Saturday night my 18-year old son Nicholas and I went to see U2 in concert. We had general admission seats so we had to make our way to the Hippodrome early (joining 80,000 other fans). Nicholas had already spent the night downtown at a friend’s place and I was to meet up with them (her mother is also a friend of mine). I left the house at 3 pm and drove to the nearest metro. It was pretty funny how the metro was filled with all these white middle-aged suburban types, women with blond highlights and jewelry and men with Lacoste shirts who looked like they’d be more comfortable in their SUVs and who had probably not set foot in a metro since they were in University. But we were all advised to take the metro because of traffic problems. I probably blended in more with my shorts and converse sneakers. I wanted to wear my Smiths “Meat is Murder” t-shirt but figured I would be too hot and Bono would never see it anyway so I wore a light sleeveless blouse instead.
A sea of people was making the trek, like a mass pilgrimage to worship at the altar of U2. I met up with my friend and we tried to find our kids. Eventually I ended up finding Nicholas by way of cellphones and plastic water bottles waved frantically in the air. We were pretty close to the stage, as you can see from the picture. Although it was standing room only I lay down my poncho so we could sit for a bit among a forest of legs as it was 7 pm and I’d been on my feet for a while.
The opening act, a band called Interpol, performed. The lead singer was morose, and the keyboard player whom I suspect was his brother was even glummer. Here’s a word of advice for those in a band: If the audience shows more enthusiasm being at your show than you, you shouldn’t be performing. The guitarist was strutting around, the drummer was intense, but the keyboard player looked so bored I was actually offended. And even though it was probably nerves instead of boredom, next time try to crack a smile or something.
Then U2 came on and as usual were generous and passionate in their performance. Bono charmed the Montreal crowd by speaking French several times. There is something about the way he moves, sings, acts that makes you feel he is communicating solely with you instead of a crowd of tens of thousands of people. I can’t put my finger on it but it’s a trait he has in overwhelming quantities. It’s strange because he has sunglasses so you never see his eyes, he writhes around, a white man who can’t dance, but throughout it all he has this joyful, explosive energy and sings as though if he didn’t his heart would burst. U2 have their share of critics and sometimes their earnestness can be a bit uncomfortable but despite it all I think their hearts are in the right place. And I have always loved their music since I was 13 and first heard “Sunday Bloody Sunday”.
What was slightly annoying was while Nicholas and I were singing our lungs out at every song and dancing as much as we could in the crowd, in front of us were people who just stood there, not moving. Why take up that precious space near the stage if you’re not going to add to the energy level of the moment? Afterward we regretted not pushing our way through to the edge of the stage.
The concert ended at midnight and we did not get home till 2 am!
Bono - so close yet still so far
People, if you can't get your arms up while the Edge is doing a solo, don't stay at the front next time!
