Songs of Experience, the Journey. Part 3 (tracks 3-5)

I gotta say, the lyrics on this album are SO FREAKIN incredible. It's almost as if they have been sitting on all of this beauty for a long time and graced the world with it. And, to think that U2 went back into the tank after the Trump/election debacle. Makes me kinda wonder and pine for those forgotten gems that were scrapped. I think I speak for most of U2 nation when I say, bring on "Songs of Ascent"?! Maybe, just maybe they will figure out tickets by then.

3. The best thing about me. Another catchy little number that you will occasionally hear on the radio. This song kind of just latches onto you, whether you want it to or not. Its definitely a lower half song on this album for me, and yet I find myself humming it, seemingly out of nowhere. I envision the entirety of the crowd screaming the chorus to this one right back to the band "You're the best thing about me!" and, it will ring true for many of us. I've been alternating listens between SOI and SOE the past few days, and as much as I love the former, it just isn't on this albums level musically or lyrically. Now, many of those songs gave birth to these, but wow. So many subtle and not so subtle quirks that make these pop.

4. Get out of your own way. Buckle up folks, cause shit just got real. This song is phenomenal. One of the most vibrant and crazy choruses in a long, long time. And Adam's bass line? Get the hell out of here. When the boys ratchet up the action and we hear the chorus for the first time, on the heels of Larry's pounding, I get chills and then euphoria washes its way over. I love, love, love this tune. I'm in serious danger of having anyone near me on the road witnessing me screaming this one at same time doing my best to mimic Larry on the steering wheel. And, just when you're coming down a tad, here's the Edge doing what he does best. His guitar solos are simply divine perfection. Not over the top, in your face, ala 80's or 90's hard rock or metal, but rather melodic thunderstorms that come out of nowhere and douse you with a torrential release. "I could sing it to you all night, all night...." Please do U2!

5. American Soul. I'm gonna steal from the very astute Tim Neufeld(@timneufeld) and say that the transition from GOOYOW into this song is simply amazing. One of the best they've ever done. When Kendrick is saying his piece and then you hear that thunderous boom of guitar and drum, echoing in your ears, mind and soul, it's as if your vibe changes. Kind of like eating some high brow meal where the chef has combined textures for you. GOOYOW provided the togetherness, the sweet and sappy, and this is the kick to your gut, the groove. You and I are rock and roll. This one will be the "Vertigo" moment, the crowd all dancing in unison and singing right along with the band. American soul is an example of SOI giving birth to a better and advanced version of itself.

A little teaser for the next installment. Track 6 is where this album takes flight. And, where any and all statements of "best since AB" start to take root. Till then....You, I and Refu-Jesus!

U2 Songs of Experience Part 2, The Journey (tracks 1 and 2)

As crazy as it sounds, I didn't want to love this album. Sounds crazy, I know. But, for reasons laid out in part 1(see what I did there? Now, you new visitors just HAVE to check out that one as well), I entered into this particular listening experience with cold feet and a jaded heart. I knew that I'd like it. It's U freaking 2. The wind in my sails, the spring that feeds my soul. But, I was determined to most certainly, NOT love it. I expected a few catchy tunes mixed in with some other non-descript ones and that over time, ala No line on the horizon, I'd find the connection. I'd latch onto some certain aspect and much like a foster parent, slowly adopt the child into my world. I had read the reviews. I tip-toed through the multitude of "kool-aid drinking" U2 fans proclaiming this to be the bands modern day equivalent to Achtung Baby. I heard the tunes that had been sampled or leaked prior to release. I did not go out of my way to find a stream of the whole thing. And, then late on that Friday, I pressed play. My very first thought. My very first and embarrassing thought was, "This album doesn't even begin until track 6." That was a bad first thought. Because, then I listened again. And again, and again. Like Kurt Russell in the miracle, playing the late and great Herb Brooks, who kept uttering the same word over and over....again. Again. Not that it took all those listens, mind you. Absolutely not. I just have a policy of listening more than a few times before making rash statements. And I felt and still feel that its a bit knee-jerk to listen, and then run to twitter proclaiming that this is the best since this or that. Folks, this is a masterpiece. A true religious experience. Let me tell you what else this is. SOE is better than SOI. I will never force my opinions on you or say that I'm right and you are wrong, but, in this case, I just might. SOI is WAY more intimate and personal, but this is the sermon. This is the fiery explosion that happens on the horizon after SOI lights the fuse. Better than Achtung? No. Cant and wont go there. Best since? Yes. SOE, like the meteoric star that it is, rocketed right by No Line, ATYCLB, SOI, Zooropa, Pop, and yes, even Atomic Bomb, which I have higher on my list than most.

The first track, Love is all we have left. Wow. That first listen? Throw away track. Why is it not longer? Now, this thing gives me chills. It's tear inducing. Simply gorgeous. Bono is like a sage. His crystal clear and pure vocals wash over you like a warm and enchanting fall breeze. You have just dug out the sweatshirts and go outside for the first time, and the warmth of the day has given way to evenings chill... this song is that feeling. I cant tell you how "In love" I am with the lyrics. I feel like I could easily go get a tattoo tonight of just about any of them. "I wanted the world, but you knew better." "Nothing to stop this from being the best day ever" Wow, wow, wow. "All we have is immortality" In this fucked up world folks, Love is all we have left. This may not be my fave track on the release, but it gets me every time. Goosebumps. "This is no time not to be alive" Aint that the fucking truth. We are all alive to hear this masterpiece.

Track 2. Lights of Home. Catchy little ditty that makes you tap your toes and nod the head up and down. Should be a live crowd favorite. Probably in my lower half if I were to rank the songs 1-13. But still love it. Adam's bass is so funky in the back and the Edge is well, the Edge. When his solo comes, you just sort of melt. It's not in your face heavy, but it's almost hypnotic. You were already swaying back and forth, singing the lyrics and then that solo comes on and before you know it, you're on a couch and a shiny gold pendulum on a necklace is swinging in front of you, and you're in another time, another place.

Songs Of Experience. The journey. Part 1

It's been a bit of a chaotic whirlwind within the U2 universe. I had gotten kind of used to the routine of Album, tour leg one, banter about the tour, another leg or two and then a few years of just listening to the music. Pining for the next one. Well, something got into the lads this past year. Not sure if its a case of them plotting how they want this crazy life to transition and/or end? I sincerely hope not. Or, if they've all just found the proverbial second wind and are ready to redefine who and what they are. This is what I hope for. U2 doesn't just quietly release albums. No, they do so with, shall we say, flair? A dizzying assault on the senses, ala Vertigo with Apple. Who will ever let the band or any fan of the band EVER forget or live down the Songs of Innocence debacle? A zillion I-tunes users woke up one morning with a fresh copy on their device, free of charge. Oops. Welcome to 2017. The prior tour promoting the very intimate and personal Innocence was by all accounts extremely successful. An arena tour complete with what else? New and cutting edge technology and U2 parading all sorts of goodies for the U2 family and fans to take in. I'll never forget watching and listening to this tour from the comfort of my lounge chair, head and ears buried into a periscope feed of a live U2 show. Incredible. We were all on the edge of our seats, waiting for the much ballyhooed and speculated about companion to Innocence. Be it accent, or what it ultimately became, experience, we clamored for it. Innocence was personal. It was a private look into the roots, into Larry Mullen's kitchen, into Bono's childhood. We cried with the band. We loved them even more. But. But, U2 has always been about innovation, about tomorrow, about what's next. Let's have the future. Rumors, hints and innuendo's from the band, from those associated with the band, all led us to feel it was close. Experience was going to be the band staking their claim on what was going to be the second half of a legendary and iconic career. WHICH, was the perfect time to do a tour celebrating the 1987 release of Joshua Tree. Uh, ok? No one outwardly complained. I mean, this was Joshua Tree, this WAS U2. But, read my prior blog about that tour and some of the talk coming from corners, pondering on maybe the band, always championing the notion of never ever living in the past, had finally run out of magic. That U2 was on the doorstep of many nostalgia tours. Staying on topic, lets just say the tour was amazing and then it ended. I, for one assumed that it would be awhile now for Songs of Experience. The band had a convenient excuse. They had just come off an emotional tour, Bono's voice was clearly showing strain. Well, this ain't your parent's U2. In the blink of an eye, it was announced that Songs of Experience was indeed coming this year, in December. Singles started to release. They teased a few of them on their Joshua Tree tour. Not nearly enough for my taste, but that's just me being stubborn. Anyway, new album, which meant new tour. Didn't we all JUST get done wrestling with presale codes and Ticketmaster and Livenation? This time around was the all time worst ever. I for one, just didn't have the stomach for it. I won't do it again. No more presales, no more angst over getting up in the morning, multiple browsers open, ONLY to find out that not all tickets are released at the same time. These crooks release them in segments. And, then, if you open up this credit card account, and subscribe to the fan site, or if you walk backwards and chew gum at the same time, then you get into a lottery for the chance to buy a ticket, or something. But, I digress. If I start blogging about how I feel about the tickets and the band allowing such shit to stain their legacy, this will turn far more aggressive than I had set out for. With no time to digest the emotional JT tour, and the absolute clusterfuck that was the ticketing for SOE(oh by the way, this cluster is the cluster that won't stop fucking, it is STILL going on. It seems as if each dawn brings some new presale, almost like a song getting remix after remix), I for one, was jaded on the whole thing. I have lived my life being a U2 apologist. A fanatic times ten. I'll defend Bono to the death. I can be critical of U2, privately, but you better not be. Well, all of a sudden, I was less than enthralled with the U2 world. It was surreal, and I felt a bit guilty. Then the album FINALLY dropped. Smack in the middle of all the ticketing shit and the early reviews comparing it to Achtung Baby. Are you kidding me?? Comparing this album, the first few songs of which were OK, but....Achtung Baby? Child, please. And, jaded I stayed. Yeah U2, I'll get your album and listen to it, I always do, but I'm not thrilled about it.

The album came out on a Friday. Twitter was abuzz with all of the U2 "kool-aid". I read through all of it, shaking my head and digging in even deeper. Convincing myself I was on the verge of just attacking. Let me at my keyboard and I'm about to knock this bird out of the sky. Nothing would ever cause me to waver from my love for the band, but as much as I've argued and fought defending their relevance, I'm a realist. They will never be 80's or early 90's relevant again, will they? I worked all day Friday and hurried home and had my oldest son quickly download it onto my Ipod before we all went out for the night. My earbuds are my best friends. It's really the only and main way to listen to and absorb the purity. That night, I was probably the last one in all my ranks of U2 friends across the world to finally press play. Earbuds in, it was time.

Sneak Peak

Tommy felt good. All the jitters were gone. Regardless of how many times he played and sung, there were always some pre-game nerves. It was more than a bit intoxicating to have gotten over the ones he had dreaded in this perfomance for so long. Hell, he had lost hours of his life the past few months, staying awake at night and worrying about this very moment. Staring out into a sea of faces, strangers faces, but faces that represent a part of his life that he had done nothing but run from. Run from for all of his adult life. Kept repeating over and over in his head, “It's been forever and no one cares, It's been forever and no one cares”. The Usher thing is something he's done many times before, kind of just to let the crowd know that this isn't gonna be just another wannabe country crooner doing an hour set of karaoke. A guy in jeans and a cowboy hat with an acoustic guitar that busts out in “Hey DJ”, usually accomplishes just that. Like a marathon runner, Tommy had gotten to that first checkpoint and he felt good. Really good. He could do this on autopilot, which he never would do, but he knew these songs like the back of his hand. He was very good with a crowd. Not being cocky, but he was a good judge of all the little things. There were so many subtle clues in a crowd, or a group of people, listening to music, and Tommy had become adept at absorbing these clues and using them on the fly. He had initially been surprised at just how open his eyes had become at it. Far from big enough to adhere to a strict set list, except in those rare cases where he did a festival or something that required a submission of the song order. Those he didn't fuck with. But, all the rest? He would write something out, but it was open for quick change. Which he did all the time. Step one was to identify the characters in the audience. Determine who was there for the music. Who was just there for the social atmosphere. Who was there to get bombed. Who was there out of sheer curiosity. That usually took a couple of songs at the most, and then it was easy. It was just a matter of which character group he wanted to pacify or appease with the next song. On nights when he was on, and the shit was just clicking, then it was all groups being pacified at once. The smaller the act, the harder this was to pull off. And, he was certainly small. The really epic shows? Those just flowed like an electrical current. Not much thought, and he was in tune with all the energy being exchanged with the crowd. Epic shows didn't require much if any help from him. If Tommy had to try and shift something from stagnant or from mundane, then epic was out of the question. He had surmised before striking a chord or singing a note that tonight was going to be a workman like gig, give a little, take a little, easy on the banter and just take her out for a spin. After dropping Usher on them and following it with some generic and multi genre crossing modern country tunes on them, Tommy decided to test his luck.

“Hey everyone. Thanks for giving me access to your ears, and hopefully you'll find me and my songs pleasing.” There was a polite round of applause from the room. “I've give you a bit of hip hop, and then a bit of the twang. I mean, I figure if I come out wearing this hat, you all would be disappointed if I didn't sing at least a little bit of the good old country and western, am I right?” Again, the smattering of hands clapping. The crowd, a few drinks in, were warming. “Any Irish in the crowd?” There were a couple of yells back, something along the lines of “hell yeah”, or just a drink induced response. “Good, good, I wasn't gonna do this, but I'm gonna share an Irish folk song with you guys. As long as I've got some Irish blood out there, feel free to helpyour neighbors out with the words.” Now, curiosity had pulled many away from the conversations and the hilarity of a night out with the mates. He didn't smile outwardly, but inside, Tommy was grinning from ear to ear. Ha, St. Louis was his bitch. “This is a Gaelic tune, handed down from generation to generation, a bit of a love song, if you will. I hope you enjoy it, and like I said, you Irish out there, jump on in.” And then, before starting, after somewhat of an awkward pause, which jolted him instantly and with force, he added “The first time I heard this tune, I was a wee lad it was playing in this skating rink back home.” Another awkward pause, and then one more word. “Home?” And with that, Tommy's fingers took over and ever so gently began strumming his strings until the all too familiar sounds were produced. He realized that he may have waded out too far.

Of course Lucy was hinging on every word. Tommy's verbal banter was like water, and she was the one crawling on hands and knees, scorching sand underneath her, as she begged for some kind of an oasis. There was always one off in the distance if you looked hard enough. A shimmering, and almost mythical patch of blue, drawing you in, As soon as the previous song stopped and her one time boy ambled to the mic and started talking, thirst ravaged her. Something about Irish folk song, and blah, blah, blah, Just sing. Sing to me, Tommy. And then, what? Almost as if he was unsure or had forgotten how to start the song, but he definitely seemed at least a bit off, and all of a sudden. And then her tears started. Skating rink. Goosebumps raced up one arm and down the next. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck began to feel as if they were on fire. A lump in her throat and a tingling in all extremities. Past and present were about to be cascaded down upon her and Lucy honestly had no idea of how she might react. She was perched on the outer edge of her booth, the reddish and crackling vinyl underneath now feeling sticky as if her pores were weeping. She tried to scoot as far inside of the booth as possible, huddled down into a ball with hands to face. Some part of her, some deep and private part knew and yet didn't want to know. Tommy tapped the base of his guitar before doing anything with the strings. A silent beat. One that felt as if thunder were going off inside Lucy. A storm of Biblical proportions, rocking her senses to the point where she didn't know exactly where she was. Or was it, where she had been? The room, once a jumbled mess of noises, beer bottles opening and being discarded, voices rising and falling, laughter and the sounds of dining from the next room over, was eerily silent as this stranger to most tapped his acoustic guitar. Lucy sat, shivering, even shaking. And then Tommy struck the first chord, and then another. And, with delicate grace and ever so slowly, moved his mouth towards the microphone and began to sing.

“See the stone set in your eyes, See the thorn twist in your side, I wait for you. Sleight of hand and twist of fate, on a bed of nails she makes me wait. And I wait, without you. With or without you...With or without you. Through the storm, we reach the shore, You gave it all but I want more, and I'm waiting for you”

The crowd had reacted. Tommy was singing with such passion and the restraint he had demonstrated up till that point vanished. He became the song, became the music. His eyes closed, his face bore the mask of a pained and tortured soul. He sang as if he was singing to some unseen and distant memory. The crowd moved with him, the familiar and iconic notes of the U2 classic resonating within the gathered. It wasn't a young crowd, so the song was known. And Tommy was in his own world and with each verse, the internal struggle crept more and more to the forefront. He wasn't just singing some random song etched into a set list. He was crying this song. He was revealing way more than he had set out to. But, the few souls hearing and watching it were entranced. Who the hell was this stranger and what of this unbridled emotion. People were singing along, and for the first time this young evening were swaying and dancing. A chord had been more than struck, it had been delivered a body blow and Tommy was the heavyweight champion, and as the song ran its coarse, singer and fans kept going harder, louder and with more power than had ever been seen by anyone ever at this out of the way and off the radar hole in the wall.

“And you give yourself away, and you give yourself away, and you give, and you give, and you give yourself away. With or without you, with or without you, I cant live, with or without you”

Tommy and the patrons were screaming the part where Bono yells to the heavens. And, at the very crescendo, the plateau where he was taking them, to the fiery, orgasmic end, Tommy took them down again, teasing a peaceful and calm reentry, perhaps even an ending to the song. But he had different ideas. A few of the fans, obvious fans of the uber band, started yelling at Tommy to go just a step further, complete the copulation. And he obliged.

“And we'll shine like stars in the summer night, we'll shine like stars in the winter night, one heart, one hope, one love...”

Old man Bartolino came running. Bands and artists were a constant nearly every weekend. The thunderous applause generated by the fifty or sixty people listening to Tommy was unlike anything he had heard before, and his first instinct was that something dreadful had happened. Upon sprinting into his quaint and cozy little bar, he was surprised to see no uprisings, no fights, just everyone crowded around the stage area and loudly voicing what seemed to be mass approval. So, a good thing. These young folk and their music. Didn't do a damn thing for him, so he turned around and headed back to the important stuff, good Italian gravy and Canoli. As he walked out of the bar, it was impossible not to take note of the lone woman sitting in the very back booth, all by herself with hardly another soul within ten feet of her, they were all gathered up by the stage. He wondered what could be wrong with this fare little thing, to cause her to weep so.