes time to find all three within us, and to push aside the aspects of our identity we don’t want to dance with anymore. The thing is, when we take that weight off our shoulders we become lighter on our feet, more nimble, and in turn, more alive.

  • The Beauty of Our Discoveries

    “I hadn’t done drugs since sniffing Lady Esquire shoe polish when I was fifteen. I didn’t need to. I felt the pinch of wonder. I felt everything sharply, the people we met, the sensation of being in a body, of eating and drinking. I knew there was darkness in the world, but I was sure it would not overpower us; rather, we would let ourselves be overpowered by the beauty of our discoveries as we traveled through this world.” — Bono, Surrender

    A lovely expression, this pinch of wonder, and something I wish we all shared. Too many seek distraction and escape over wonder, but let that not be us. When we lean into the life of an explorer, every encounter becomes an opportunity for illumination. Understanding of the world and our place in it can be a slow dawn for those of us not living the rock star lifestyle, but life doesn’t have to come at us in bold strokes for us to find the color. We simply have to be open to it.

    A friend texted over the weekend, thrilled with the travel they’ve witnessed through my photographs, and wanting more. I confess to wanting more myself, even as I look around at the work to be done right at home. We never really finish building a nest, we just fly further and further from it in our quest to see what all the fuss is about. Not being a wealthy rock star, time and money remain considerations for strategic trips abroad. We simply can’t do everything, and really, why would we want to? Life isn’t about chasing the illusive, it’s about building something tangible: understanding, purpose, momentum… beautiful.

    What washes over us when we encounter such things as beauty and magic? Do these encounters feed the fire for more exploration, or do they finally offer satisfaction? Are we ever really satiated? As if enough beauty and magic could exist in a world such as this? I believe we find something in ourselves that was aching to reach the surface in such moments, something beyond our present selves, something drawn from us as we’re pulled towards that which we seek. Magnetic momentum, if you will, pulling us from our shell into the world.

    Bono uses his fame to build a better world, framed with understanding and empathy. It’s a noble pursuit enabled by the thrill people feel to be around someone larger than life. We might do the same, perhaps not to the same scale, but with the same zeal. We might each be ambassadors, not judges. We might be builders creating something better with each encounter. In a way, that’s a rock star way of looking at life: amplified and actively strumming, making our soundtrack. The beauty of our discoveries arranged into a life well-lived.

  • Putting It All Out There

    “If today’s social media has taught us anything about ourselves as a species, it is that the human impulse to share overwhelms the human impulse for privacy.” ― Kevin Kelly, The Inevitable: Understanding the 12 Technological Forces That Will Shape Our Future

    But all the promises we make
    From the cradle to the grave
    When all I want is you
    — U2, All I Want Is You

    They say that sharing is caring, but the twist is that the share is what we care about at all. Life is change, how we process that within ourselves is ours alone… until we share it. So much of what we think and feel becomes part of the collective with a click. What happens after the click is out of our control, but something is released from us anyway. We’ve put ourselves out there in a declaration of the moment and try to move on to the next.

    The reader is in a time machine, picking up where we left off and processing our unique stack of words into thought. Sometimes a comment coming back to me after something I’ve published throws me for a loop, and I need to re-read what I wrote to see who I was at the time. We’re each on our path to becoming, and who I’ve become after clicking publish is somewhat different than the person I was before.

    That timestamp of the moment isn’t trivial, for it’s a brief glimpse into our fragile lifetime. As the years go by, so do the moments. Is sharing a grasp for the elusive amber? We can’t be forever locked in any moment but through the media that carries on after us. Still, there’s a big difference between a journal and a blog post, isn’t there? Should there be?

    What compels us to share anything of ourselves at all? Do we need to clear space for our new identity? Are we leaving breadcrumbs for others who might be inclined to follow? Perhaps the very act of sharing of ourselves is integral to becoming whatever it is we’re moving towards. Each of us have our reasons—our why— for sharing that run beyond ourselves. This why is the puzzle in everything shared, to be discovered by others.

  • Something Meaningful

    Every day I die again, and again I’m reborn
    Every day I have to find the courage
    To walk out into the street
    With arms out
    Got a love you can’t defeat
    Neither down nor out
    There’s nothing you have that I need
    I can breathe
    Breathe now

    — U2, Breathe

    When you settle into a conversation about the best U2 songs, well, it’s best to have a comfortable chair and a full beverage to weigh the choices against. For me, the choices alternate based on my mood at the time, but top 3 includes Breathe and The Unforgettable Fire, and we can endlessly debate the order and the third from there. One could make a case that the album that Breathe came from (No Line on the Horizon) is their best album as well, but I write this knowing it’s a sure way to rise the passions of the fanbase. I’ve been known to shift favorite album based on my mood at the moment. The blessing of U2 is having such a rich catalog that it’s even worth discussing.

    Every day we are reborn, with an opportunity to make something of our time before the lights go out once again. The analogy of a lifetime in a day is nothing new, yet the lesson escapes us now and then. We woke up yesterday, we woke up today, and we expect to wake up tomorrow too. The trick is to do something meaningful with this stack of days, and accumulate our own catalog of mastery in our lifetime.

    What’s your soundtrack for doing bigger things? Play it loud. Sing your heart out.

  • To Let It Go

    If I could through myself
    Set your spirit free, I’d lead your heart away
    See you break, break away
    Into the light
    And to the day
    — U2, Bad

    When you think about the trajectory of U2 prior to the ubiquitous madness of Joshua Tree, it was Bad that became the song the crowd took possession of. The band carries it, always, but it soars with the collective energy of the crowd. It was the performance that everyone was talking about during Live Aid (at least until Queen took the stage). U2 grabs moments in that way, elevating a simple song about heroin addiction into so much more.

    This desperation
    Dislocation
    Separation, condemnation
    Revelation in temptation
    Isolation, desolation
    Let it go

    Each person who hears the call in Bad feels themselves in it. We never dabbled in drug addiction but we have our own demons. Listen to it now, with the perspective of a global pandemic and yet another war and the collective addiction of social media and its demand to pick sides. Listen to it now having lost something of yourself. Listen to it having seen parts of yourself slip away. It takes on a meaning it didn’t have in simpler times.

    Even with—especially with—this bruised and battered lens of 2022, the call is the same: To wake up and find hope somewhere above the darkness in the world. Above the darkness in ourselves. To let it go and set your spirit free. It remains a timeless call waiting to be heard.

  • A Sparkplug for the Brain in Five Songs

    If someday my mind succumbs to the debilitating fog of dementia that robs my father and so many others of their familiarity and wit, put noise-cancelling headphones over my ears, turn up the volume and play the electric guitar anthems of my youth. I don’t know nearly enough about reversing the downward slide of dementia, but I do know that music seems to help. My Dad might not remember my name, but he knows the words to his favorite country music. There’s magic in music, and it seems to remain a gift for us to the end of our days.

    I don’t know what my own future will bring, but I eat my blueberries and leafy greens and stay hydrated in hopes of keeping the pipes clean. They say a heart-healthy diet and a brain-healthy diet are the same, which seems to offer a clear path for proactive nutrition. But we never know, do we?

    I do know that nothing drew me out of my awkward teenage shell like the guitar work of the late 1970’s and early 1980’s rock music. And, just maybe, that might work again should I someday need a sparkplug for the brain. May it never be needed but as a nice throwback jolt of energy and a reminder of a time when my dad knew my name and would yell it to have me turn down the music:

    Surrender – Cheap Trick
    I can still remember listening to this song in a friend’s basement, along with, funny enough, his Kiss records.

    Unchained – Van Halen
    This performance is big, brash Van Halen at their raunchiest, and rocking the house.

    Rock You Like a Hurricane – The Scorpions
    German rock and roll that must be turned up extra loud.

    Roll With The Changes – REO Speedwagon
    One of those songs you can’t help but turn up and speed up to.

    Gloria – U2
    The band, and the performance, that stirred my Celtic soul and changed my perspective on music forever. U2 became and remains to this day my virtual house band.

  • More Than Just Names

    Sleeping beauty awakes from her dream
    With her lover’s kiss on her lips
    Your kiss was taken from me
    Now all I have is this
    – Bruce Springsteen, Countin’ On A Miracle

    Twenty years. I’m still here, just as I was that day, but everything has changed. What seemed important on the morning of September 11, 2001 disappeared from my mind when I heard Howard Stern, of all people, explaining what was happening at that moment in New York as I drove to a job that would be impossible to focus on for a long time afterwards.

    The world has changed since 9/11. We’ve all grown hardened by violence and war and angry rhetoric. It was our generation’s Pearl Harbor, and we were ready to lash out at all who would assault us so boldly. In so many ways we’re still lashing out, but much of it has turned inward. That unified country in the days after 9/11 is far from it now.

    We all felt the impact of that day, but nobody felt it more than the families and friends of those who died that day. Bruce Springsteen wrote the album The Rising shortly after 9/11. The lyrics quoted above resonate more for me than any other, representing all that was taken from so many that day. And it plays in my head now, twenty years after that day. As the bells ring in remembrance. And the names, so many names, are spoken one after another.

    During the Super Bowl in 2002, just months after 9/11, U2 performed as the halftime show. They sang MLK and Where The Streets Have No Name with a white banner scrolling the names of those lost on 9/11. I still can’t watch it without getting choked up, and I dismiss anyone who might venture to declare any other performance at a Super Bowl as more powerful or significant.

    These songs will always be my 9/11 soundtrack. They remind us that these were more than just names. They are lives interrupted.

  • Follow the Trail and Scatter Light

    Man dreams one day to fly
    A man takes a rocket ship into the sky
    He lives on a star that’s dying in the night
    And follows in the trail, the scatter of light
    – U2, In A Little While

    There are moments in an album or a book or an evening when you recognize the magic. Emotion wells up in you, stirring and amplifying feelings, sending you to another place. A higher place, maybe, or a darker place should the moment direct you that way. I keep climbing to higher places, hoping the view is better. Hoping I’ll become better in the process. And some of it ends up here in this blog.

    U2 hit me a few times over with All That You Can’t Leave Behind. Opening with the hit, dropping in a mournful homage to Michael Hutchence and then the heart pounding Elevation. This was the U2 I’d missed in their experimental days of the late 90’s. These were songs that stuck with you. Ear worms if you will. And then they hit you with Walk On, which grabbed me by the throat waiting for a flight from LA to Boston. When Bono starts singing “Home, hard to know where it is if you’ve never had one” while sleepily waiting for a red eye flight home… well, I’ll never hear the song the same again.

    For all that, the second half of the album is admittedly weaker. And for me, In A Little While became the unconscious end. For it was this song that got that emotion welling, that stirred and amplified those feelings. When Bono sings “Slow down my bleeding heart” I’m right with him, and I know it hit others the same way. That’s the power of a moment.

    Bono stated at one of the concerts U2 recorded that Joey Ramone’s family told him In A Little While was the song that he listened to in hospice, which changed the song for Bono, the guy who wrote it, from a hung over dolt going home at the end of the night to something bigger. Something more meaningful. I never heard the song as anything but soul-stirring, which just goes to show, art might begin with the artist, but it becomes whatever the audience wants it to be.

    I think about that as I write. About reaching moments of emotional connection in my writing. About crafting something of depth and substance, something that amplifies that nugget of desire or fear or love in your soul. Surely I’m a work in progress, but still climbing. Following the trail and scattering light. Still dreaming of flying.

  • The Path of Further Understanding

    “If you think it is ever warranted to stop on the path of further understanding, you are very far from the truth. The life which we received was given to us not that we might just admire it, but that we should ever look for new truth hidden from us.” – Leo Tolstoy, quoting John Milton

    I thought I was pretty clever stacking up my list of quotes and observations about the ocean, at the ready for a sailing trip northward in the Gulf of Maine. But plans change, as I wrote yesterday. And sailing will have to wait for another year and another boat. Other forces are at play now. So today I return to introspection on my own path to understanding. This year is full of moments of clarity, but also searing injustices that are difficult to understand. We do what we can to discover the truth hidden from us.

    “Well the heart that hurts
    Is a heart that beats
    Can you hear the drummer slowing
    One step closer to knowing…”
    – U2, One Step Closer

    U2 writes big arena songs that lift people up out of their seats in unison. And I love rising out of my seat with the rest of the arena. But for me, their songs of quiet reflection often left off the set list stick with me long after the adrenaline of the big songs wears off. One Step Closer is one of those songs, and I found the lyrics running through my head when I woke up this morning. Losing a loved one shakes distractions away abruptly, even when expected. And serve as reminders that we’re all one step closer to knowing stir such remembered words from the cobwebs of the mind. The truth is always waiting for us to find it.

    Is there a bigger cliche than “We’re all on this journey together”? I’m guilty of using it several times in this blog. And yet it rings true. Those who came before us offer the accumulated wisdom of their lifetimes to light the path. Our own accumulated wisdom adds familiarity and confidence that we might know the way. But none of us know where the path leads us beyond the next step. We can only walk the path as countless souls have before us and be fully present on the way. It helps to remember that we don’t walk it alone.