With U2 ready to drop their eleventh studio album upon the world (No Line on the Horizon), general anticipation is very high. For long-time fans, it represents a new batch of songs from the so-called “biggest rock band in the world.” For naysayers, it gives them an opportunity to see how U2 could stumble even further from greatness. And for all those in between (including myself), it offers the promise of another chance. While U2's popularity has only grown during this decade, the quality of their last two albums are diminished. But the band has suggested that this will be a return to their edgier, more experimental days, so optimism bubbles freely. Yet this is not about No Line on the Horizon (review forthcoming in a few days); this is a look back on the best and worst that this undeniable musical institution has given us.
U2 is big enough that I could have devoted the space solely to the highs and lows of their non-studio recording career (Live Aid, Popmart, ONE Campaign, Rattle and Hum, the how-did-they-do-that music video for “Where the Streets Have No Name,” Band Aid, chronic self-importance, Sarajevo concert, Music Rising, and on and on), but this is about the music. Specifically, the songs that U2 have recorded and released over their thirty-plus year career—and I'll even make it easier and just focus on songs that got radio play, since their albums (even their great ones) often falter over mediocre offerings and filler along the way. Like the Rolling Stones, they've had extreme ups and downs across their long tenure, but no one looks upon them unfavorably no matter how many mistakes they've made. So let's get the bad stuff out of the way.
Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses (1991) : The lone lousy track from Achtung Baby and the band selected it for the fifth and final single of the album. As far as forced similes go, “You left my heart empty as a vacant lot,” is up there on the face-palm scale. It faded pretty quickly, for good reason.
City of Blinding Lights (2004) : This is U2's rewrite of “Where the Streets Have No Name,” but trades fiery sentiment for bloated bombast. Its love letter to NYC isn't new, but the best ones reflect on emotions, senses and memories. Bono's lyrics just romanticize the way it looks. I admit that the music soars, but with so little we can invest in, it rarely gets more than a few feet off the ground.
One Tree Hill (1987) : Same as “Who's Gonna Ride...,” this is the only song on The Joshua Tree that deserves to be skipped whenever the album is spun. How this got a single treatment and masterful cuts like “Bullet the Blue Sky” and "Red Hill Mining Town" didn't boggles the mind. Plus, through no fault of its own, it inspired a mopey-teen television drama. Echh.
Gloria (1981) : With religious textual references, phrases sung in Latin and one of the Edge's least inspired chiming guitar riffs (feels copied from several of their debut album tracks), this one's a forgettable opening to a mostly forgettable album. Even the usually forgiving populace ignored this one but, then again, at this time U2 had no real cultural relevance. At least the bridge is kind of interesting.
Walk On (2000) : Musically, this one's a mess, but I'll concentrate on Bono's blunders. The metaphors never ring true, the message is foggy, and the climax wheezes (“All that you make/All that you build/All that you break/All that you measure...”—what is this, the end of Dark Side of the Moon?). Two years in a row U2 won the Record of the Year Grammy; this one made the last winner (“Beautiful Day”) seem as great as the stuff on the best list.
If God Will Send His Angels (1997) : As one of the few people that actually liked Pop, I almost feel bad singling out this track for derision, but it shouldn't have even appeared on the album. It's bad enough that the dreary melody is static and uninspired, but it derails Pop's momentum after getting slapped into the fourth track spot—sticking out like a sore thumb aesthetically from the rest just makes it seem all the worse.
Numb (1993) : The less said about “Numb,” the better. The Edge taking lead vocals isn't necessarily a bad idea; letting him drone-rap over a tepid techno arrangement is disastrous in concept alone, let alone execution.
Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of (2000) : U2's all-time worst single (and perhaps dreariest song, period). It's chockfull of hopeless lyrical groaners like, “I will not forsake/The colors that you bring/The nights you filled with fireworks/They left you with nothing.” And its sluggish, gospel-inspired melody is entirely devoid of a musical hook to make us forgive the words. I'm not a big fan of INXS, but Michael Hutchence deserved a better tribute.
And now, so you don't think I'm a ruthless bastard, the best:
Even Better Than the Real Thing (1991) : Proof that, as electrifying as Bono can be, he can also be the band's weak link. Witness his too-cool-for-school reading of, “You're honey child to a swarm of bees/Gonna blow right through you like a breeze.” But it's still a hell of a catchy dance rock song and I defy you to pass it by.
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For (1987) : A striking melody can overcome melodrama so long as it's not too ripe, which is precisely what happens on their second #1 from The Joshua Tree. It's about as close as arena rock ever came to gospel and no matter how overearnest it might sound, you have to be made of stone to not react strongly to it.
Discotheque (1997) : This song doesn't fit into the band's image (and the music video and tour that followed it proved as much), but just because they have no injustice to rail against doesn't mean they can't pen a grabby song. The borderline electro-rock riff is way cooler than those guys ever looked when they were playing it.
Pride (In the Name of Love) (1984) : Written about Martin Luther King, Jr., the lyrics are wider in scope (as is typical of the band) and present an enveloping view of the love/hate and peace/violence solutions that pit mankind. But you could believe it was just a simple love song and still get a kick out of the anthemic chorus.
Hold Me Thrill Me Kiss Me Kill Me (1995) : Continuing in their 90s alternative bent, they went all glam rock on “Hold Me...” and delivered arguably the brightest spot in an otherwise mediocre Batman adventure. That monster riff remains one of their all-time heaviest.
I Will Follow (1980) : Although it was the second single from Boy, this one opened the album and announced them right off the bat as a band to keep an eye on. It's even the only song from their first two albums that always shows up on their best-of packages. The speedy guitar riff would become a template for all of the band's up-tempo records from here on out.
Bad (1984) : Okay, so I'm kind of cheating here. This one was never released as a single. But it did get plenty of airplay and features in many of their live sets. It's also nice to hear U2 trade in their grander socio-political and spiritual themes for a more focused song about a drug overdose. Check out the ambitious 12-minute version recorded for Live Aid for an even more intriguing treat.
With or Without You (1987) : Uncomplicated and uncluttered, “With or Without You” may very well be the band's most recognizable song. It's debatable whether it's about love or God, but you imagine that this song could stretch to infinity if that were only possible.
Sunday Bloody Sunday (1983) : Bono insisted on a harsher, fuzzier guitar for this song and, along with the militaristic drum cracking, the band exploits that sizzle for all it was worth. The electric violin keeps the entire thing grounded in war-torn reality. A terrific protest song, the band rarely got heavier or more political than this.
One (1991) : Unlike, say, “If God Will Send His Angels,” this album change of pace works in their favor. It sounds very different than most of Achtung Baby's other offerings, but it comes early on and paints a daringly hopeful picture across a plaintive melody. Being named the all-time greatest song by Q Magazine is pretty laughable hyperbole, but they're a lot closer than those who shrug it off (if there are any).
Where the Streets Have No Name (1987) : It's doubtful that a series of arpeggios have ever made a better hook in a rock song before. This one stirs the fire in your gut long before you get to the refrain (before Bono even opens his mouth, in fact). Images of dust clouds, poison rain and desert plains would normally threaten to tip this one into overwrought territory, but the passion will convert even the sourest of cynics and anti-romantics.
New Year's Day (1983) : U2's first official hit (landing on both the UK and US charts) remains their best to this day. It's not a swirling guitar riff from the Edge that launches this one; instead it's his fearless keyboard hook. I doubt Bono's ever given a better soaring vocal performance in his entire career. No matter how numb you are to arena anthems, this one oughta get you every time.
So there you have it. Check back at the end of the week to see how their new album (and songs) stack up against their long and storied history.
