U2 Interviews
- "First of all, I´m God"
- © NME, 21. October 1995
Goodbye Macphisto, ciao Pavarotti. Farewell glitterati, hello
literati. A warm welcome, if you will, for BONO, who is not only
taking rock 'n' roll to a Swansea literature convention, but is
also granting NME his first interview in two-and-a-half years.
Andy Richardson hears about his latest project 'Passengers,' the
future of rock 'n' roll and his new haircut.
Arielle lies crumpled on the floor. Her breath is fast and
erratic, her eyes glazed and black make-up runs down her cheeks.
She is jet-lagged and hysterical.
She clutches a CD-sized copy of a U2 booklet in her left hand.
'Look,' she wails, pointing to a small black signature that says,
'Bono.' 'He actually touched it.' And then she slumps to the
floor, exhausted.
Beside Arielle stand her friends, Roseanna Marielle, 21, and
Patricia Mondez, 22. The trio have flown 6,000 miles from their
homes in Uruguay to be at the Grand Theatre, off Singleton
Street, in Swansea. It is a dark, drizzling, depressing place but
Roseanna and Patricia smile broadly. Tonight they achieved a
lifetime's ambition: they finally met their hero.
Arielle snivels and wipes away more tears. The details of the
meeting have slipped into the back of her mind. She can't recall
how she ran screaming up to the black limousine when it pulled
into the car park 30 minutes ago. She can't remember the moment
when the squat, 35-year-old Irishman climbed out of the limousine
sporting a brown tweed cap and greying stubble. And she can't
bring herself to recollect the moment he put his arm around her
and flashed his millionaire's smile. She is too
overwhelmed.
'It was something very, very emotional,' says Roseanna. 'I've
been waiting for this moment for eight years. Eight years. It's
very hard to explain it in words. Very, very hard. He's a
wonderful musician, you know. He is, you know, a very ... he
takes care about the fans. He's a very sensible person, very
polite, very kind, very smart. He has all these qualities you
know. He is a wonderful human being.
Welcome to Swansea, Bono.
BONO IS sitting on a green crushed velvet settee opposite
Newsnight journalist Robin Denselow, smoking a pencil-thin guitar
and blowing plumes of grey smoke across the stage. He is dressed
in green Ray Ban shades, a purple two-piece suit, a smart brown
woollen top with vertical stripes, grey snakeskin shoes and green
socks. Around his neck hangs a thick silver chain made by an
Irish silversmith.
In front of him is a wooden coffee table neatly laid with an
ashtray, jug of water, four glasses and two bottles of Budweiser.
There are two seven-foot-tall books behind the settee, and a
black backdrop emblazoned with a gold, hand-shaped logo and the
words 'Abertawe Swansea.' Tonight Bono is due to talk in front of
a packed 1,200 seat theatre, aided by Denselow.
The talk is part of the UK Year of Literature 1995. He is one
of 32 patrons, along with Jimmy Carter, Lork Callaghan, Bjork,
Jane Campion, Seamus Heaney, Arthur Miller and Salman Rushdie,
and the event aims, simply, to promote literature and raise
awareness of human rights.
Nearby, the bustling theatre bar is packed with scores of U2
devotees. Fifteen year old Michael Williams, from Port Talbot,
met Bono when he arrived. 'He was so generous it was amazing,' he
says. 'I thought he'd just go past, but he shook hands and signed
autographs.'
His friend, Paul Michael, aged 16, has an autograph which
reads, 'David Cassidy' scrawled across his U2 t-shirt. 'The talk
was originally scheduled for last summer but then it was
postponed and people thought it would fall down the pan. I'm
amazed he's here.'
Manchester-born Dave Riley, from Ferryside, is anxious to hear
Bono talk about his murder song 'Exit' while the Jones family,
from Gower, are planning to gatecrash when Bono retires to the
nearby Ferry Hill Hotel. Alan Jones, 45, says: 'They are a
thinking man's band. They trigger off the thoughts in your mind.
They give it the hoil of music, he's got the Irish hoil in him.'
His wife, Elizabeth, and children, Cathleen, 20, Sarah, 16, and
Julian, 14, listen attentively and nod in approval.
CUT TO the chase. Bono has not given an interview in
two-and-a-half years. He has been told that the NME is present
and with a mixture of dogged persistence, good fortune and kind
help from his publicist we are now standing outside his dressing
room.
And then we are called over. The dressing room door swings open
and we are asked inside.
The dressing room is small and cramped. There is a two-seater
sofa, a small en suite bathroom, a row of large mirrors and a
table scattered with empty beer bottles, glasses of orange juice,
bottle tops, which are being used as mini-ashtrays, and a plate
of half-eaten sandwiches decorated with ornately-cut
radishes.
Bono looks tired and drained.
'It wasn't easy,' he says, slugging back a glass of Jameson's.
'I didn't know what to expect. I think the English have a problem
accepting lyrics as literature. They somehow look down on them.
It's as though, because lyrics are not written in books, they are
a lower form.'
The room is filling gradually with promoters, theatre staff
and organisers from the UK Year Of Literature. Three people call
Bono over and hand him a collection of Welsh poetry, a copy of
Under Milk Wood and a weathered LP of the same title.
But time is slipping by. It is 10:30pm and time for Bono to
leave. His bodyguard is hatching a plan to smuggle the singer out
of the building in a decoy car. Another aide tells him that it is
less that 20 minutes before they fly home from an airstrip in
Swansea.
'Bono?' The singer spins on his heels and surveys your NME
hack. 'Can we talk for a few minutes?'
He nods in agreement and, ignoring his aides, reclines into
the two-seater sofa. He slips his green Ray Bans on and lights
another small cigar. Behind his head, fans hammer on the dressing
room window, desperately trying to get Bono's attention.
Can you tell me about the new album 'Passengers'? It was
recorded with Brian Eno.
'Brian has been a part of our set-up for a long time now, over
the past ten years almost. We just wanted to make a record where
he was in charge.'
The knocking behind his head continues and cameras flash as
Bono talks. An aide opens the curtains and beckons the fans to go
away. 'He's no longer here,' she lies.
'Passengers' features U2, Brian Eno, Pavarotti, Mo'Wax's Howie
B and Japanese singer Holi. It was recorded during a two-week
session at London's Westside Studio last November and a five-week
session in Dublin this summer.
Bono continues: 'We just wanted to be in Brian's band. He's an
extraordinary man and he's had a very interesting part to play in
our own development. It used to be said that a lot of English
rock 'n' roll bands went to art school and we went to Brian. We'd
always talked of doing something at some time, a
collaboration.'
But it's not an easy album to listen to. Do you think some
fans will be alientated?
'I think some people won't be into it, that's for sure. The
guitars are very heavily treated and processed and don't sound
like guitars. The people who are expecting a U2 album are going
to be disappointed. But if they want something to kind of trip
out to... it's a late-night record. It feels like it's been set
on the bullet train in Tokyo. Every record has a location, a
place where you enjoy listening to it, whether that be a bedroom
or a club, well this record location is a fast train. It's slo-mo
music though. But it has an odd sense of speed in the
background.'
Does it excite you that you will again confound people's
expectations?
'I think it's really important to keep things interesting for
yourself. It's a selfish record in that sense. But there's a few
songs on it as well as the instrumentals.'
What was it like working with Eno, Pavarotti and Howie B?
'It's extraordinary to have been around for as long as we have
been around and still find music with people we want to play
with. With 'Passengers,' we have a vehicle to do collaborations
with whomever it is we want to play with ... Howie B, Pavarotti
or anyone. It's great. I think the only limit is our own
imagination and I think U2 are fairly kind of desperate in that
regard.'
A minder presses my shoulder and beckons Bono to leave. He is
already late for his flight, the banging on the window has become
incessant and his staff are anxious for him to leave.
Bono, I believe you'll be releasing a new U2 record sometime
next summer.
'We're going to make a real rockin' record. Edge is falling
back in love with the guitar and he's making it sound like it's
never been heard before. It's a new instrument in his hands.
Everybody's just in fine form. U2 are desperate to make a great
rock'n'roll record. We've not yet made our best record. We're
slow learners. But I've really got to go.'
And then he gets up and is ushered through a private corridor
to leave.
REWIND TWO hours. Tonight is the highlight of the UK Year Of
Literature. More than 250,000 people have attended a series of
events; from poetry recitals to discussions of Celtic literature
and seminars on sea shanties. Event director Dean Doran is
thrilled by Bono's presence. He believes it will help demystify
literature and put lyric writing on an equal footing with poetry,
fiction and drama.
'He is a very interesting thinker and personality,' says
Doran. 'His ability to deal seriously and sensitively with
contemporary issues and his decision to take the unusual step of
appearing at a festival of literature are a tribute to his
talent.'
When the curtain rises, Bono is given a gushing introduction.
We are told that U2 are one of the great bands of the last 20 or
30 years with a passion reminiscent of the great American soul
artists. And then Bono appears. The applause is immense. Flash
bulbs blaze, the theatre is illuminated and people cheer
furiously as Bono walks forward. He is nervous and ill at ease
and walks sheepishly with hunched shoulders to his chair.
'This is quite interesting, isn't it? It's The Des O'Connor
Show,' he offers and the audience laugh.
'The first thing to know about rock 'n' roll lyrics is that
they are not literature. They are something else. They are
something more or they are something less; they are only part of
the story,' he says.
'I've learned, for instance, how to listen to Michael Jackson
records, I've figured it out. I just pretend I can't speak
English. And I am a huge fan as a result. I mean that. It's just
the 'Man In The Mirror' and all that fucks me up. But you know
what I mean, it's another language. Often, rock 'n' roll music is
a very narrow emotional bandwave that is simply, you know, 'I
want to shag you', and that's not very, very high on my agenda.
But it's, 'How I want to, and why, and oh gosh, I am married',
and there's all these things that make it interesting.'
Women cough nervously and laugh, while the men cheer
raucously. Bono continues.
'There was a fantastic Japanese translation of a song called
'Out Of Control.' I think the opening line, it's not great
poetry, but it was the opening line, and I wrote it on my
eighteenth birthday and it was, 'Monday morning, 18 years
bawling, how long?' something like that. And the Japanese
translation was 'Monday morning, knitting ears of food.' We've
also got a good one, another one from the Far East, and we got a
letter in because they'd heard that I was doing a duet with Frank
Sinatra. A duet called, 'I've Got You Under My Chicken.' I might
have that put on my gravestone.'
Bono is a fan of literature. He has an extensive library
ranging from classics through to books on gardening, although
often he'll only read the first 17 pages of a book before
returning it to the shelf. At the 1995 Cuirt Literature Festival
in Galway, his introduction of author Allen Ginsberg was
described as 'brilliant and astute' and may be used as a preface
to a future Ginsberg book.
Tonight he is due to spend 45 minutes discussing lyric writing
and books, followed by a 45-minute question and answer session.
But, perhaps inevitably, he talks instead about U2, Pavarotti,
the overload of 'Achtung Baby' and 'Zooropa,' the IRA, Salman
Rushdie, Charles Bukowski, his new film Million Dollar Hotel,
Britpop and the devil.
'Pavarotti's a father figure,' Bono says. 'He's an
extraordinary man. He rang me and asked me to write a song and I
said I didn't think that would be possible because we were
working on these two records: this 'Passengers' project and the
next U2 record. And he just wouldn't stop calling, which was
pretty amazing. Every single day he would ring the house and if
he wasn't called back immediately he would shout at the
housekeeper and say, "Tell God to give me a call." I would go to
the band and say, "He's been on again, and we have to write him a
tune," and they'd just say, "Oh fuck off.'"
'He [Pavarotti] would say things like 'I will call you every
day, every hour, I will be with you in your dreams. I will speak
into the ear of your children.' But it's such an honour.'
The U2/Pavarotti track is 'Miss Sarajevo.' It was performed in
Pavarotti's hometown of Modena, Italy, on September 12 during a
charity concert called Pavarotti and Friends in aid of Bosnia.
The track is included on 'Passengers.'
It tells the story of a beauty pageant in the devastated
Bosnian city.
'I just think you've got to be smart about the way you go
about making the same points. I've tried before to take on these
subjects head-on and I've learnt a lesson. The track's about a
beauty pageant they put on there. They turned this shelter into a
discotheque and they just play music at deafening volume to drown
out the sound of the shells and, you know, they watch MTV and
play our music and other people's music.
'There's one woman and as soon as the shelling gets really bad
she just walks up into her house and they don't fuck with her and
she plays, practises the scales. Then they put on this beauty
pageant where the girls came out. They want to use their beauty
as a weapon to defend themselves and they walk out on the stage
with this, 'Do you really want to kill us?' [pose]. It's a great
surreal act of defiance.'
And then Bono turns to the audience. 'Can I steal a cigarette
from someone?'
'There is a scramble through bags, jackets and pockets.
Someone shouts 'spliff' and a moment later Bono is showered with
cigarettes.
'If there are any journalists in the crowd, please note that
neither my father nor my mother know I smoke. I tell my old man
that I just smoke cigars and I don't inhale and he says,
"Apparantly that will lead to stronger things.'
IT IS is two years and three months since U2 released their
last album, 'Zooropa.' The record entered the UK and US charts at
Number One and included the track 'Dirty Day,' dedicated to the
late, legendary, American rock 'n' roll author, Charles
Bukowski.
'Bukowski's an incredible character. He came to see us play.
He said (adopts gravelly American accent), "I haven't been to a
rock show since the early '70s," and Larry sang "Dirty Old Town"
for him and dedicated it to him. And he is this 75-year-old
hard-ass with tears in his eyes.
'He called me once to say that he was dying. It was in my
house and it was 6am and it was a little bit loose. The next time
he called he said (adopts accent), 'I'm in trouble. I've been
fucking with Dr. Death and I think I'm going to lose come June.'
And he did, he died, just after that.'
'Zooropa' came midway through U2's epoch-making Zoo TV tour,
which started on February 29, 1992, at the Lakeland Civic Centre
Arena, in Florida. Zoo TV introduced multi-media to the concert
stage. In Michigan, Bono phoned Speedy Pizza and ordered 10,000
pizzas for fans. An hour later 100 pizzas arrived and the three
delivery guys where each given a 50 tip; famously, there was a
live broadcast from Sarajevo while, at Wembley, U2 were joined by
Salman Rushdie.
'You got to remember I was dressed as the devil at the time,
so The Satanic Verses did seem right, I guess. His [Rushdie's]
dilemma is actually closer to rock 'n' roll than you think. I
think he has behaved with enormous grace under pressure and with
humour and with. It must have scared the shit out of him to be
onstage at Wembley Stadium with the devil. But I like it when
it's mixed up.'
Did you enjoy dressing as the devil?
'Dressing up as the devil is great. I enjoyed every minute of
it. The amazing thing was a woman called Eunice Shriver who set
up the Special Olympics - she's one of the Kennedys and an
American Irish I suppose - she came down to see us. She's
incredibly erudite and she's up on everything, a pretty sharp
lady. And she said after the show, "Y'know, I used to go and see
U2 shows and I just saw these kind of angels." And she said,
"Tonight I saw these devils as well as angels on stage and I
think I liked it better. It's a fairer fight." Macphisto walking
through the Vatican. That was great. I really enjoyed that.
Walking through the Vatican with my stick thinking, "One day this
could all be mine."
'You have to accept the bold type and caricaturing that goes
on when you become a big band and have fun with it and create
these other alter egos. They weren't parodying at all, they
weren't just sides of yourself, they were just different
characters. They were just a way of sending out a decoy because
deep down I'm just a really nice guy.
'It was pretty dizzy, just the kind of media overload. There's
kind of confusion that is great fun for a rock 'n' roll band to
play with. We got very excited about working with all this stuff
that is out there. I mean a simple device like a telephone is
probably something that didn't occur to Elvis. But I just think
that in the '90s it's amazing that you can pick up the phone and
ring the White House or Alessandra Mussolini. You can have 70,000
people singing 'I Just Called To Say I Love You' on the
phone.
'It just seemed like a way of being on tour for two years and
not getting bored. There was some extraordinary stuff, like the
Sarajevo broadcast, which was was hard to continue the show
after. I didn't quite get to a conclusion. But it's still
extraordinary and I imagine it must be doing our collective head
in.'
MACPHISTO has now been laid to rest as U2 have moved on. Aside
from 'Passengers,' Bono and The Edge have written a song called
'GoldenEye' for the forthcoming James Bond film, Bono is making
his own movie and there is a new pro-Irish-peace anthem, 'North
and South of the River,' recorded with Christy Moore. The song is
a plea for a long-term solution to the troubles in Northern
Ireland, although U2 have vowed not to play it live.
'If U2 sang that song at this point, it might be reason enough
for the troubles to start up again. I've had enough bruises and
scars not to want to take things on the head in the same way
anymore. I think you've got to be smarter now. But this is the
moment. I don't know if a moment is going to come along like this
again. The real hero is John Hume, he's the man who's been
working the same groove for 20 years. He's the Martin Luther King
of this moment.
'I'm still Old Testament enough and Californian enough to
believe in atonement and karma. I do think it's a very important
time for Britain because Britain has a lot to answer for in this
regard and I'd hate to be going around carrying all that baggage.
I think it would be great to have Prince Charles come to Ireland
and actually say: "There has been a terrible tragedy here and
we're a part of it and let's try to work a way out." I mean
something like that would do. What else are royalty good
for?'
Bono's film, Million Dollar Hotel, will be shot early next
year in LA and directed by Wim Wenders. It is about a hotel in
the downtown banking district of LA and has taken five years to
write.
'The hotel has all kinds of people in there, there's people
from all over America. There's hookers, crack dealers ... people
just trying to make their way. While I was there a hooker was
thrown out of the 15th-story window and was kind of swept right
up off the street. This is the most extraordinary place I've
every been and I started to write the script then.'
U2 have also maintained their links with charities Greenpeace
and Amnesty International, pledging long-term support to both
organisations.
'I still have very strong feelings about such matters,' says
Bono. 'All the prisoners aren't out and all the people who are
starving aren't fed, so it goes on. But you see, the first
responsibility of a rock 'n' roll star is not to be dull. I think
it's part of the job to have jeopardy. At least unreliable and at
best human sacrifice and self-mutilation. It's cool to be
concerned about the environment and have a political attitude but
only if it brings you close to your real job as a firework. So
martyrdom is cool, you know, the business of getting up on the
cross. I don't think in the '80s we were rock 'n' roll. I think
we were the loudest folk band. And now we're a rock 'n' roll band
and I know that the best way to make the same point is to be a
bit smarter.'
ACT II. Bono the voice of literature morphs into Bono the rock
'n' roll star. He has taken a 20 minute break and on the table in
front of him are a sheath of audience questions, although within
minutes people will be shouting irreverently from the floor.
Are you part of the Dublin scene?
'In Dublin I think people hate our guts and that suits me just
fine. When a band gets as big as U2 it can be a pain in the arse
for people who have to put up with it all the time.'
What do you feel about your new haircut and how do you feel
about the fact that Gazza's copied it?
'He's some baby. We made a deal. He could have the crew-cut if
I could have the dreadlocks that he threw off.'
What do you think of Supergrass?
'Supergrass? Keep smoking.'
How has critical acclaim and criticism affected your work?
'I developed that Mike Tyson thing (rolls his neck). I'd like
more. Please, more. It would be such a shame to die and have it
all come later.'
Who do you attribute your success to?
'Jah, man.'
Did they tamper with the photos of Adam on the cover of
Achtung Baby or is he really that talented?
'He's definitely the most important member of U2.'
After visiting Graceland, do you think, when you pass away,
your house will be open to the public?
'It's funny because we're actually working on a Bono ice cream
and I just brought some with me. Erm, absolutely.'
The questions continue.
If, in the event one of the members of the band being
tragically killed, could you see yourself recording in 25 years
time with some long-lost tapes?
'Anything that's even kind of good has been released. I hate
the idea of someone releasing stuff like that.'
So are the Beatles all wrong?
'No, I'll listen to any old shite. I will buy it and I hope
it's not shite, but even if it is I'll probably listen buy it
just to hear the sound of his voice because it's John
Lennon.'
Would you play in Omen 5?
'Omen 5? Now you're talking! It's funny, my mother used to
call me the Antichrist.'
Do you like grunge music?
'I find grunge music desperately boring. Offspring, that's
heavy duty. I can get into Offspring but I have to be really
pissed off.'
What was it like working with Bob Dylan?
'I woke up with a bleeding hangover and I had a melody in my
head. I wrote it down and it sounded like a Bob Dylan song, and I
thought maybe it was a Bob Dylan song - signs of megalomania in
that - and I just happened to be seeing him later on that day and
I said, "That isn't one of yours is it?" and he said, "No but you
know, we could write it now." I'm just a fan, that's actually
part of the reason for working with all these people ... Johnny
Cash, Frank Sinatra. I'm corny enough to believe in lineage.
And
there's the Old Testament idea of catching the blessing. I just
run around hoping these people will lay hands on me and I just
get the vibe.
Is it true that during the Zoo TV tour you woke up in a room
one morning surrounded by prostitutes and with a boa constrictor
across your chest?
'It was a python, not a boa constrictor. It's funny the things
that happen to you on tour. You see people when you travel the
world and some of them keep pythons, but that was a sign and that
sign said "Go home." So I did.'
Who's closer to God, Blur or Oasis?
'Well first of all, I am God. And Liam is my only son. I think
they are both good songwriters and everything but I do think that
when that guy Liam sings that there is something, there's some
sort of ache, as well as the anger, and it's the ache that
separates some music from others. It has to be magic. His band
are great. He's ... he's ... he's ... I'm very pleased with
myself.'
'I like the girlfriend of the guy in Blur. Elastica, she's got
a great band. They're good. Their bands really want to be great
bands and be like the Stones and the Beatles. That's really
interesting because in the '80s you were hung for such ambitions
and the indie thing really kneecapped rock 'n' roll. I really
hope that there are some great bands that come out of this and go
all the way. If you are shy and you become a potter, you don't
join a rock 'n' roll band. I hope Blur and Oasis take on the
world and fuck up
the mainstream.'
And finally...
Can I have the sunglasses that you wore tonight?
'That's very Elvis of you. Erm, I'm very fond of those. Can I
not just leave you with my art?'
Bono talks a little more about his lyrics which are, he says,
the only place in his life where he is completely honest. He
sidesteps questions on religion: 'I don't really go in for it
myself. I am a believer. But I am a really bad advert.'
And, as through he were playing to 50,000 fans at the nearby
Cardiff Arms Park, he wanders off the stage at one point to kiss
a girl who has offered him a cigarette.
And then he leaves. A hundred fans gather outside waiting for
a glimpse of Bono. Thirty minutes later, they are told that the
singer has already left the building and they shrug their
shoulders and slowly drift away.
'You actally got to see the man himself,' says an enthusiastic
Jackie Harper, from Stoke-On-Trent. 'And it answered a lot of
questions about the band and where they're going,' adds her
friend Julia Pillsbury, from Cannock.
Pat Lynch, from Dublin, who edits U2's Writings On The Wall
fanzine, is more circumspect. 'I thought it was a great gesture.
People think rock stars are inaccessible, then he comes down here
and answers all the questions in a theatre, you know. But it was
curious the way he was distancing himself from the new album, in
case it goes wrong for them. They were using Brian Eno's name
instead of their own.'
The last to leave are Roseanna Marielle, Patricia Mondez
Arielle and a fellow U2 devotee, Christy Voltaliene, 23, who has
flown from Ohio, USA. The four have been allowed to sit in Bono's
limousine by owner Yvonne Bevan and they are in a state of near
hsyteria. 'We have seen him. And I have sat in the place where
Bono sat,' says Arielle.
And what are you doing now?
Voltaliene answers. 'We're flying to Dublin tomorrow. We're
going to track him down. We'll go to his house, the studio, his
club and their hotel. Anywhere.' Voltaliene pauses, then adds:
'I've seen them 12 times and I've met Bono six and I'm still a
nervous wreck. But he's a beautiful man.'
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