April 14, 2005


In the name of love

U2 packs a metaphysical punch in San Jose

By Jeff Baham
Special to the Times

Entering the arena Saturday night with hands and face raised amidst a flurry of brightly colored confetti and a tapestry of lights, Bono seemed to be experiencing his own sort of homecoming. All photos by Ron Stenn, actionphotodesign.com

U2 came to town last weekend, and the town went to U2, which was performing two sold-out shows at the HP Pavilion.

Fans from all over the Bay Area and state—including actor Sean Penn, Google’s Sergey Brin and Larry Page, and Yahoo’s Terry Semel—started gathering as early as 11 a.m. to wait in line to see the band, which finally took the stage at 9 p.m. There was even a line outside the entrance for patrons with reserved seating two hours before the show began, as if the fans simply couldn’t wait any longer to become a part of the evening, whether their seat was already saved or not.

U2 has always made the most of each member’s non-virtuosic talent, and this show demonstrated that fact in close-up detail, with a four-way split video screen and close-up camera that followed each member’s angst, prowess, and performance in artsy sepia tones throughout most of the show.

The Edge’s bell-like chiming, reverberating guitar filled the arena all night.

Late in the show, drummer Larry Mullen, Jr. could be seen concentrating so hard on performing a simple one-hand keyboard melody that it seemed the keys might melt from the pressure, while bassist Adam Clayton played throughout the evening with a calm assurance visible on his face. But this up-close-and-personal video perspective only helped further the notion that U2 is bigger than the sum of its parts; in fact, U2 is likely the best working rock band in the world today, despite its simple melodies and uncomplicated performances.

The passion of Bono is one of the chief components of the band’s success. Entering the arena Saturday night with hands and face raised toward heaven amidst a flurry of brightly colored confetti and a literal tapestry of lights as the band opened the show with “City of Blinding Lights” from the latest offering, “How to Dismantle An Atomic Bomb,” Bono seemed to be experiencing his own sort of homecoming—one he likely experiences each time he walks on stage, after a stunning quarter century raising roofs through passionate anthem-rock with his band mates.

Remembering San Jose
The group noted San Jose’s roll in its earliest success in America, having played a show in a ballroom at San Jose State in the early ‘80s. Bono recalled how “cool” it felt to hear one of U2’s early singles, “The Electric Co.,” on San Jose’s now-defunct KSJO nearly a quarter century ago, as the song was just breaking out.

Bassist Adam Clayton played throughout the evening with a calm assurance.

The Edge’s bell-like chiming, reverberating guitar filled the arena all night, as the band made its way through two solid hours of greatest hits and tracks from the new album. But as every fan knows, U2 is about more than their music. Bono, as political a figure as any rock musician or artist has ever been, is careful to use his fame to push his version of truth out into the world.

At one point, he noted that during the band’s “Popmart” tour, he used to call the White House from the stage each night and they’d never take his calls. “But they do now,” he added wryly. He spent some time asking for the crowd to join with “one million Americans” to support his pet campaign to help fight global AIDS and poverty, using just their voices to communicate the facts and push his agenda forward.

In a moving turn on the Woodstock tradition of holding up lighters, Bono encouraged the audience to hoist their activated cell phones in the dark auditorium, turning the black arena into a glowing galaxy of neon blue stars—a perfect visual message about the power each individual has to make a difference with one act of communication.

Only U2 can play simple anthems with enough power and energy to make even a high-tech show seem stripped-down. Despite long stretches on a sparse, brightly lit stage, the show also featured an amazing descending tapestry of hanging LEDs that acted as a see-through digital video screen and light show, and a face projected into clouds of stage fog recited the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Despite these visual goodies, however, the sonic wallpaper was the focus of the evening.

A papal complex
“All rock stars have a bit of a papal-complex,” Bono claimed early in the show, at first seeming a bit cavalier with the notion. “But John Paul was a pope with a rock-star complex,” he continued, noting the recently deceased Pope’s steadfast dedication to his duty and beliefs. At the most touching moment of the evening, Bono recalled a private audience he had with Pope John Paul II in which he traded his “fly shades” for the Pope’s Crooked Cross pendant, which Bono now carries to each show and wears around his neck every day.

“I may not have believed in everything he believed, but at least… he stood… for something,” Bono said, in perhaps his most emphatic declaration-cum-challenge of the evening.

Closing the show with the metaphysical punch of a master theologian, U2 performed “All Because of You,” “Yahweh,” and “40,” three of the band’s many openly spiritual songs.

“Yahweh,” a folksy song of supplication to the God of the nation’s three largest religions, asks God to “Take this soul/Stranded in some skin and bones/Take this soul/And make it sing.” And “40,” an unlikely fan-favorite based on David’s 40th Psalm from the Old Testament, left the crowd chanting another chorus of supplication to God in unison. “How long/To sing this song?” even after the band left the stage and the lights faded slowly to black.