When the stage starts smoking, you know something awesome is about to happen. And it did.
I highly recommend spending a Thursday evening with 60,000 strangers. Preferably ones who freak out with united enthusiasm for "Mysterious Ways." (Oh, and make sure that you spend that same incredible evening with your dad.)
Seeing U2 play live has been on the bucket list since the list's first day of existence. And now I can die happy. As if Bono knew the importance of such an event, he sang my dream set list.
The acoustic rendition of "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of" was breathtaking. I'm still intimidated by last night's flawlessness. It was seamless, passionate and straight-up rock 'n' roll. Both spectacular and intimate.
An open roof. A packed Rogers Centre. One thunderous voice singing "Amazing Grace." A cappella. Followed by "Where the Streets Have No Name." Chills.
Since yesterday's post was filled with musical references, I figured I'd just expand here with fun visuals courtesy of YouTube. As is the weekly tradition.
First, my life in Toronto Star headlines:
U2 is sold out. Sort of. Stupid Ticketmaster. (And no, I did NOT pay $252 for mine.)
Katy Perry was sold out. And packed with teenyboppers. I'm still recovering from being assaulted with ponytails. But 'twas fun.
And in other news, my friend and I showed up in the same pair of shoes. Apparently half a decade of absence does not negate amazingly identical tastes in footwear. The Star did not cover this. Should have.
The Daylights
They opened last night. And were quite good. With a bit of a U2-meet-The-Killers vibe. Too bad they confused "conceived" with "consummated" during an otherwise cute moment of banter. I care about the misuse of vocabulary. Especially when around impressionable/dumb teenagers.
Extra props for waiting until every fan who wanted to meet them did. I appreciate non-divas.
Katy
No, the video's not from last night. But she did grab a remarkably similar acoustic moment. And impressed me with her ability to sing live.
To keep things interesting, there was an inflatable cherry chapstick on-stage. And she sang in front of an inflatable "Kitty Purry" set. And wore a penguin mini-dress. Did I mention that teenagers love her? Adorableness-meets-questionable-lyrical-content.
And coming up....
U2
I heart "One." And to hear it played in Ireland would be pretty darn fantastic. Most of you know I'm not a beer drinker. But I'll have a pint in Dublin one day. Preferably with The Edge. I think he's highly underrated.
Am I excited for September? I'll have to get back to you on that one.
I didn't really get Bruce Springsteen tonight. I didn't connect. I didn't want to be there. I was distracted by slightly off-key vocals and some awkward stage antics. And his crotch. Maybe I'm into subtle rockers. I don't know. I apologize if this makes me a horrible human being.
Speaking of crotches (best segue ever), today was the second time Bruxy mentioned "crushed testicles" at church. This is a fact. I have no opinion on the matter. I am not a boy. (Although such a situation sounds rather uncomfortable.)
Last year's Tom Petty halftime was my kind of show. "Free Fallin'" is what got me through my longest run ever this week (yes, folks, over 5k already!), so he's officially my best friend. I want to be a Heartbreaker. Literally.
Of course, I'd have to pick U2 as my all-time favorite. Hands down. No argument. Ever. Although it's a little awkward to watch now, as it's so saturated with 9/11 aftermath. But still, I want to be 1/16th as awesome as Bono when I grow up.
Okay, so Bono's 150% non-subtle. But no crotch shots. Ah, I don't know what I want. I guess I just wanted something more from the Boss. That's all.
Although I'm thankful he didn't invite Britney to duet with him while wearing a sport sock on her wrist. I'm still not sure how I feel about the *NSYNC-meets-Aerosmith year.
"You are Aero-Sync."
Britney and her sock arm appear at 8:22. If you care.
P.S. Is it wrong that I prefer Justin Timberlake doing robotic choreographed lunges over his music now? Pre-Janet Jackson-fiasco Justin. Semi-love him.
The year? 1978. The band? U2. The Edge? Awesome. The Edge's hair? Even more awesome. Bono? Rock-star ego first, rock-star talent second. Love it. The verdict? Greatest. Band. Ever.
Was I this cool at 18? Not even close.
This was recorded two years after U2 formed (Yes, when Bono was only 16. How very Hanson). And two years before Boy was released. If I ever hang out with Marty McFly and Doc Brown, I'm going to go back to '78 Dublin and be a manager/producer. And then I'll invest my U2 money in Microsoft....
The last couple of days have been spent in sweats, gorging on comfort foods and guilty-pleasure TV. After a few days of surviving on extra-strength Tylenol and black coffee at work, I took Friday off and allowed myself to indulge in sleep, sugar and red sweatpants. The red pants are legendary; they’re my “I’m not leaving this apartment” stop sign. Ahh. But as much as I love a weekend of cozy nothingness, by last night, upon realizing that Scott Baio telling his life coach, “I’m afraid of dying alone” was actually moving me, I knew I had to escape my little Batcave.
It was hard to get out of bed this morning. My left eyelid was partially swollen shut. The right side of my face had broken out. But I refused to be a victim of vanity and headed off to church, puffy face and all.
After church, I stuck around for the IMAX matinee of U23D. It. Blew. My. Mind. It’s a little awkward to admit that the best concert I’ve ever been to was on a movie screen, but it’s true. I can’t even really process it all. Just straight-up awesome.
Unos, dos, tres….catorce!
(Yes, I know he says, “One, two, three….fourteen!” It’s the brilliance of songwriting.)
I got chills. Multiple times. There’s something about a crowd of thousands shouting the word “love” over and over that makes me a little shaky. And thanks to the power of 3D, when Bono sings the “wipe your tears away” line from “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” I actually thought he was going to do just that. Seriously, his hand was thisclose to my face.
Beyond the many goose-bump moments, the film further solidified my U2 love (yes, apparently, it was possible). I can’t remember ever really appreciating the Edge, Adam and Larry so specifically as individuals. But now I’m officially the president of each of their fan clubs. You’d have to see it to understand, but it was refreshingly not just the Bono show. And the Edge plays the piano. Which means I’m in “music love.” Oh, and those men totally love each other. It’s actually slightly adorable. In a very manly rock-‘n’-roll way, naturally.
Sure, there were the typical Bono theatrics. Taking place over seven shows in South America, it was über-activism focused, with Bono “detonating” his mike stand, wearing his Coexist headband (at one point as a blindfold), and a united crowd (cell-phone lights ablazing) rocking out with an almost revolutionary fervor.
“Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own” was breathtaking. How many grown men write love songs about their fathers? There was a chilling moment (whether you think it’s a moment of staged cheese, I don’t care) when Bono reached out for a hug, clinging to the empty air as if it were his dad. It almost brought me to tears.
If I lived my day-to-day life with one-tenth the passion and conviction those men channel into a single song, things would be significantly different. Probably in a good way.
When the stage starts smoking, you know something awesome is about to happen. And it did.
Seeing U2 play live has been on the bucket list since the list's first day of existence. And now I can die happy. As if Bono knew the importance of such an event, he sang my dream set list.
The acoustic rendition of "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of" was breathtaking. I'm still intimidated by last night's flawlessness. It was seamless, passionate and straight-up rock 'n' roll. Both spectacular and intimate.
P.S. The Edge wore plaid. Sigh.
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