Thinking Out LoudI still remember the first time I heard U2. I was all of 16, sitting at Maitland train station, half-listening to the radio crackling through the PA. Then I heard it – the opening riff of “Where The Streets Have No Name”. There was something about that song as it built slowly, layer upon layer, into a pulsating anthem. I was hooked.
And not just on the sound. U2 has always been more than a rock band. They’re a fascinating study on the intersection of fame, activism and an understated faith. All of which get solid airtime in Apple TV+’s recent release Bono: Stories of Surrender.
While the film is Bono’s account of the band’s meteoric rise, it’s anything but a standard rockstar documentary. Rather, we see a stripped-back artist, acknowledging the wrestle between ego and idealism – while confessing the impact of both on those closest to him. The performance is tight and well-rehearsed, but not superficial. This is art, full of soul and substance, woven through with a surprising theme for a global megastar: surrender.
In a world obsessed with power, control, and the careful curation of a public image, somehow Bono manages to hold his unparalleled success right next to a very approachable humanity. And perhaps that’s what makes the music so compelling. A seductive mix of romantic optimism and attainable hope, the possibility of “heaven on earth”.
That yearning haunts much of what U2 has produced over the years: echoes of a longed-for future where, in Bono’s words, “justice eliminates the need for charity”. U2’s songs are for the weary and the broken-hearted, and give voice to our collective longing for a beautiful day that doesn’t end.
This Thinking Out Loud was first published on Facebook.