If I'm a sucker for anything besides rock and roll, it's got to be deprecatory comedy writing. And I agree with most if not all of this piece even though I remain a hardcore fan of pre-Achtung U2 and Bono, who is probably one of the nicest multi-millionaires out there, albeit not the sharpest crayon in the box. Excerpt:
The wordless, wailing refrain of "With or Without You" still sends shivers down your spine, but Bono is lucky he's such a nice guy and he's even luckier that he makes such an enigmatic frontman because he's one of the sloppiest, wackiest lyricists in the game. Because the tunes are so indebted to that most cliché-ridden of genres (the blues), because his range is truly impressive, and because nobody can mic impassioned, British Isle hollering quite like Eno (just ask David Bowie), Bono gets away with a lot that a lesser man would not. The tropes are inoffensive, since even Dylan rhymes "fire" and "desire," and the clichés are forgivable, since rain and tears are pretty similar, I guess (though he does sing about rain an awful lot for a record that's named after a desert), but two decades on, can someone finally acknowledge how dumb these similes are? The guy clearly never met a mixed metaphor he didn't like: How exactly can "stinging rain" drive nails into "souls on a tree of pain," and since when do bullets "rape the night," even figuratively? Every now and then, though, Bono drops a gem: Has romantic anxiety ever been captured more accurately and succinctly than in the refrain, "I can't live with or without you"?
As for his politics, Bono is often accused of being sanctimonious, but on Joshua Tree he actually sounds detached. There's the blossoming of Bono's liberal outrage in "Bullet the Blue Sky" and "Mothers of the Disappeared," which were inspired by a trip to South America but which are so mired in hammy imagery and Jim Morrison-posturing ("So how does it feel to see the sky ripped open?/To see the rain through a gaping wound/Pelting the women and children/Who run into the arms of America?") that he completely misses the polemical power of addressing actual pain in actual countries with actual people. It's not a criticism you can level at, say, "Sunday Bloody Sunday."
Still, there's something charming, even refreshing, about the way Bono's lyrics try so hard. It's difficult to remember, but there was a time when Europeans didn't hate America (de Toqueville! The Statue of Liberty!), and aside from the sorta-enraged "Bullet the Blue Sky" and "Mothers of the Disappeared," Bono sounds legitimately in awe of our nation's people and topography; depending on where you look, it sure can feel like "God's country." Beautiful sights will bring out the cornball in most anyone, and Bono's earnestness is perfectly supported by Eno's extraordinary production work; rarely has a work of art been so majestic and yet so stupid.
The truth is that Newlin is right about the opening song of the album, "Where the streets have no name" being an awesome feat of rock producing and possibly one of the greatest songs of all time. I mean, the first time I heard it I was blown away, and I suppose at that moment became unconsciously ready to forgive Bono and crew of every cliché and overwrought political commentary on the rest of the album.
As far as politics goes, Bono has never been far left like a lot of recording artists. His criticisms of America have always been couched in terms of the United States not living up to her own high standards and don't bear much resemblance to the patchouli-drenched boomers marching around Berkeley every full moon chanting "America is evil and must be destroyed!" At least from the criticisms I've heard, his views are somewhere to Bruce Springsteen's right. He even met with Bush, a meeting from which a slightly awkward photo exists. Let's just say it was not an "Elvis-meets-Nixon" moment.Later on I guess I was less ready to forgive U2 for Achtung Baby which I never got, though I tried with all my might. I know that I'm in the minority among U2 fans for this opinion. I guess lines like "Well you lied to me 'cause I asked you to / Baby, can we still be friends?" made me want to hear about bullets, fighter planes, $100 bills and third world people living in mud huts again.
