Every U2 album since the vastly underrated Zooropa has suffered from a lack of cohesive direction, or rather, a Big Idea. Pop, while having a Big Idea felt (and in fact was) fragmentary and undercooked. All That You Can’t Leave Behind was a bit bare bones and trite in some areas, and How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb slightly “surface-y”. The last two albums (All That You Can’t Leave Behind and How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb) have had some authentically spectacular moments – “Beautiful Day”, “Kite”, “City of Blinding Lights”, “Miracle Drug” – but have occasionally felt like U2 Lite. To put a finer point on it; while one of the enormous strengths of earlier U2 albums had been in the prose of Bono’s lyrics, on All That You Can’t Leave Behind and How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb the lyrics seemed somewhat forced, arbitrary and painted in broad strokes. The focus (at least lyrically) appeared to be outward, concerned with world issues, while classics like Achtung Baby and The Joshua Tree were unmistakably pointed inward. No Line On the Horizon then, is clearly the finest set of U2 lyrics penned since Achtung Baby.
Self-titled opener “No Line On The Horizon” melds the riff from “The Fly” with the glide and bounce of “Zooropa”. The entire record in fact, has a sort of “hover and soar” feeling to it. Musically it is shimmery and ethereal, while vocally Bono quickly reasserts himself as THE PREMIERE VOCALIST IN ROCK N ROLL. I’ve often said that Bono could make you cry by singing the listings in the phonebook, and this album (and title track) boldly reassert this claim. The song itself features an odd sort of hovering feeling that U2 previously dipped into on the (vastly underrated) Passengers Soundtrack Vol. 1. and again, Zooropa. This is territory that U2 has treaded before, but never quite in this way – it really establishes the thematic regions of the entire album.
“Magnificent” follows, and feels like a leftover from War (and I mean that in a good way). The Edge has not jangled like this since the early eighties, dusting off a particular color in his palette that he alone owns, and the result is thrilling. The application of said jangle has seemed to unlock 1982 Bono as well, as he has not sang this open throated since taking his first vocal lessons post-Unforgettable Fire. (I swear I was wiping the rain off my forehead from Red Rocks just listening to this). It is at this point that Larry Mullen Jr. and Adam Clayton truly begin to impress – surely there is no better rhythm section in rock. Their interplay is sexy without being cheesy, a genuine push and pull, back and forth. The bass line itself sounds like Clayton left it behind in 1983 and rediscovered it only now, adding the “swing” to it that he has mastered in the years between. But it is the little things that make this a justly illustrious album, and one of those little things is the particular off beat on the bass drum that Mullen Jr. stomps here; an emotional thud of emphasis, as impactful as any lyric or melody. This has to be the only rhythm section in rock that can put a lump in your throat. Needless to say, this is intensely strong, strong stuff.
“Moment of Surrender” clocks in at almost seven and a half minutes, and sweeps through unidentified territory, both musically and lyrically. However, this is the first evidence (often repeated throughout the album) of an original and innovative interaction amongst band members – often it sounds as not only the Edge and Bono are singing together, but perhaps Clayton, Mullen, Lanois, and Eno are all singing in unison, and the effect is startling. It almost feels like gospel (surely an Eno influence) in a genuine sense, as opposed to the blue eyed soul of say, “Stuck In A Moment”). The song was composed in one long, spur of the moment improvisation (like “Elvis Presley and America”, one of my favorite tracks in the U2 canon), but never feels like it. It also recalls “Heaven and Hell”, an unreleased track from the Achtung Baby sessions.
This gospel effect truly becomes manifest in the “Dear Prudence-ish” “Unknown Caller”. The Edge jangles away again, but the group singing moves into awe-inspiring terrain. It also features the first proper solo by The Edge in a very long time, and brightly recalls George Harrison in its lucidity and mysticism (not often can you describe a solo as “spiritual”, but this one unmistakably is). The first time I heard this song I was driving down the highway, and it affected me so profoundly I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, and I didn’t even know why exactly. This is what U2 does – they move you, they make you swoon. Often U2 (sometimes appropriately) are criticized for being bombastic or self-important, but the bottom line is that whatever their methodology, it works. I can think of no other band (save Sigur Ros, but that is a horse of a different color) that can affect a listener, or an audience like U2 can.
Previous to hearing the album I was a bit worried about the song “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” due to the awful, awful name. However, the song is tremendous, and very Achtung Baby. The Edge’s playing here, and on the entire album for that matter, seems drawn from the same well that produced “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” and “Where The Streets Have No Name”. There is a sort of tribal, transcendent feeling to the entire album, yet in a distinctive way than previous territories of enlightenment U2 have mined before.
A couple of semi-straight ahead rock songs follow in current single “Get On Your Boots” and “Stand Up Comedy”. Both songs make sense in the context of the album, taking on spirituality, sex, and terrorism (now who else would have the guts to do that?). While “Get On Your Boots” features an awesomely crunchy garage riff, the song seems a bit thin in comparison to the rest of the album. Perhaps these two will grow on me more, but for now they are clearly the weakest links here (though again, when listened to as part of the whole album, feel totally necessary and correct).
“Fez – Being Born” is all over the place; huge musical/melodic shifts occur several times. Yet the “float” is again present, a sort of musical “highness” that Coldplay would kill starving villagers to achieve; yet U2 do it with the appearance of effortlessness. The song is beautiful, and (here’s that word again) is truly transcendent. This is thrilling stuff to any longtime U2 fan. “White As Snow” is sparse, with odd production (atmospherics lofting about while crudely mic-ed guitar sit beside one another – it just occurred to me that this is an easy way to describe the Eno/Lanois partnership). Gorgeous, and unlike anything U2 has done before.
“Breathe” stomps in, a glam-rock monster. It’s thrillingly huge U2 as only they can be. However, in the past Bono might have used a big rock song such as this as an opportunity to put together comic book style, over the top lyrics, but here, it is emotionally heartbreaking and staggeringly moving.
The album features a palpable sense of spirituality, and importantly, mystery. These are the most “mysterious” songs as a set since Zooropa, and certainly since “If You Wear That Velvet Dress” from over a decade ago. Densely atmospheric, this is one of the finest produced U2 albums ever, a fact that is remarkable considering the album sessions began with Rick Rubin and were completed with mainstays Brian Eno, Daniel Lanois, and Steve Lillywhite. The production here is magnificent, be it the intimate mix of “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” which recalls the colourful desperation in past classics such as “Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses” or “So Cruel”. It’s the atmospheric mix that moves this album into distinctive territory, and instantly brings into focus what has been missing from the last few albums; Bono’s voice in particular has been mixed, as a pop singer would be, sitting directly on top of the music, smoothed out and easily palatable. But on No Line On The Horizon Bono’s vocal seems raw, very “dry”, and honest, and serve as a reminder of his inimitable vocal prowess.
Evidently U2 have tuned into an exclusive wavelength here, some strange frequency that they have never discovered before. I am bewitched (bewitched is the correct term, as the album plainly works some peculiar enchantment on the listener) by this record, as I did not expect it (or any album, by anyone) to reach the heights it so effortlessly soars to. There is an unusual magic to No Line On The Horizon, a reverent sense of spirituality and transcendence that a band as old a U2 have no earthly right being able to conjure at this late hour in their career. The expanded, lengthy sessions employed to create No Line On The Horizon now make sense as clearly a strange breeze has swept U2 in it’s wake, taking them to undiscovered territories. The fact that U2 were intelligent enough to follow this feeling (as Bono described in “Mysterious Ways”) rather than attempt to direct the flow of the river into more radio friendly units is astonishing, and laudable of admiration in itself.
None of these songs sound like hits, but make no mistake No Line On The Horizon is U2’s third masterpiece. I cannot believe I am saying this, but I agree wholeheartedly with Rolling Stone. This is a startlingly gorgeous and unique album that is an equal to The Joshua Tree and Achtung Baby in it’s scope, quality of songwriting, and sheer ability to move the listener. Though not in need of accolades or confirmation of status, No Line On The Horizon firmly positions U2 in a nearly peerless position in the history of rock and roll. An instant classic.
The Verdict: 4 out of 5 stars. (Ed. Note - this post has been updated 8/12/09)
PS - Of course Pitchfork hates it - they are too interested in being cool to really care about good music. I do not include a link to their review because they don't deserve the traffic.
Self-titled opener “No Line On The Horizon” melds the riff from “The Fly” with the glide and bounce of “Zooropa”. The entire record in fact, has a sort of “hover and soar” feeling to it. Musically it is shimmery and ethereal, while vocally Bono quickly reasserts himself as THE PREMIERE VOCALIST IN ROCK N ROLL. I’ve often said that Bono could make you cry by singing the listings in the phonebook, and this album (and title track) boldly reassert this claim. The song itself features an odd sort of hovering feeling that U2 previously dipped into on the (vastly underrated) Passengers Soundtrack Vol. 1. and again, Zooropa. This is territory that U2 has treaded before, but never quite in this way – it really establishes the thematic regions of the entire album.
“Magnificent” follows, and feels like a leftover from War (and I mean that in a good way). The Edge has not jangled like this since the early eighties, dusting off a particular color in his palette that he alone owns, and the result is thrilling. The application of said jangle has seemed to unlock 1982 Bono as well, as he has not sang this open throated since taking his first vocal lessons post-Unforgettable Fire. (I swear I was wiping the rain off my forehead from Red Rocks just listening to this). It is at this point that Larry Mullen Jr. and Adam Clayton truly begin to impress – surely there is no better rhythm section in rock. Their interplay is sexy without being cheesy, a genuine push and pull, back and forth. The bass line itself sounds like Clayton left it behind in 1983 and rediscovered it only now, adding the “swing” to it that he has mastered in the years between. But it is the little things that make this a justly illustrious album, and one of those little things is the particular off beat on the bass drum that Mullen Jr. stomps here; an emotional thud of emphasis, as impactful as any lyric or melody. This has to be the only rhythm section in rock that can put a lump in your throat. Needless to say, this is intensely strong, strong stuff.
“Moment of Surrender” clocks in at almost seven and a half minutes, and sweeps through unidentified territory, both musically and lyrically. However, this is the first evidence (often repeated throughout the album) of an original and innovative interaction amongst band members – often it sounds as not only the Edge and Bono are singing together, but perhaps Clayton, Mullen, Lanois, and Eno are all singing in unison, and the effect is startling. It almost feels like gospel (surely an Eno influence) in a genuine sense, as opposed to the blue eyed soul of say, “Stuck In A Moment”). The song was composed in one long, spur of the moment improvisation (like “Elvis Presley and America”, one of my favorite tracks in the U2 canon), but never feels like it. It also recalls “Heaven and Hell”, an unreleased track from the Achtung Baby sessions.
This gospel effect truly becomes manifest in the “Dear Prudence-ish” “Unknown Caller”. The Edge jangles away again, but the group singing moves into awe-inspiring terrain. It also features the first proper solo by The Edge in a very long time, and brightly recalls George Harrison in its lucidity and mysticism (not often can you describe a solo as “spiritual”, but this one unmistakably is). The first time I heard this song I was driving down the highway, and it affected me so profoundly I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, and I didn’t even know why exactly. This is what U2 does – they move you, they make you swoon. Often U2 (sometimes appropriately) are criticized for being bombastic or self-important, but the bottom line is that whatever their methodology, it works. I can think of no other band (save Sigur Ros, but that is a horse of a different color) that can affect a listener, or an audience like U2 can.
Previous to hearing the album I was a bit worried about the song “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” due to the awful, awful name. However, the song is tremendous, and very Achtung Baby. The Edge’s playing here, and on the entire album for that matter, seems drawn from the same well that produced “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” and “Where The Streets Have No Name”. There is a sort of tribal, transcendent feeling to the entire album, yet in a distinctive way than previous territories of enlightenment U2 have mined before.
A couple of semi-straight ahead rock songs follow in current single “Get On Your Boots” and “Stand Up Comedy”. Both songs make sense in the context of the album, taking on spirituality, sex, and terrorism (now who else would have the guts to do that?). While “Get On Your Boots” features an awesomely crunchy garage riff, the song seems a bit thin in comparison to the rest of the album. Perhaps these two will grow on me more, but for now they are clearly the weakest links here (though again, when listened to as part of the whole album, feel totally necessary and correct).
“Fez – Being Born” is all over the place; huge musical/melodic shifts occur several times. Yet the “float” is again present, a sort of musical “highness” that Coldplay would kill starving villagers to achieve; yet U2 do it with the appearance of effortlessness. The song is beautiful, and (here’s that word again) is truly transcendent. This is thrilling stuff to any longtime U2 fan. “White As Snow” is sparse, with odd production (atmospherics lofting about while crudely mic-ed guitar sit beside one another – it just occurred to me that this is an easy way to describe the Eno/Lanois partnership). Gorgeous, and unlike anything U2 has done before.
“Breathe” stomps in, a glam-rock monster. It’s thrillingly huge U2 as only they can be. However, in the past Bono might have used a big rock song such as this as an opportunity to put together comic book style, over the top lyrics, but here, it is emotionally heartbreaking and staggeringly moving.
The album features a palpable sense of spirituality, and importantly, mystery. These are the most “mysterious” songs as a set since Zooropa, and certainly since “If You Wear That Velvet Dress” from over a decade ago. Densely atmospheric, this is one of the finest produced U2 albums ever, a fact that is remarkable considering the album sessions began with Rick Rubin and were completed with mainstays Brian Eno, Daniel Lanois, and Steve Lillywhite. The production here is magnificent, be it the intimate mix of “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” which recalls the colourful desperation in past classics such as “Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses” or “So Cruel”. It’s the atmospheric mix that moves this album into distinctive territory, and instantly brings into focus what has been missing from the last few albums; Bono’s voice in particular has been mixed, as a pop singer would be, sitting directly on top of the music, smoothed out and easily palatable. But on No Line On The Horizon Bono’s vocal seems raw, very “dry”, and honest, and serve as a reminder of his inimitable vocal prowess.
Evidently U2 have tuned into an exclusive wavelength here, some strange frequency that they have never discovered before. I am bewitched (bewitched is the correct term, as the album plainly works some peculiar enchantment on the listener) by this record, as I did not expect it (or any album, by anyone) to reach the heights it so effortlessly soars to. There is an unusual magic to No Line On The Horizon, a reverent sense of spirituality and transcendence that a band as old a U2 have no earthly right being able to conjure at this late hour in their career. The expanded, lengthy sessions employed to create No Line On The Horizon now make sense as clearly a strange breeze has swept U2 in it’s wake, taking them to undiscovered territories. The fact that U2 were intelligent enough to follow this feeling (as Bono described in “Mysterious Ways”) rather than attempt to direct the flow of the river into more radio friendly units is astonishing, and laudable of admiration in itself.
None of these songs sound like hits, but make no mistake No Line On The Horizon is U2’s third masterpiece. I cannot believe I am saying this, but I agree wholeheartedly with Rolling Stone. This is a startlingly gorgeous and unique album that is an equal to The Joshua Tree and Achtung Baby in it’s scope, quality of songwriting, and sheer ability to move the listener. Though not in need of accolades or confirmation of status, No Line On The Horizon firmly positions U2 in a nearly peerless position in the history of rock and roll. An instant classic.
The Verdict: 4 out of 5 stars. (Ed. Note - this post has been updated 8/12/09)
PS - Of course Pitchfork hates it - they are too interested in being cool to really care about good music. I do not include a link to their review because they don't deserve the traffic.
