I went to see U2 Wednesday night here in Toronto, momentarily escaping the interview gauntlet at the Intercontinental Hotel. U2 is one of those enduring bands, staying together for decades and consistently putting out great records year after year. They don’t seem to need therapy like Metallica, they don’t seem to hate each other like The Who, and no one has died yet. It’s kind of a rock miracle, because usually fame and money and the music have a shattering power, a ticking time bomb that will either explode your relationships or rocket you into mediocrity.
What impresses me most about the longevity of U2 is their commitment to political causes, Bono’s never ending struggle for equality and humanity. Today there is a kind of political celebrity, where certain artists are known for their activism as well as their talent, but this is somewhat of a modern phenomenon. Bono is truly the prototype for the freedom fighting superstar, adding his voice to where Bob Dylan’s once was. His work for Amnesty International and Greenpeace invited millions of people to try compassion for a change, and this kind of global conscience didn’t really exist before U2.
My favorite songs are from the collaborative period with German angel visionary Wim Wenders. “Faraway So Close” is a melancholy anthem from my awkward years. They didn’t play it Wednesday night, but they played practically everything else. They have an incredibly long list of hit songs, so very familiar they are probably encoded in the DNA of all those born between 1967 and 1987 and beyond. The songs have a déjà vu-ishness to them, a kind of supernatural familiarity, a quality that is unique and startling yet comfortable. The tireless, jangly guitar and Bono’s soaring voice always makes me think that although time may pass, we all remain on the earth together, sharing it, or trying to, and that is a nice thing when the world seems too fast and fleeting and downright lonely.
I stood out by the exit of the stadium, possibly lingering to see the band, but also waiting for my own ride home. I am as starstruck as anyone, but hate to admit it. Bono, wrapped in swaddling clothes and looking like a rock and roll snowman, looked up and seemed to recognize me. He waved and the policeman next to me waved back. It’s a beautiful day.