I suppose that, rather reluctantly, I’m making a distinction between “high” and “low” art, which I don’t really want to do.  But for the purposes of this argument I will make that distinction simply because it’s the easier thing to do and I’m lazy.  To be sure, the previously mentioned artists have work that we should value albeit for reasons other than by which we may value work by artists such as U2, or Bob Dylan, or Neil Young.  Sadly, I’m not going to take the time here that would be necessarily to define accurately what I would consider “high” art and what I would consider “low.”  Let’s just say that if something doesn’t “expand and enhance our understanding” of something, then I probably wouldn’t consider it to be “high” art.

Obviously, or at least I hope that this is obvious, I would consider U2 to be “high” art (and now that I’ve said that I think I can avoid using this and the other term for the rest of this series of posts).  But I won’t just throw that out there without any backup.  There are definitely a few songs in U2’s cannon that, shall we say, are not as good as others.  However, there are just as many that could be used to show their artistic genius.  Let’s look at a few examples.

For a love song which has haunting guitar chords and drum beats that match the intense passion of the lyrics, take a listen to “Ultraviolet (Light My Way)” from the Achtung Baby album or “Desire” from the Rattle and Hum album.  For the pitfalls of celebrity, listen to “Gone” from the Pop album or the single from the (absolutely terrible, horrible, stomach empyingly awful) film Batman Forever, “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me.”  For experimental, existential, religious musings that even the staunchest atheist can appreciate (at least on an artistic level), listen to “40” from the War album or “Where the Streets Have No Name” and “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” from The Joshua Tree.  For pure existential musings, see “Out of Control” for U2’s first album Boy or “Zooropa” from the eponymous album.  Even the poppy sounds of “Discotheque,” “Elevation,” “Vertigo,” and “Get on Your Boots” have buried in them profoundly important questions about politics, society, art, and existence.

Even the tours themselves are a testament Bono and U2’s dedication to their art.  As soon as they were financially able, U2 began to produce concerts that would stick with their fans for the rest of their lives.  After the stadium tours of The Lovetown Tour, U2 took their in-concert performances to a new level.  The Zoo TV Tour was ambitious, and borrowed heavily from the German Existentialism that influenced the Achtung Baby and Zooropa, but that was nothing compared to the Popmart Tour.  The size of the screen alone (about 160 feet wide by 55 feet tall) was enough to wow most concertgoers, and if that didn’t do the trick, the 40 foot tall moving discoball shaped as a lemon (from which U2 would emerge halfway through the show) put the final nails in the coffin.  That the band was willing to risk so much (both financially and image-wise) on something so simple as delivering a quality show is a testament to their dedication as artists to their craft. 

As an artist, one would assume that someone arguing a case in support of said artist would primarily rely on that artist’s body of work.  Such is not the case here, for we are speaking of the whole man Bono and not just the artist.  The last two Reasons for Loving Bono could only be called Sister Motivations for Loving Bono.  To further the hole-in-heart analogy from earlier (Jerry Macguire style), they complete each other.  So, I will now provide extensive support to demonstrate that Reason #2: Bono has successfully become a rock star without sacrificing his character, and Reason #3: Bono hasn’t given up on the world’s poor (I needed to shorten it) can carry the remaining weight of my argument.

To read the next part of this Apologia Pro Vita Bono, click here!