Dissatisfied with the lackluster career track of other bands its age, and unwilling to become a “top hits” novelty act, U2 redoubled its commitment to produce artistic and meaningful music after How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb but with mixed results. No Line on the Horizon was released in 2009, just a month after the band stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC, with a thrilling performance of “Pride (in the Name of Love)” and “City of Blinding Lights” for the presidential inauguration of Barack Obama. The new album was a complex and imaginative project that fused North African cultural influences, timeless questions about the meaning of life, and a range of fictional stories but received only mediocre commercial success. In support of No Line, the band embarked on the grandest, costliest, and most technically challenging tour audiences had ever seen, shattering stadium attendance records around the world. In doing so, U2—which now included a substantial roster of artistic, technical, and financial advisors and partners—gathered the global tribe through a state-of-the-art concert experience. However, in spite of a record-setting tour, the band members began to doubt their relevancy. Was it possible that Bono, Edge, Adam, and Larry, like so many older artists before them, had become victims of their own fame, fortune, and success?
Unsure of its ability to influence culture, the group searched painstakingly for purpose and place in a world of new media, taking more than five years to release Songs of Innocence in 2014. Both the album and the supporting tour transported fans back to the Ireland of U2’s childhood for an introspective look at the group’s roots while also presenting a critical commentary on current issues. In the process, the band once again inflamed its critics, primarily due to an innovative yet misguided method of record distribution. Nonetheless, U2 emerged older and wiser, unequaled in its accomplishments as a band, with no signs of slowing down as it concluded the fourth decade of its career.
U2’s twelfth album, No Line on the Horizon, continued fostering a spirit of authenticity and intimacy with fans while also showcasing U2’s ability to create sophisticated rock. No Line, however, generated a bit of a paradox for the band. Though its 360° tour attracted record-breaking audiences with the biggest stadium production in the history of rock, the album’s complex music and thoughtful lyrics failed to resonate with the masses.
Coming off of two extremely successful albums, All That You Can’t Leave Behind and How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, U2 approached its next record with a bit of ambivalence, once again seeking to adapt and revise its sound. The rhythm of rebirth certainly must have felt familiar to the band. It had already labored to reinvent itself numerous times: in 1984 with The Unforgettable Fire; again in 1991 with Achtung Baby; and once more with All That You Can’t Leave Behind in 2000. And though the band continued writing and recording new music in the interim following No Line, it wrestled to find a unifying direction. Nowhere was this struggle seen more clearly than in its vacillation between producers. In 2006, two years after Atomic Bomb, U2 set out to revamp its sound with the help of Rick Rubin, the well-known and highly regarded producer of artists such as LL Cool J, Run-DMC, Aerosmith, Johnny Cash, Mick Jagger, Tom Petty, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The collaboration with Rubin was extremely productive, but it also created a problem. The band wasn’t happy with the overall artistic direction he was taking them in and decided to end the relationship, discarding the sessions’ material with the hope that it could be used on a future project.
Choosing instead to restart the creative process, U2 turned yet again to Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois for production assistance. Though work resumed in numerous locations, primary inspiration for No Line came from the team’s trip to Morocco, where it camped out in a riad it had converted to a makeshift studio. For two weeks in 2007, U2, along with Eno and Lanois, enjoyed the exotic sounds of Hindu, Sufi, Joujouka, and Jewish music at the World Sacred Music Festival in the historic city of Fez, prompting them to experiment with North African and Arabic elements. The visit was dynamic and inspiring, resulting in some outstanding recording sessions. Eno described the time as the best studio experience he had ever had. Even Larry, who is usually reserved and prone to more traditional approaches, referred to the weeks in Fez as “the most joyous and liberating part of the whole album process” (O’Hagan, “From Fez to Dublin”). In Morocco, U2 looked to the ancient desert wilderness and moved beyond its own preconceived notions of what it meant to be a modern band.
While the album’s new sound could be traced back, at least in part, to a unique North African culture, No Line’s cover art was also unlike any that U2 had used before. Previous records had typically portrayed either images of the band or photographs and artwork created specifically for each project, relying often on the talents of Anton Corbijn. For No Line, however, the band turned to Hiroshi Sugimoto, a Japanese professional photographer who specialized in abstract seascapes. Boden Sea, the image selected by U2 for its new cover, merged an endless waterscape with an equally boundless skyline and served as an inspiration for the album’s title track. Sugimoto agreed to let U2 use his image but with one stipulation: he would not allow any text to be printed on top of his image. In a creative concession, Steve Averill and AMP Visual, the band’s graphic design agency, included an equal sign superimposed over Sugimoto’s photo on the CD’s cellophane wrapper, further highlighting a balance between earth and sky. For good or for bad, the cerebral nature of the image paralleled the aloof aesthetic of the music, contributing to the artsy impression fans and critics had of the album.
In addition to a unique recording process and sophisticated album artwork, No Line took U2 into new territory in several other ways as well. Breaking with tradition, the band included Eno and Lanois as writing partners, giving them credit for music and lyrics on a majority of the album’s tracks. Bono also modified his songwriting process in an uncharacteristic way, opting to use the perspectives of fictional characters rather than singing about his own life and experiences. The result was a multifaceted group of narratives including a traffic cop, a junkie, and a soldier in Afghanistan, each of whom told stories of life’s joys and heartaches. Compositionally, the structure of the album was as complex as its characters, with instrumentation including a cello, violin, and French horn, as well as African-themed percussion and ambient samples, loops, and synthesizers, many of which were performed by the band’s touring keyboardist Terry Lawless. In addition, rapper and hip-hop artist will.i.am contributed keyboard, vocal, and production skills on one song. Richly layered and densely packed, the tight harmonies, unusual chord progressions, and nontraditional instrumentation all led to what the band considered another experimental album, though not as extreme as those in the 1990s. In the end, No Line suffered from its lack of accessibility, selling little more than a million copies in the United States, with global sales reaching only five million. It was a disappointing outcome for the band.
Though the production of No Line was very distinct from the previous two albums, it did retain a number of thematic similarities. Along with Leave Behind and Atomic Bomb, No Line was a deeply personal album for U2, again asking questions about the purpose and meaning of life. Specifically, the idea of “grace” runs through the three records from 2000 to 2009, uniting a myriad of ideas. “Beautiful Day,” the first track on Leave Behind, references a friend who can “lend a hand in return for grace,” while the last song on the record is an understated lullaby-like blessing, simply and appropriately titled “Grace.” Atomic Bomb picked up the theme in “All Because of You,” with Bono singing, “I was born a child of grace,” and when “City of Blinding Lights” was performed in concert, he often added a tag to the final lyric of the song, shouting, “Grace abounds, grace abounds!” On No Line, the topic comes to the forefront yet again, especially in concert. Opening its shows with “Breathe,” U2 sang, “I’ve found grace inside a sound / I’ve found grace, it’s all that I’ve found” as a type of invocation for record-breaking audiences across the globe. While on the 360° tour, during an introduction for “Where the Streets Have No Name,” Bono would sing from the most famous of all hymns, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me,” and in the concert’s final song, the band concluded an impassioned and stirring arrangement of “Moment of Surrender,” with Bono rapping about grace. As late middle-aged musicians, Adam, Larry, Edge, and Bono conveyed a simple peacefulness about life—even as their music became more complex—exuding graciousness and compassion through both recorded and live performances.
Mirroring the complexity of No Line, U2, guided again by the creative design team of Willie Williams, Catherine Owens, and Mark Fisher, crafted an equally complicated and multifaceted outdoor tour in support of the album. Called the 360° tour, its revolutionary stage design allowed audiences to view the band from all sides and included a number of state-of-the-art technologies. The primary focal point of each show was an enormous circular screen composed of nearly half a million pixels, which could move up and down as well as expand like an accordion fold. Complementing the screen was a groundbreaking sound system that projected the band’s music in 360 degrees to every corner of the stadium. Above the stage, 200 tons of audio and video gear was suspended from a massive 250-ton structure nicknamed “the Claw,” a four-legged girder that looked part spaceship and part gothic cathedral. On the ground, a ramp encircled the entire stage, allowing U2’s members closer contact with the audience, especially with those fans who stood on both sides of the catwalk. Due to its unprecedented size, tech crews needed days to both set up and tear down the structure. In order to keep the tour moving quickly, three separate Claws were used, allowing U2’s crew to simultaneously assemble or disassemble the stage in different venues while the band played in another. The reconfigured seating, which allowed fans to occupy the field and nearly all of the seats of a stadium, helped the 360° tour break attendance records in a majority of the venues to which it traveled and shattered ticket receipt records, selling out at every stop.
But as U2 toured, it faced a new kind of controversy unrelated to its musical style or thematic content. With 360° in high gear, environmentalists criticized U2 for the massive carbon footprint it was leaving on the planet. They asserted that the band’s mission to end AIDS, fight poverty, and care for the earth was at odds with the carbon dioxide emissions generated by the unparalleled transportation needs of the tour, requiring 120 trucks for each of the Claws, a private jet for the band, and travel accommodations for nearly 200 crew members. In response, U2 began purchasing carbon offsets and facilitating carpools for fans in some cities. Still, protests in its home town of Dublin, as well as a stinging critique from Talking Heads’ David Byrne, left U2 scrambling to defend itself in a culture increasingly concerned about the impact of global warming.
The 360° tour carried No Line’s message of grace to North America, Europe, Oceania, Africa, and South America but also focused specifically on a number of global themes. Making use of the stage’s science fiction–like appearance, U2 used the metaphor of a spaceship throughout its show, walking onto the stage while David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” was playing and exiting each stadium to Elton John’s “Rocket Man.” In the middle, concerts featured one of several prerecorded segments in which astronauts delivered messages from the International Space Station (ISS)—either the ISS crew holding up signs reading “The future needs a big kiss,” astronaut Frank De Winne reciting a verse from “In a Little While,” or astronaut Mark Kelly introducing “Beautiful Day.” The Kelly video was especially poignant as he greeted his wife, Gabrielle Giffords, a US congressional representative who was recovering from a gunshot wound to the head, a consequence of a failed assassination attempt. In a second prerecorded video sequence, a jubilant Archbishop Desmond Tutu promoted the ONE campaign by both congratulating fans for their role in reducing the amount of AIDS cases in Africa and encouraging them to continue the global fight to eliminate poverty and preventable disease. A third meaningful moment came when U2 performed “Walk On” and featured images of the jailed Burmese political dissident Aung San Suu Kyi. In an unexpected twist, midway through the 360° tour, Suu Kyi was released from nearly fifteen years of house arrest, transforming the song from a plea for her freedom into a celebration of life.
But perhaps the greatest contribution to a global conversation came during U2’s performance of “Sunday Bloody Sunday.” Using a blend of music, lyrics, lighting, and imagery, the song took on new meaning, challenging fans around the world to remember the plight of Iranian activists recently jailed or killed by their government. As a Middle Eastern chant wailed through the sound system and Persian text scrolled across the screen, the words of Rumi, a thirteenth-century Sufi mystic, descended on audiences with the full weight of the 450-ton stage. “Listen!” cried the ancient poet in a lament for his native Persia—modern-day Afghanistan and Iran. Then, as the screen displayed men, women, and children protesting the corrupt Iranian election of 2009, floodlights drenched the stage and audience in green, honoring the peaceful demonstrations of nonviolent protesters, an uprising that became known worldwide as the Green Movement. U2’s message of love and solidarity was inescapable as the band stood squarely with imprisoned, disenfranchised, and oppressed people living under the hand of a brutal dictator. “Tonight, we can be as one,” sang Bono at the Rose Bowl in Los Angeles, uniting Americans, Iranians, and the world.
A tour the size and scope of the 360° tour required massive support, including a couple of new commercial affiliations that set precedents for the band. Prior to the tour, U2 signed a twelve-year contract with Live Nation, giving the promoter command of its concert scheduling, sponsoring, merchandising, and web management. It was the first time the franchise had released control of such essential operations to an outside agency. A second deal brought a sponsorship by BlackBerry to the tour, reversing a lucrative relationship with Apple and giving the appearance that U2 and the computer giant were at odds with one another. For some fans and onlookers, the tour sponsorship was a further indication that the band had sold out. Undeniably, concertgoers couldn’t miss a broad range of promotional material bearing the caption “U2 360° Presented by BlackBerry,” as well as giant banners displaying the corporate sponsor’s name at venues. In addition, the accompanying “Blackberry Loves U2” advertising campaign offered a “U2 Mobile Album” that would revolutionize the listening experience for a digital age, a promise that never fully developed (and an album that many BlackBerry users clamored to have removed from their devices). Nonetheless, already a substantial brand, U2 continued to expand its image through business sponsorships.
Aside from innovative business partnerships, the U2 organization also developed an unprecedented network of professional relationships and personal friendships over three decades, resulting in a franchise that felt more like a family than a corporate monolith. Some of the most creative and talented people in the music industry had been with the team from the beginning, contributing to the group’s formation and eventual success. Paul McGuinness, U2’s manager, has been considered by many as the fifth member of the band. Arguably, he was the seminal influence on the adolescent musicians, serving as a pioneering visionary, a caring guide, and a protective guardian. His company, Principle Management, flourished alongside the ever-growing franchise, operating as the band’s only management agency until 2013 when McGuinness retired. Though he kept a low profile, his fatherly concern, efficient leadership, and intuitive business sense transformed an unknown quartet from Dublin into international superstars. Savvy and wise, McGuinness scrutinized contracts, negotiated record deals, and defended the band’s right to intellectual property, always looking out for the best interests of his four clients, a rare posture in the music industry of the 1970s and 1980s. His influence cannot be understated. It’s hard to imagine what U2 would be like today without McGuinness’s thirty-five years of consistent and passionate supervision.
Other influential members of the U2 organization can also be traced to the early days. Back in 1978, still in its infancy and barely able to play instruments, U2 hired another longtime associate. Joe O’Herlihy built and ran the band’s sound systems for gigs in bars and clubs throughout Ireland and the United Kingdom, eventually signing on as one of the first permanent crew members in 1980 for the Boy tour. He has mixed sound on every tour since. Another pioneering member of the U2 community was Dennis Sheehan. Beginning in 1982, Sheehan worked as the tour manager for the band’s stage shows, often intervening when Bono placed himself in some precarious situation. It was Sheehan who rescued the front man when he plunged into the audience or climbed perilously up towering scaffolds. Tragically, the well-loved tour manager died unexpectedly of a heart attack in his hotel room while traveling with the band in 2015. During a concert the following day, Bono gave an emotional tribute to Sheehan and noted the closeness of the band and crew, saying, “U2 is a kind of family. U2 is a brotherhood. Although there are a lot of sisters in it now that I think about it. The extended family are everything to us, we look after each other. Last night we lost a member of our family. Dennis Sheehan was his name” (“A Kind of Family”). By all accounts, the band had lost one of its most capable and influential crew.
Other members of the U2 team also helped launch the organization. Willie Williams first saw U2 perform in 1981 at Greenbelt, a Christian music festival in England. He began working full time with the band during The Joshua Tree tour in 1987, and has continued to function as its stage, lighting, and multimedia director, contributing groundbreaking technology as well as spiritually charged imagery to U2’s live performances. Bob Koch became the band’s business manager in 1984 and has influenced the organization’s financial practices, especially when the band is touring. A number of technical staff have helped shape the sound of individual U2 members as well: Sam O’Sullivan began as Larry’s drum technician in 1986, Dallas Schoo joined as Edge’s guitar assistant in 1987, and Stuart Morgan became Adam’s bass technician in 1992. Rocko Reedy filled the role of stage manager beginning in 1990, providing oversight for details of safety and production. Steve Averill, though not an official staff member, worked repeatedly with the band as a consulting graphic designer, helping with the cover art for every U2 studio album to date. Martin Wroe, a figure who has played multiple roles including journalist, editor for Propaganda (the fan club publication), U2.com editor, poet, Greenbelt contributor, and most recently, spiritual advisor, continues with the band as another longtime influence. Jack Heaslip, one of U2’s most inspirational partners, met the band members when they were teenagers. There from the beginning, Heaslip was both a teacher and a counselor at Mount Temple and an especially important confidant for Bono after he lost his mother. Later, Heaslip served as a mentor to the band and officiated at Bono’s wedding, eventually becoming the group’s “traveling pastor,” providing spiritual care for hundreds of crew members while on tour. His death in 2015 was another unexpected blow to those who had come to love and revere him. U2’s hiring practices reflected its mission to be an organization that stood in contrast to the rest of the industry and included people who functioned both as family members and specialists. Many have spent decades, if not entire careers, in the studio or on the road with the band. But as unique as U2’s employment priorities have been, there was another area of staffing that set the franchise apart from all others.
While U2 was setting industry standards through album production and concert tours, it also broke ground in an unlikely area: the hiring of women in important and influential positions. At the band’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2005, Bono summed up the importance of females in the organization, specifically honoring them for their influence and expertise. He reflected,
I see around friends and people that we’ve worked with for a very long time. . . . It’s too many people in the room to thank, but I’d like to thank the really gorgeous women that work for us. Because they’re fun to thank. Beautiful, gorgeous women of Principle Management. Ellen Darst, thank you very much. Sheila Roche, thank you very much. Anne Louise Kelly, thank you very much. Keryn Kaplan, thank you very much. Beautiful, sexy, sometimes Irish, sometimes American women, thank you. (U2, “Transcript”)
The comments about the women Bono mentioned weren’t offered as sexist or patronizing remarks but as deeply personal acknowledgments of jobs well done. Indeed, these and other women had worked hard in key roles throughout most of U2’s career.
At just nineteen years old, Suzanne Doyle was hired by Principle Management to work on The Joshua Tree tour. The subsequent nine years she spent with U2 were exciting and formative, giving her multiple opportunities to develop leadership skills that would later be used in other careers. Doyle recalls her time as a management assistant with fondness, saying, “Bono and Paul McGuinness are two of the finest mentors you could have” (Byrne, “Rock ’n’ Roll Graduates”). Well known for his efficiency and exacting standards, it was McGuinness’s attention to detail that particularly shaped Doyle’s own administrative prowess. She eventually moved up in the organization and spent another three years as Bono and Ali’s personal assistant, handling confidential correspondence, organizing special gatherings, coordinating Bono’s speeches, and arranging charity events. Starting as a young and impressionable teen, Doyle progressed through the ranks, was allowed to cultivate her own interests and abilities, and ultimately started her own consultant agency.
In the mid-1980s, soon after founding Principle Management, Paul McGuinness hired another powerful young female who helped shape U2’s destiny. Working through several different roles, Sheila Roche was promoted in 1997 to managing director, a prominent position that left her in charge of the band’s day-to-day management. Working closely with U2, it was her job to represent the concerns of the band to Principle Management and vice versa. After eighteen years of functioning as a trusted advisor and confidant, Roche resigned and began a new venture helping Bono and Bobby Shriver launch the (RED) AIDS organization in 2005. Since then, she has directed all of (RED)’s major campaigns, organized collaborations of electronic musicians for the DANCE (RED) SAVES LIVES project, curated a groundbreaking auction that raised $44 million for the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, and led many other humanitarian efforts, serving most recently as the head of global communications for (RED). Innovative and pioneering, Roche recognizes the importance of new media and technology for relaying vital messages about global poverty, saying,
Social media has given us the ability to broadcast to an audience of up to 350 million when you combine (RED)’s social networks with those of our partners. . . . We can get to a lot of eyeballs when we create smart content and compelling ways for people to get involved, spread the word, and raise money. (“Advocate of the Week”)
A person of remarkable influence and authority, Roche continues to reflect the values and spirit of the band and management company that gave her a job and launched her into a career of activism.
Another influential woman, Regine Moylett, was there at the beginning and can be credited for U2’s image in both direct and indirect ways. In the late 1970s, she operated the only punk shop in Ireland, a place where Bono and his friends would buy trendy clothing. She also had her own punk band (the New Versions) and gigged in the same circles as the upcoming U2. More importantly, however, Moylett was instrumental in organizing outdoor concerts behind Dublin’s Dandelion Market. It was there that U2 honed its stage performances in front of packed Saturday afternoon crowds—mostly other teenagers who were not old enough to hear U2 play in bars—in the summer of 1979. Little did she know that this series of free concerts would help the young band gain a loyal fan base, increased media attention, and a recording contract for its first mini-album, U2-3. Soon after, Moylett’s love for music and aptitude for administration landed her a job with Island Records, where she refined her skills and developed strong ties in the music industry. In 1986, encouraged by Bono, the twenty-eight-year-old began to look after U2’s tour publicity. When The Joshua Tree tour launched a year later, she became its full-time press liaison. Always exhibiting “a quality of kindness, thoughtfulness and consideration rare in [the] business,” according to journalist Neil McCormick, Moylett advanced quickly, earning a reputation for being committed and tenacious, as well as warm and humorous (McCormick, Killing Bono, 358). Today, her company, RMP, handles all of U2’s publicity needs, directly shaping the band’s image on a global scale.
The Dandelion Market was home to yet another longtime U2 associate. Catherine Owens, the bassist for the Boy Scoutz, an all-female punk band managed by Steve Averill, became friends with Adam Clayton, as her group played often at the outdoor summer venue. When her musical career fizzled out, Owens went to art school in Belfast but remained in touch with the members of U2. Sharing a love for art, music, politics, and activism, she began collaborating with the band while it recorded The Unforgettable Fire, painting a series of inspiring backdrops for the rehearsal hall. But it was in 1992 that Owens really took the lead as artistic director, creating complex screen graphics, painting Trabants, and influencing the whole look of the Zoo TV set. The first of many projects, she continued to contribute animation, film, video, and other key graphic content for the PopMart, Elevation, Vertigo, and 360° tours, as well as codirecting U2 3D, the groundbreaking three-dimensional cinematic release of the Vertigo tour, blending music and art at every step. Since 2010, Owens has gone on to work with other musicians and film projects, becoming a widely respected and internationally known visual content creator and artist.
In many ways, the Owens-U2 relationship is emblematic of professional partnerships in the franchise, often starting with a friendship in the band’s formative years, then nurturing the development of a skill, and culminating in a trusted and thoughtful collaboration that lasts for decades. Owens sums it up by saying,
Even as kids, we had a sophisticated agenda. Everyone knew they wanted to work in areas where no compromise was the order of the day. That’s [U2’s] great strength. That driving force is the same with all of us. It’s taken us this long to trust that all of our talents can develop separately, but still work comfortably together. (Clarke, “How Did U2 That?”)
In similar ways, other notable women have also played key roles in U2’s inner circle. Cecilia Coffey—Larry’s older sister—has worked with Principle Management since the beginning, often opening and responding personally to the band’s mail in the early years. Ellen Darst and Keryn Kaplan headed the agency’s New York office, while Anne Louise Kelly ran the headquarters in Dublin, all longtime associates who had foundational roles.
In “Get on Your Boots,” a song from No Line, Bono sings, “Women of the future hold the big revelations,” a lyric affirming and acknowledging the need for feminine leadership and perspective. U2’s inclusion of women in long-standing, high-level management and artistic positions is yet another indication of the band’s commitment to operate outside the music industry’s status quo. Early on, band members realized they could be advocates for women’s rights, even headlining a benefit show in 1978 called Rock against Sexism. Gender equality continued to permeate and shape the band, becoming a unifying theme across its long career. In 2005, while working on the Vertigo tour, Catherine Owens reflected on why partnerships with females are paramount to U2: “As a woman, one of the things I bring is some feminine perspective. As Willie Williams, the show director says, I am constantly reminding everybody that there needs to be some arcs and circles” (Mulrooney, “Vertigo Vision”). As Bono closed a concert at Slane Castle on the Elevation tour, he echoed a similar sentiment, saying, “I want to thank Paul McGuinness our manager. I want to thank Principle Management, all the women and men—mostly women—who wrote the show for us” (U2 Go Home). Without a doubt, in the broad network of the ever-expanding U2 family, professional partnerships and personal relationships converged to create a completely new business model, due in part to a forward-thinking manager and the talented cadre of women he and U2 employed.
As U2 wrapped up the most elaborate and complex concert tour the world had ever seen, it had much to be proud of. But it also faced a dilemma. On the one hand, it had become a monolith unlike any band in the history of rock, with unprecedented financial earnings, a massive corporate staff, and seemingly unlimited production resources. On the other hand, the band struggled, once again, to find a way forward, stymied by its own popularity and success. Bono even joked during the long, silent gap after No Line that the band’s new album would be titled, “Ten Reasons to Exist,” a facetious admission that U2 was wandering without direction or purpose. To look at U2 from the outside, the casual fan would see only what every band dreamed of achieving: a massive discography, record-breaking ticket sales, an international fan base, corporate partnerships, and a lavishly successful investment portfolio. But when asked about the challenge of sustaining a thirty-plus-year career, Bono confessed, “We were trying to figure out, ‘Why would anyone want another U2 album?’ And then we said, ‘Well, why would we want one?’ . . . We felt like we were on the verge of irrelevance.” (Newman, “9 Biggest Revelations”). Ironically, as the band searched for a new and progressive sound, it ultimately found inspiration in its roots.
U2 explored a number of options as it navigated the biggest identity crisis of its career before it finally released Songs of Innocence. Even while stumbling through artistic limbo, however, the band was productive, working on at least four recording projects after it packed up the 360° tour. One involved a collection of meditative and reflective modern-day psalms. Tentatively labeled Songs of Ascent, it was intended to be a companion piece to No Line, potentially including some abandoned material from the Atomic Bomb sessions with Rick Rubin. The band, however, felt the concept might be a bit artsy for the general public and shelved it indefinitely, still aching from the underwhelming sales of No Line. A second endeavor was a record of straight up rock ’n’ roll, but the band thought it too was irrelevant and left it unfinished. Described as a “club-sounding album” by Bono, a potential third project featured dance mixes, but again it didn’t feel like the right fit for a new release. A possible fourth album involved rerecording an original Broadway soundtrack—a wildly creative and remarkably ambitious score by half of U2.
Never content to sit still, Bono and Edge had earlier forged a unique but controversial artistic venture on Broadway, partnering with Julie Taymor to create Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark. Taymor, the celebrated director of the stage musical The Lion King and the first woman to win a Tony Award for directing, was responsible for Spider-Man’s story development, while Bono and Edge wrote the music and lyrics. Initially a productive and creative collaboration, the relationship soured as the show suffered from continual delays, poor reviews, high costs, and numerous technical difficulties, resulting in Taymor’s dismissal and a residual court battle. The strained relationship was just one of many problems that plagued Spider-Man. An extravagant mixture of music, drama, technical stunts, and aerial acrobatics, the show was infamous for having the longest preview period and being the most expensive production in Broadway theater history. And though its visual effects were often praised, critics had little good to say about the story line and musical score. Spider-Man also kept Bono and Edge busy before and throughout the 360° tour, often requiring their urgent input during its troubled production phase, which included rewrites, crew injuries, and cast replacements. Despite its many failings, the show had popular appeal and ticket sales were strong, breaking box office records in the first week. The momentum, however, was not enough to offset the excessive expenses, and the extravagant show closed less than four years after its opening in 2011. With relatively limited success, Spider-Man was a grand and risky experiment in theater arts for Bono and Edge but ultimately may have contributed to U2’s overall sense of insecurity and irrelevance.
Though plagued equally by distractions and doubt, the band finally found its focus by turning to its past. Songs of Innocence, U2’s thirteenth studio album, was released in 2015, five and a half years after No Line, marking the longest period between albums. A combination of multiple producers including Danger Mouse, Paul Epworth, Ryan Tedder, Declan Gaffney, and Flood, Innocence went through numerous iterations before U2 was satisfied and felt it was good enough to release. The title of the album was inspired by a pair of William Blake’s eighteenth-century masterpieces, Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience, a collection of poetry and etchings contrasting the simplicity of childhood (innocence) with the harsh reality of adulthood (experience). Blake is no stranger to U2. Author Tassoula Kokkoris notes, “The band’s history with this collection of poems goes all the way back to the late ’80s, when they recorded the song ‘Beautiful Ghost/Introduction to Songs of Experience,’ taking the lyrics directly from Blake’s Introduction to Songs of Experience” (Kokkoris, “William Blake”). As a fan of literature, Bono has cited other influences on U2’s music, including W. B. Yeats, Oscar Wilde, John Donne, Emily Dickinson, T. S. Elliot, C. S. Lewis, and Salman Rushdie.
U2’s Innocence became an exploration of its own beginning, reflecting on early musical heroes such as the Ramones and the Clash, as well as band members’ families and other youthful events. Several of the songs portray a wide-eyed and excitable adolescent band discovering its purpose, as it was fueled equally by idealism and adrenaline. More specifically, Bono recalls the pain of losing his mother, as well as the fear that came from growing up on North Dublin’s Cedarwood Road. Closer to a concept album than any other of U2’s productions, its theme of youthful innocence harkened back to the band’s very first record, even echoing Boy’s cover art, this time with Larry hugging the waist of his own shirtless son.
While the theme of childhood was plainly and beautifully portrayed on Innocence, it was made even clearer in concert. The Innocence + Experience tour, launched in 2015, used cutting-edge technology to tell the story of U2’s earliest years, blending music, choreography, graphics, and lighting in a spectacular presentation that felt more like a Broadway musical than a rock concert. Designed exclusively for arenas, the main stage sat at one end of the floor, connected to a circular “e-stage” (“e” for “experience”) at the other end by a long ramp. Hanging above the walkway was a first-of-its-kind dual-sided LED screen—a type of long video cage the band could enter and which would allow them to interact with coordinated video images. Willie Williams, the show’s creative director, referred to it as the “screen-stage-bridge-lighting object,” saying it was the centerpiece of the concert. Set designer Es Devlin noted the formidable presence of the screen, as well as her hope that it would still evolve as an important artistic medium, commenting, “The rock show is an art form. . . . [W]e have created this powerful sculpture in the arena and are barely using forty-nine percent of its forces” (O’Hagan, “Imaginary Spaces”). The two stages, ramp, and screen created four separate areas where U2 could perform, each accenting a different theme of the concert. The innovative screen and stage were supported by a revolutionary sound system that hung from the ceiling at the middle of the arena, distributing sound equally to all sides. Williams summed up the plot of the tour as “the story of four teenagers growing up in ’70s Dublin looking out of their bedroom windows and trying to figure out how they fit into the often violent and disrupted world outside” (Sandberg, “Willie Williams”). And though the Troubles were never mentioned during the show, it was clear that the three-decade period of violence was deeply intertwined in the story. The band also incorporated brand-new live streaming technology in its shows, inviting an audience member up onto the e-stage to broadcast the performance of a song, such as “Elevation,” to the world via the Meerkat smartphone app. In a similar way, some fans used the popular Periscope platform to stream whole concerts, while others watched on devices and computers from home.
As the show progressed from the “innocence” of U2’s childhood to the “experience” of its seasoned years, the band also addressed some urgent contemporary issues. In North America, the focus of “Bullet the Blue Sky” shifted from military conflict in El Salvador to ongoing violence against African Americans in the United States. In 2013, social movements such as Black Lives Matter began to protest and call attention to a long string of high-profile cases involving police brutality against the African American population. U2 addressed this injustice as part of a larger overarching theme of “surrender” in the concert. Prompted by the suspicious deaths of a number of unarmed black men—Trayvon Martin in Miami Gardens, Florida; Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri; Walter Scott in North Charleston, South Carolina; and Freddie Gray in Baltimore, Maryland—Bono concluded “Bullet” by shouting, “I got my hands up . . . Don’t shoot . . . I can’t breathe!” The last phrase was an obvious reference to the choking death and the final words of Eric Garner in New York City at the hands of police. Visuals on the massive screen overhead complemented the chaos of the musical score by displaying scenes of civil unrest and racially charged protests.
When the tour moved to Europe, the uniquely American segment was replaced with a series of songs focusing on the mass migration of refugees fleeing North Africa and the Middle East. In 2015, more than half a million Syrians, Afghans, and Iraqis crossed the Mediterranean Sea into Southeastern Europe in an attempt to escape war in their home countries, creating the largest refugee crisis since World War II. While some traveled across land, most took the more direct route across the treacherous sea, a voyage that often ended in death. In one high-profile instance, the lifeless body of three-year-old Alan (Aylan) Kurdi washed up on a beach in Turkey. He, his five-year-old brother, and his mother drowned when their small dingy capsized. Ironically, they were from Kobani, the bombed-out village captured in drone video and displayed on the screen during U2’s chilling rendition of “October.” The image of little Aylan was broadcast around the world, heightening media attention and even prompting Bono to change a lyric in “Pride (in the Name of Love)” from “one man” to “one boy washed up on an empty beach.” During the “Bullet” sequence, Bono challenged the prevailing fear of Syrian refugees—many Europeans worried that an influx of Syrians would increase the likelihood of terrorist activities in their countries—by taking on the character of a refugee himself, pleading from the stage: “I’m a boy. I’m not dangerous. I’m in danger.” The segment was a poignant call for action to welcome the refugees. Bono continued by asking audiences, “What do you want? A Europe with its heart and borders closed to mercy? Or a Europe with its heart open?” (“U2 Use Concert”). As the Twitter hashtag #RefugeesWelcome filled the screen, U2 demonstrated once again the same passion for justice it had started with nearly forty years earlier. Coming full circle, the band that had been shaped by the violence of the Troubles was now shouting a message of peace through a bullhorn to hundreds of thousands of Europeans, both reflecting and affecting the culture it inhabited.
Sold out at every stop, Innocence + Experience became another in a long series of successful record-breaking and innovative U2 tours. But it didn’t come without problems. Undoubtedly, one of the greatest missteps of the band’s career happened during the distribution of Songs of Innocence. In a lavishly staged media event, U2 joined Apple’s CEO Tim Cook for a press conference, surprising and delighting fans with a live performance of “The Miracle (of Joey Ramone).” In the spectacle that followed, Bono and Cook touched index fingers together, simulating the push of a virtual button and actually releasing the new album to over five hundred million iTunes users around the globe. But while fans were elated at the gift, not everyone was happy. Critics immediately responded with unexpected animosity, citing the oft-heard charge of “sell out,” but this time adding a much stronger condemnation related to the mode of distribution. Charging the Apple/U2 collaboration with invasion of privacy, the automatically downloaded album was equated with spam, junk mail, and corporate hacking. The problem was so widely reported in the media that Apple had to create a dedicated webpage instructing users on how to remove the record from their devices, and U2 issued sheepish apologies, blaming the blunder on its own overenthusiasm for the new album. Despite the criticism, the record was generally received well by music critics, with some giving it their highest praise for the band’s ability to reflect on and tell the story of its own birth with creativity and emotion.
In another unusual step, “Song for Someone,” a quintessential U2 song distributed as one of the three singles from Innocence, was also released as four different videos. The first was from a compilation called Films of Innocence and featured the artist Mode 2 painting a mural filled with hopeful scenes on a city wall in Omagh, Northern Ireland. A second video was a short film directed by Vincent Haycock starring Woody Harrelson as a convict on the day of his release from the penitentiary. As the soon-to-be ex-con takes his final walk across the grounds and through the prison gates to freedom, he appears to be filled with fear and anxiety, not joy, as he prepares to meet his daughter in the parking lot. A third video for the song featured scenes of Bono falling to earth, floating through water, and drifting across the stars, in a symbolic exploration of good and evil by director Matt Mahurin. A fourth video for “Song for Someone” used cutting-edge technology in collaboration with Apple and the revolutionary Vrse app to create a 360-degree, three-dimensional interactive experience. Viewed through Google Cardboard headsets, viewers are immersed in a combination of scenes that begin on the e-stage of U2’s tour staging and then progress to different sites around the world, resulting in a stunning, immersive encounter unlike any rock music video before.
In 2015, while preparing for and launching the unique Innocence + Experience tour, the band experienced a number of personal setbacks. The death of Jack Heaslip, U2’s spiritual advisor, in February left an emotional hole for many in the organization. Then in May, Larry’s father died, taking Larry away from eleventh-hour rehearsals in Vancouver to attend the funeral in Dublin just a day before the start of the tour. And Dennis Sheehan, U2’s longtime and beloved stage manager, died of a heart attack in Los Angeles, only seven shows into the tour, leaving the crew grief stricken. The physical well-being of a couple of band members was further threatened in 2015, as Bono had a serious bike accident requiring extensive surgery and several months of recuperation before the tour’s start, and Edge narrowly escaped injury when he fell off the stage on the tour’s opening night. Innocence + Experience also faced a couple of serious security incidents on its European leg. One of the Stockholm shows was postponed due to a breach that forced police to evacuate the arena—a first in U2’s history. More significantly, the two final concerts in Paris—the first of which was scheduled to be broadcast live on HBO on November 14, 2015—were postponed due to the tragic terrorist attacks in that city on November 13, which left more than a hundred people dead and several hundred injured. As U2 played its Ireland shows just days later, fans organized a “white out” in support of Paris, holding white signs and tweeting with the hashtag #strongerthanfear, a reference to “Raised by Wolves,” a central song on the tour that told Dublin’s own story of a terror-filled past. As “Wolves” concluded, dates and places filled the screen, reminding fans and band alike of the violence during the Troubles that originated on both sides of the Irish border.
U2 finished 2015 by returning to Paris and playing the two rescheduled concerts, one of which was broadcast live on HBO as originally intended. It was a powerful and emotional set of shows for both the audience and U2. Reminiscent of the band’s role in New York City after 9/11, the names of victims scrolled across the giant LED screen at the end of “City of Blinding Lights.” And on the final night in Paris—and the last show of the tour leg—Bono, Edge, Larry, and Adam exited the stage, surrendering the arena to the Eagles of Death Metal, the musical group that had been performing in a crowded theater where most of the deaths had occurred just three weeks earlier. It was a tremendous moment of gracious humility on the part of U2.
In returning to the city of its childhood innocence, U2 brought with it the experience—both through joy and pain—of a lifelong career. In concert, Bono had often asked a rhetorical question, “What do you want?” and then, playing the part of a desperate refugee, would answer, “I want a place called home!” In a sense, U2’s wanderings for nearly four decades had taken them back to the one thing they had committed to from the beginning: the city of Dublin was still their home, and it was there that they intended to compile Songs of Experience, the seasoned complement to Innocence and the continuing tale of four late middle-aged artists reflecting on a well-lived musical journey.
Deeply shaken by the relative failure of its No Line project, U2 emerged from the record-breaking 360° tour confused and ambivalent about its future. Bono summarized, “We’ll find out if we’re irrelevant. I’m perfectly prepared for people to try and blow us off the stage. We’re just not going to make it easy” (Newman, “9 Biggest Revelations”). In an attempt to stay relevant, the band produced its most personal album, Songs of Innocence, by revisiting the story of its younger days. With the supporting tour’s focus on smaller-arena audiences, an intimate story line, and engaging technology, the band felt as close as it ever had been to its fans. Well into their midfifties, the members of U2 appeared to be a long way from retirement, still ready to engage and shape the world in which they lived. Edge made this especially clear, saying, “We don’t want to ever be a heritage act. It might happen, but we’ll go kicking and screaming into that mode. We feel the place for us to be is part of the conversation of contemporary culture and music and film and everything else” (Espen, “U2 Interview”). Not ready to rest on the success of a massive discography, a dazzling array of hit singles, groundbreaking tours, and countless awards, as well as an impressive history of activist engagement in local and global causes, U2 seemed to think that some of its best work was still to come.