NRO Weekend, December 16-17, 2000
U2, Version 4.0
The band’s latest actually has something to say.

By Robert A. George, an editorial writer for the New York Post

n one respect, it's fair to say that U2 is a band in transition. Here they are twenty years down the road of what is by all accounts a remarkable career. But suddenly they find themselves surrounded by a world of Britneys, Eminems, and N*SYNCs. In other words, this band now faces the question that all popular music groups face at some point: How do you stay relevant? How does one grow old gracefully in a medium and a culture that prides youth above all?

But then again, U2 is a band that has always been "in transition." Though they are still the same basic four piece unit, they have always had a talent for being aware of who they are and creating music that reflects both life changes and their own insatiable curiosity.

This may be because the group came along at almost the perfect time: Thus they can be seen as one of the last of the great classic rock bands and as a founder of what has come to be known as the alternative/modern rock scene. For a generation who experienced high school and college in the '80s, U2 belongs to "us" in a way that no other group (with the possible exception of R.E.M.) could truly equal. Their questions were our questions — their journeys were our journeys.

The band's career can be broken down into three distinct eras: Their first album, Boy, was written and recorded when they were all in their late teens and rings with the sound of youthful optimism. The second, October, still has them sounding innocent, but also includes, "Gloria," which was an early indication that things of the spirit were important for Bono and Co., who when interviewed didn't seem ashamed to talk about their Christianity.

The third album, War, might be their most underrated. The hits, "New Year's Day" and "Sunday Bloody Sunday" are thundering anthems that stand with any in rock history. But drawing inspiration from the Irish "troubles," the work also contains some discrete low-key moments such as "Seconds," ruminating on the abruptness of life and death on the battlefield. U2's first era ended with War.

The mid-period was the group's first big transition. Consisting of The Unforgettable Fire, the Grammy-winning The Joshua Tree, and the half-studio, half-live, Rattle and Hum, this could also be called the American years. The group became overwhelmed with everything that America stood for. "Pride (In the Name of Love)" was inspired by Martin Luther King Jr. Joshua was a geographic and spiritual travelogue that showed a band at its creative peak. "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" is the standout from the era which the band turned into a gospel sing-along when they played it live. The fascination with things American expanded into jams with B.B. King.

Of course, the insights the band showed to the Catholic-Protestant conflict in Northern Island were not quite as evident when they tried to sing of American involvement in Central America. But one saving grace U2 has always possessed is the ability to not let their politics get in the way of music craft.

As the '90s dawned, U2 moved into world-conquering mode experimenting with various danceable rhythms and producing ostentatious concert tours. The albums that came out over this time, Achtung Baby, Zooropa, and 1997's Pop contain some great pop tunes, including the near-classic ballad "One" and some of their most brilliantly experimental (Zooropa's "Numb" and "The Wanderer" had rare non-Bono lead vocals by guitarist The Edge and Johnny Cash, respectively).

Their previous studio album, 1997's Pop, was an ambitious attempt to incorporate contemporary "electronica" danceable music into their act. However, as musically adventurous as the Irish fab four might be, they're not quite as good at mining material that's a natural for artists like Moby or Fatboy Slim. Pop reminded one of the Chris Rock joke about the old guy hanging out in the club: "He's not exactly old — just too old to be hanging out in the club." In "hanging out" at the dance clubs a little bit too long, U2 had produced an ambitious failure — but a failure nonetheless.

So, the question was, How do they stay relevant to the contemporary world around them? Easily, they go back to their roots. What they do best is to be an inventive, yet stunningly self-aware band crafting very good songs. All That You Can't Leave Behind seems like the beginning of U2's fourth phase. On the cusp of their 40s now, they are, by any measure "grown up." It's another life-transition that can be resisted but never completely denied. But growing up doesn't mean you discard everything that came before.

Growing up is realizing that all your past experiences — good and bad — combine to make you the mature adult you are now. The opening track, "Beautiful Day" pays a quick homage to Pop by using as an introduction sample of electronica band Underworld's hit "Born Slippy," before an Edge guitar blast and a soaring Bono vocal sends the band rocketing through an exuberant walk down the street. The album's title comes from another standout song, "Walk On," an anthem championing individual spirit and perseverance. It is dedicated to Myanmar opposition leader and Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi who received the Presidential Medal of Freedom on Wednesday.

If one had any doubt whether U2 could remain relevant after all these years, one need only note the second song on their newest CD, "Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of" — "You've got to get yourself together/You've got stuck in a moment and now can't get out of it." It's not specifically commenting about the U.S. election, but the lyrics sort of fit.

The themes remain the same for U2: love, longing, and hope. No matter how old they are, the optimism still burns — most likely because they still seem inspired by true faith. "Peace On Earth" is basically a prayer. Perhaps because their beliefs are grounded in something more than simple political correctness, the band is largely able to avoid — both in music and in their public lives — the insufferable pretentiousness that plagues many other pop musicians.

While Bono is fairly clearly left-of-center, he rarely sounds as mawkish and self-absorbed as, say, Sting (where is thy death?) or R.E.M.'s Michael Stipe. One of the more amusing moments of recent months weeks came out of Bono's visit to Capitol Hill to campaign for world-debt relief (his current pet project). He managed to stop by Jesse Helms office. The picture that came out of the meeting may go down in history along with the Nixon-Presley shot of three decades ago. Bono, amazingly, looks like he's having a good time — and oddly enough, so does Helms. Bono may be a lefty, but he's not afraid to at least be pictured with a lion from the Right.

All That You Can't Leave Behind might not be U2's finest album, but it is still one of this year's best, because it has something to say. It's appropriate that the last two songs are "New York" and "Grace." The former is, of course, about the city that to this day remains the source of inspiration for immigrants and visitors from all around the world — the symbol for perpetual reinvention. The latter is a tantalizing ambiguity:

What once was hurt
What once was friction
What left a mark
No longer stings
Because Grace makes beauty
Out of ugly things

Is it about love or is it about the spirit? Or both? Draw your own conclusions. This album shows that rock musicians can get older and not necessarily lose their, well, "edge," their creative spark. For their fans of a certain age, U2 is a comforting friend who reassures that growing up need not mean giving up all one's dreams and ideals.

If this is the first step in U2's next phase, then it will be worthwhile sticking close by to see where this latest journey takes them.