Like him or loathe him, the man can sing.

U2 playing on Spotify

War was my first U2 album. I think my Canadian cousin had a copy. And possibly October too. But War.

A huge poster covering the entire wall of my bedroom, needing plenty of blue-tac.
Drowning Man my favourite song.

Bono sings from his own man show.
Knowing, but no less affecting.
Hmm.

The Unforgettable Fire. My favourite U2 album.
The Unforgettable Fire with its Eno influenced sketches and poetry. It’s a poetic album. Smudged in places, formed and hardened edges elsewhere. And Bono’s voice was probably at its peak, or not far off. This was Live Aid territory remember, just before they became huge. Stadium huge.

I started to lose interest around the Atomic Bomb album. Promises of new or rougher or whatever feel unfulfilled.Disappointing. Wanting that surge of feeling, of recognition(?), of connection and resonance when hearing (new) music.

But yes,

Meanwhile, it’s cold outside. Literally. Rain, almost snow. Bono sings Sunday Bloody Sunday, acoustic version.

And then of course, was the Joshua Tree, Rattle & Hum, and the shift to Achtung Baby.

The feeling, hmmm, from the music. Of being seen somehow, of it touching something deeper. It (the music) becomes a vehicle for that expression of a young teenage boy. Of this young teenage boy.

And today, singing along at home, those songs still resonate and reverberate. Reaching through time, bringing then to now, tapping those feelings, those heightened teenage emotions.

Like him or loathe him, the man can sing.