I've toyed with the idea of doing a blog for a while, though I already write a daily diary. That, however, is done from a historian's perspective and tends to be a record of what's happening, rather than what I'm feeling and thinking. But I went to see U2 last night at Wembley, and I wanted a record of it that was a bit more than a couple of lines of tiny scribble at the bottom of my page for August 14th, 2009.
In over 40 years of gigs, this was the biggest. Nearly 90,000 people, apparently: looking down at the solid mass of people clogging Olympic Way as they shuffled home towards the tube, I could well believe it. Even Glastonbury, the one year I went (1981 - I couldn't remember who was headlining and had to check online - it was Hawkwind). I'd bought pitch standing tickets on ebay, and was petrified that (a) they wouldn't arrive and (b), if they did, they'd turn out to be fake. When I pressed mine against the barcode reader and the light went green, I was somewhat relieved! Steve and the lads (Hugh, 19, Patrick, 16) also got safely in. Hugh had told me that U2 were deeply uncool, but he hadn't turned down a free ticket! He expressed surprise at the crowd. 'There's lots of young people - I thought they'd all be about your age!' I'm 57 (God that sounds old), and Steve's 50. Not that much older than U2 themselves, in fact. And it wasn't more than five minutes before the boys disappeared into the throng, anxious to get to the front (or to put as much distance between themselves and their uncool parents as possible).
Elbow were playing, but due to transport problems we'd arrived late (4 hours it took us from home) and we missed all but their last song, which was 'Rise'. A shame as I like the little I've heard of them and the reason we chose to go on Friday rather than the Saturday was that they were in support. Our lateness also meant that most of the food (but not the drink) had run out, and the only sustenance on offer was a khaki brown shiny bratwurst in a stale bun. It had the look of plastic, and reminded me of those hot dogs that you used to get in cinemas in the 60s and 70s. Well, it filled a hole, as my mum would have said. We fortified ourselves with a pint of Coke each, and launched ourselves into the fray.
In over 40 years of gigs, this was the biggest. Nearly 90,000 people, apparently: looking down at the solid mass of people clogging Olympic Way as they shuffled home towards the tube, I could well believe it. Even Glastonbury, the one year I went (1981 - I couldn't remember who was headlining and had to check online - it was Hawkwind). I'd bought pitch standing tickets on ebay, and was petrified that (a) they wouldn't arrive and (b), if they did, they'd turn out to be fake. When I pressed mine against the barcode reader and the light went green, I was somewhat relieved! Steve and the lads (Hugh, 19, Patrick, 16) also got safely in. Hugh had told me that U2 were deeply uncool, but he hadn't turned down a free ticket! He expressed surprise at the crowd. 'There's lots of young people - I thought they'd all be about your age!' I'm 57 (God that sounds old), and Steve's 50. Not that much older than U2 themselves, in fact. And it wasn't more than five minutes before the boys disappeared into the throng, anxious to get to the front (or to put as much distance between themselves and their uncool parents as possible).
Elbow were playing, but due to transport problems we'd arrived late (4 hours it took us from home) and we missed all but their last song, which was 'Rise'. A shame as I like the little I've heard of them and the reason we chose to go on Friday rather than the Saturday was that they were in support. Our lateness also meant that most of the food (but not the drink) had run out, and the only sustenance on offer was a khaki brown shiny bratwurst in a stale bun. It had the look of plastic, and reminded me of those hot dogs that you used to get in cinemas in the 60s and 70s. Well, it filled a hole, as my mum would have said. We fortified ourselves with a pint of Coke each, and launched ourselves into the fray.
More by default than anything else, we ended up just by the left hand claw. Did I mention the stage? It was surrounded and surmounted by a vast 4-pronged structure which supported the lighting, sound and a huge central video screen that could be lowered and raised. There's been a lot of criticism of this but I think it misses the point - that a rock band in a stadium like Wembley will be tiny doll-like figures to 95% of the audience. Something this big acts as a focus for those people who can't get close enough to the action, a visual spectacle to enhance and complement the music. And it certainly was amazing - colours, pictures, smoke, clips of the band, even, at the end, the impish, chuckling figure of Desmond Tutu, appealing for our help in Africa. It didn't matter that, being under 5 foot 6, I could only see Bono if I craned my neck and if the idiots in front didn't start waving their hands in the air and jumping up and down. I was there, and he was singing, and the Edge was playing, and everyone else was singing too, a community for one night of nearly 90,00 people.
I've liked U2 ever since I watched Live Aid and was blown away by their performance - I'd never heard of them before. Joshua Tree confirmed it, with moments, all too rare in music, that lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. With or Without You has been in my top three favourite songs for more than twenty years - God, he sings it sooo sexily - and although I don't like all their output One and Beautiful Day come pretty close to it. Hugh had called up the playlist for earlier gigs in this tour online, so we knew what was coming, and weren't disappointed. Perhaps the sound quality could have been better, but it was pretty good down by the claw, the Edge played amazingly, Bono sang his heart out, and two and a half hours of standing flew by a lot quicker than it does in the library.
The best, the most awe-inspiring, the most wonderful moment, was when they began I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. He sang a line, two lines, and we all joined in - ninety thousand people who all knew the words, and the tune, and the phrasing. Amazed, delighted, they stopped playing, and we carried on, unaccompanied, for a whole verse. I will never forget that moment: I've watched recordings of it on YouTube today and it still tingles the blood.
So, yes, it's all huge, overblown, a tad ridiculous. It cost a fortune to stage, and will make a rich band very much richer. But it made us richer too, in a different way. Rock groups have to be larger than life, or there's no point to their existence. That's what we want to see: we want to make them gods for an evening. And for one verse, we became gods too, under the Wembley arch.
I've liked U2 ever since I watched Live Aid and was blown away by their performance - I'd never heard of them before. Joshua Tree confirmed it, with moments, all too rare in music, that lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. With or Without You has been in my top three favourite songs for more than twenty years - God, he sings it sooo sexily - and although I don't like all their output One and Beautiful Day come pretty close to it. Hugh had called up the playlist for earlier gigs in this tour online, so we knew what was coming, and weren't disappointed. Perhaps the sound quality could have been better, but it was pretty good down by the claw, the Edge played amazingly, Bono sang his heart out, and two and a half hours of standing flew by a lot quicker than it does in the library.
The best, the most awe-inspiring, the most wonderful moment, was when they began I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. He sang a line, two lines, and we all joined in - ninety thousand people who all knew the words, and the tune, and the phrasing. Amazed, delighted, they stopped playing, and we carried on, unaccompanied, for a whole verse. I will never forget that moment: I've watched recordings of it on YouTube today and it still tingles the blood.
So, yes, it's all huge, overblown, a tad ridiculous. It cost a fortune to stage, and will make a rich band very much richer. But it made us richer too, in a different way. Rock groups have to be larger than life, or there's no point to their existence. That's what we want to see: we want to make them gods for an evening. And for one verse, we became gods too, under the Wembley arch.
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