U2
Etihad Stadium, Melbourne
Wedneday 1st December
When you watch TV, brain activity switches from the left side of your brain (responsible for logical thought and critical analysis) to the right side. This is significant because the right side of the brain does not critically analyse incoming information, instead it uses an emotional response. This means there is little or no analysis of incoming information (source).
I'm confused. Tired. I'm watching
U2 mince around underneath their colossal "Claw" configuration, which dwarfs one end of Etihad stadium and my mind is in a lull. All the pretty lights and the fog and the mirrorballs and the waiting for it all to actually do something. Which it doesn't, really. Sure, for 'City of Blinding Lights' the circular video screen extends impressively down to the point where it hangs just a few feet above the band's heads. And turns the place into a massive dancefloor for mid-set highlight 'I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight'. It's a huge feat of engineering. But...why? The great irony of U2's humongous stage shows being built to match their stadium surrounds, to project their yearning, broad musical brushstrokes, is that it pushes us away. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
It's not the cavernous venue. Last year we
saw Pearl Jam turn this very stadium into an intimate karaoke box, with naught but a tiny stage and a row of lights. It doesn't help that Bono seems a bit distracted by something tonight. Fatigue perhaps. (Nor that earlier, support act
Jay-Z managed to get things going with but a simple request for people to swing their tee-shirts over their heads, to great success.
"Right now we only at arena level, I wanna get stadium". 'Empire State of Mind' managed to suggest that mainstream audiences might one day have a place in their heart for hip-hop, though nobody was singing along to the verses.) After U2 walk out under house lights to perform the new - and nobody's favourite - 'Return of the Stingray Guitar', the lights flick out, the Claw lights up and 'Beautiful Day' sends everyone into fits. But soon begins the kind of searching statements that sound like oncoming profundity, only to trail into half-thought. "Thanks for following us through our experiments, whether musically, spiritually...thanks". Both The Edge and Adam Clayton are wearing shimmering, sparkly versions of casual clothes, the kind that's meant to add a dash of magic to the everyman persona. But in 2010, when similar items are seen on the Ed Hardy mob down at the shopping centre, the effect is faddish. Larry Mullen Jr nearly gets away with it, until he has to come down and walk the revolving circular gang plank wearing a strap on bongo.
Early highlights are 'I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For' and 'Mysterious Ways', even if the latter's phase-y crunch does get lost in the surrounds. The middle of the set then drags with mid-tempo arrangements that aren't helped by The Edge experiencing a few guitar issues; new song 'Mercy' should soon be a Classic FM staple, 'Bad' from 1984's
The Unforgettable Fire carries to the back seats and sees Bono satisfyingly nail the high notes, but 'In A Little While' and 'Miss Sarajevo' knock the heart rate down to a crawl. After the aforementioned adrenaline shot involving the lowering of the video screen, the Claw switches to a green, orange and white motif (yes, the colours of the Irish flag, trainspotters) for 'Sunday, Bloody Sunday'. It's a rare moment of subtle emotional grandeur. Which is then punctured by Jay-Z guesting with a lukewarm verse. He trails off with a mention of Aung San Suu Kyi, the recently released Burmese activist. This segues into a video montage of facts about the political upheaval in Burma overlaid on the band members, and then a bunch of extras encircle the gangplank holding peace candles during 'Scarlet'. The left side of my brain has well and truly left the building.
OK, if the focus is meant to be on the Claw and it's state of the art video screen, why are so many of the images projected on it so...
amateurish? A cartoon sequence between the first encore is particularly lame, looking like it was made in MS Paint, and any time words are randomly laid over the screen it conjures images of an early '90s "how to use your computer" CD-ROM. Alternatively, the flashbacks to the band having their photos taken at Joshua Tree during the
Rattle n Hum era add - funnily enough - a much-missed human element to the night; so too the synchronised face arrangement during the aforementioned 'I'll Go Crazy...'. But otherwise it is, essentially, like someone's left a TV turned on to the community channel.
The highlight of the night by a mile is 'With Or Without You', the second last song. A plain stage, the mirrorball at the Claw's peak
finally spun into action, sending speckles of light twirling around this great expanse; for a moment, we're at the tail-end of the world's biggest high school dance. Partners are clung too, drunk couples twirl and even a few stage-facing security guards appear misty-eyed. The simple power of song is allotted its deserved breathing space.
There was a time when U2 were radical. First for their music, then their politics and then the kind of
statements that underlined, particularly, the ZooTV and Pop stage shows. When this latest era is more well known for its boasts of the amount of trucks needed to bring the show in, the size of the plane, how they can't close the roof here tonight - stories of how they supposedly had to pave a road in Spain just to get the thing in over there - they seem anything but. Put the Edge and Bono on a stool with an acoustic - really impress us.
Marcus
(Pics: CC Hua)