Monday, November 14, 2005

the sound system sucked. bono's voice sounded almost like a chipmunk, and the bass was way prominent in the mix. and what gives with people who i know spent at least as much as i did on tix who can't stand, or dance, in one place but must always be on the move, bumping into me constantly and knocking me out of my rock-and-roll reverie? admission to see u2 was not on the cheap side, so i say to those who can't chill and enjoy the show for the duration of two or three hrs, stay the fuck out of my way. sheesh!

i've no idea if the band was at the top of their form, or was having an off-night. they are so good, so tight, and they have been around for 25 years that they kicked ass. i'm not the biggest u2 fan, but i knew all but five songs on the set list that night. when the edge played the familiar opening chords of 'i will follow' the song was so old, so familiar, yet so strident in its energy that i nearly started to pogo. too bad they are a supergroup, i couldn't get near the stage, otherwise i'd have done a stage dive.

in spite of sounding like a chipmunk bono was in fine form. he possesses a gorgeous, passionate, voice. when he sang 'gloria' i got goosebumps from it. the edge might just be one of the best guitarists alive. i compare his fretwork with jimi hendrix. i can't qualify that at all, i can just say both are masters. the edge's guitar is one of discipline and control, tight-knit, straight on the notes. but when he cranks the distortion, the sound is articulated chaos. i've always loved loud, messy guitars, but to hear the edge play live the noise transforms into motion. i can't dance at all, but my body moved and again i had an near-irrestible urge to pogo.

it was a perfect night. my bro and i had a great time. we got home at 1:30 am. i was still so wired that i read steve caratzas's wonderful chap the incredulity tour, and the selected letters of james schuyler, which i began on the train to the east bay earlier in the day, till 2:30 am. i felt like one of george romero's zombies the next day at work. i managed not to eat anybody, but i was famished, and absolutely exhausted, when i got home. the good kind of exhaustion, where you stretch out in bed, with yr beloved beside you, and feel yrself unclench, and plummet into deep, deep sleep.


At 2:33 PM, Blogger AlexG said...

great review Richard.

& I share yr disdain abt people who must ambulate thru a concert. the other nite I was next to a head-wobbler at the Charles Lloyd Trio & even that kind of movement was so distracting to me I had to close my peeps.


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