Barcelona 1
Nou
Camp
30th
June 2009
Close encounters of the 360 kind
It
sometimes seemed over the years that U2 gigs were never a close
enough encounter for Bono. He was famous for climbing out into the
crowd in early shows, falling back into his fans mid-song at Red
Rocks for example, or leaping from the stage to slow dance with a
girl at Live Aid. As U2 grew to sell out huge stadiums on the Joshua
Tree tour, so did the distance from their audience. They have been
looking to reduce this distance since. They introduced a B-stage out
in the middle of the audience in their Zoo TV tour, and have used
different variations of this extended stage walkway on the PopMart,
Elevation and Vertigo tours, to get themselves closer and to reach
more of their audience.
U2 kicked off their 360º world tour
in Barcelona last Tuesday with yet another radical and daring new
stage production, from which they could launch themselves into the
orbit of their fans - and apparently now also of the planet. When the
old stages were always confined to one end of the stadium, some fans
could be up to a full football pitch distance away from the band. The
new round 360º stage is plopped proudly right out on the pitch, with
a walkway circling it that reaches the halfway line, so a mere half a
football pitch is now the furthest distance that anyone in the
audience is from Bono at most points in the show. And of course the
audience is now all-encompassing, all around the stage, engulfing U2
in their fervour from all angles. It must be quite flattering to have
20,000 people cheer your arse every five minutes.
However
what’s on the ground isn’t what the new stage is all about. It’s
what is towering in the sky over it. Whilst old U2 stages would reach
out, they would also reach up. This one certainly does. U2’s 360º
stage (affectionately called ‘the Claw’ on fan forums) is a
mammoth, hulking, three-dimensional beast, searing upwards on four
angular legs, creating a high-tech cathedral vault for the band to
perform in.
My seat for the concert was on the fifth tier of
the sky-scraping Nou Camp stadium. I got a fleeting glimpse of the
stage beast through one of the arena entrances on my arduous climb to
the top of the stadium.
“Oh my God, it’s Cloverfield!”
was my first reaction, as it was like one of those all-too-quick
snatches which should terrify but only intrigues, making me quicken
my steps up the stairs for a proper look.
The alien invader
theme continued when I finally entered the arena. It turned out it
wasn’t Cloverfield, it was War Of The Worlds! The stage is vast,
monstrous and utterly alien-looking, appearing as if it could rise up
at any moment and start stomping over or zapping the lucky souls
inside the circular walkway that encompasses the central stage.
I
entered the stadium around 9:30 pm when the sun was mercifully
setting behind some mountains on my right, so I could avoid having to
sit in the scorchio Spanish sun. The sights below, above and around
me were breath-taking. The Nou Camp is a very, very large stadium. It
was packed. And it was kicking. Although the sky was darkening, the
temperature appeared to be rising. An atomic atmosphere was pulsing
through the air, all around the arena, like there was a fusion
reactor hidden somewhere inside the Claw leaking intense bursts of
radio-friendly radiation, except neither Tom Hanks nor Ewan McGregor
were on-hand to dismantle the atomic bomb and save us from the
imminent explosion. What song would cause detonation to the
night…?
Ok, enough hyperbole, breathe man, breathe, what
about the concert? Well, it was a night of many surprises, both in
the music and in the production.
The gig started with the
lights falling, a fine dry-ice mist forming, and Larry walking onto
the stage, taking his seat behind his drums and hammering out a
tribal rhythm. He was followed by Adam and then Edge who donned their
guitars and revealed the song was Breathe.
Ah! Breathe. But
not many people did. After four long years, U2 were back!
It
was a surprising choice of opening track (my money had been on No
Line On The Horizon) and, whilst it is a great song, it didn’t
quite have the oompf to raise the entire stadium from the start. My
favourite for first actually came in second, allowing Bono to show
off his vocal range, and to lead the first of many mass choir-athons,
and garnering a huge cheer from the people in the seats “behind”
the stage when he went to sing to them.
Get On Your Boots,
showing it is a better song live, and the suitably named Magnificent
completed the introductory quartet to the concert based on the new
album.
After Magnificent, Bono was at the very furthest point
on the walkway in the middle of the stadium. He got down on his
knees, and offered his thanks to the crowd who had travelled from all
over Spain, from all over the world, to come to see U2 in such
difficult economic times, and for continually coming back to U2 again
and again down the years. It may seem galling to some people to see a
rock star put on such a show of gratitude, but I believe it’s
sincere.
The band immediately launched into Beautiful Day, the
first of U2’s great stadium blockbusters of the night, and the Nou
Camp responded with raucous Latin zeal. I was surprised to see Bono
proudly wear a Irish tricolour, which was thrown by the audience,
around his neck. I’d always suspected, and previously written, that
he probably wouldn’t be seen doing this for its potentially awkward
republican connotations, but I’m happy to have that assumption
smashed.
The sing-along continued when Bono dedicated Angel Of
Harlem to Michael Jackson, including singing snippets of Man In The
Mirror and Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough. He introduced I Still
Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For by thanking the people in
Barcelona, the capital of surrealism, for letting U2 take over the
neighbourhood around the Nou Camp for two weeks to build their
Gaudi-inspired space station there.
The second musical
surprise of the night was the gorgeous In A Little While, which Bono
dedicated to the girlfriend of someone I didn’t quite catch the
name of. I didn’t quite catch it partly because of the crowd
cheering but also because the sound quality up on the fifth tier was
quite poor at times. Edge’s guitar could barely be heard at all
during the first four songs, and Adam’s bass was only slightly more
discernible. As tall as the Claw is, my seat was still above it. Some
of the speakers on the stage point upwards but the volume of the
sound wasn’t quite loud enough, and the vocals would occasionally
be blown away by the light breeze.
The most ill-fitting
sequence of the show was when Bono introduced a video link-up with
the crew of the International Space Station. For five minutes I could
only occasionally pick out snatches of what was said, partly because
the crowd cheered at every mention of Barcelona, partly because of
the poor sound quality, and partly because of the irritating eejit
sitting beside me who was making a phone call. I did however have a
quick glance skywards into a slightly cloudy sky when one of the
astronauts said he could see Barcelona. “Really?” The entire
sequence dragged on for over five minutes, and seemed quite
pointless, imposing on the audience’s desire to enjoy U2’s music
and deflating from the concert momentum considerably. And of course
could lead to accusations of U2 considering themselves to be too big
for the planet.
Unknown Caller was next. It clearly wasn’t
the preferred choice of the man with the phone beside me, and his
mate, as they both protested by leaving their seats, never to return.
At the end of the song Bono tried to lead the crowd in a football
chant by repeating a refrain with the closing lyrics “Bar-ce-lon-a,
you know your name, so punch it in”, although it didn’t really
catch on. Perhaps in an English speaking audience.
The third
musical surprise was a glorious blast from the well-remembered U2
past with The Unforgettable Fire. Hopefully these two raids into
their back catalogue mean U2 will be bringing back many of their
older and less-known tunes for their dedicated long-time fans to
enjoy alongside their must-play classics. One gripe some fans who
travelled to see many shows had with the Vertigo tour was how static
and predictable the set list was on some of the legs, with very few
variations from night to night. Hopefully this new tour may see a bit
more set list adventure.
One of the highlights of the show for
me was enjoying the Spanish audience’s fun countdown for Vertigo
“1, 2, 3 – 14!” City Of Blinding Lights followed to complete
the set from the last album, and with a very blinding display of
intense white lights swarming over the entire stadium.
The
biggest highlight and biggest surprise of the show was the U2 disco.
In Me And U2 I describe how the many dance remixes of U2 songs over
the last twenty years haven’t quite hit the spot, and how U2 should
do a collaboration with another one of my favourite bands, The
Chemical Brothers, to rectify this, and to introduce some dance-floor
groove into their songs – but I assumed it would be in the studio.
I didn’t expect them to do it live. Well, they did. And it was
fantastic fun.
A dance rhythm started, the lights all around
the Claw went into disco hyperdrive, Larry got up from behind his
drum kit and grabbed a bongo, slinging the strap over his shoulder,
and a big fiesta started with a thoroughly unexpected but immensely
enjoyable dance version of I Know I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go
Crazy Tonight. All four members of the band were parading around the
full length of the walkway, strutting their stuff (we know that they
can’t dance, at least we know) and interacting with the audience
below them. It was a glorious piece of kitsch disco cabaret which had
everyone bopping along in delight.
Larry ended up at the end
of the walkway behind the stage, showing off his bongo skills, and
then had to run back to his drum kit towards the end of the song to
pick up his sticks to hammer out the intro to Sunday Bloody Sunday,
one of U2’s most overtly Irish songs, and with the stage bathed
throughout in an Irish green. However, despite its connections to
Derry, Sunday Bloody Sunday is one of the songs I wish U2 would play
less frequently, as over-exposure diminishes the impact and meaning
of what was a very important song. The same goes for Pride which came
next. Two big, classic, crucially important U2 songs, which are
guaranteed crowd pleasers, especially for the non-fanatics, but more
play means less impact.
MLK followed Pride with Bono again
demonstrating the power and emotion of his voice.
Walk On was
dedicated to Aung Sun Suu Kyi, although the band’s hope that fans
would download and wear a face mask of her image during the song to
demonstrate their support wasn’t widely realised. I suspect many
fans didn’t know about this planned action, others like me may have
known but didn’t download and print the image from the U2 website.
It would make far more sense for fans to be given a mask on entering
the stadium which they could either keep or return at the end, to
avoid having hundreds of masks littering the ground and getting
trampled into the dirt with cigarette butts. The band brought dozens
of children holding the masks over their faces onto the walkway. Bono
sang a snippet of You’ll Never Walk Alone at the end which appealed
to the Celtic supporter in me. The band then left the stage for a
speech by Bishop Desmond Tutu to be played on the video
screens.
There have been a few discussions on some of the U2
fan sites over which song should be used to lead into Where The
Streets Have No Name, which is far and away still the most popular
song in a U2 concert. In previous tours it’s been Bad, All I Want
Is You, Running To Stand Still or Pride. I posted that I’d like
them to try it as an opener for the encore in a hark back to the
dazzling version in Rattle And Hum when it was an extended concert
opener (and also similar to the start of my first ever U2 concert in
Dublin in 1989).
So when I heard the first subtle suggestion
of synths towards the end of Bishop Tutu’s speech, I recognised it
immediately. Excellent! Except it didn’t quite scale the heights
that I’d expected or hoped. Edge cut back his jangling guitar intro
and I think the song suffered from following on from the speech.
Regardless, it’s the song which most of the audience look forward
to sharing during the concert, and doesn’t seem to suffer from
being overplayed. It was during Streets that I first noticed that
there was a bunch of happy fans jumping around like loons in tennis
court sized spaces behind and to the left and right of the stage.
People inside the Claw can apparently either stand out front in the
squash immediately below the stage or enjoy the wide open spaces
behind it. Or alternate between the two.
The biggest talking
point of the night though was the by now almost traditional U2
opening night feck up. Bono was out front on the walkway singing One
(and now wearing a Barcelona FC football jersey given to him by Pep
Guardiola, the team manager) when he seemed to lose his place in the
song. He was fiddling with his earpieces and appeared to say
something to one of his helpers in the pit below him. He called to
the band to repeat a verse. He then told them all to stop playing
entirely. “Edge, listen to me, Adam you may want to join us. I’ll
count you in.” He ended up singing the verse three times, before he
walked back to the stage to rejoin the band just as he was singing,
“we’re one, but we’re not the same” which was a great live
visual representation of the story of the song.
A short break
before the band returned for the encore. And there was another very
welcome surprise for the dedicated U2 fan. I recognised the opening
line immediately but couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t know, sometimes I feel like
checking out.” The sumptuous Ultraviolet was back after a long
break! Bono reappeared wearing a jacket which had dozens of short red
laser lights emanating out of the sleeves that looked great in the
smoky stage and on the large video screens. He was singing into a
microphone which was like a small steering wheel and which was
dangling from the roof of the Claw. I initially thought Bono was on a
wire when he started swinging across part of the stage and thought,
“No, Bono, noooooo”, before I realised it was the microphone
itself that was strung up.
The last of the classics followed,
With Or Without You, before the show ended well past midnight on a
fairly subdued note with the sweeping Moment Of Surrender, which,
whilst I think is the best song on the new album, isn’t in the same
league as 40 or Love Is Blindness as a concert closer.
I
loitered behind as the crowd dispersed to bask in the scene for just
a little bit longer, after having been regaled so wondrously by U2’s
latest live concoction. U2 360º is yet another creative and
technological leap up from previous U2 tours, showing the band’s
continual quest to bring their music, and themselves, out into their
audience. The set list was a near perfect balance between the new
album, forgotten oldies and classic hits. The production was
dazzling, and the band were clearly enjoying themselves.
“Edge,
look around look around! Adam Clayton, look around look around!”
sang Bono gleefully during one song. U2 are now centre stage and
centre stadium. It’s U2 360º, giving them the latitude to explore
new territory, and the attitude to enjoy seeing everyone around it.
Milan
San Siro
07th July 2009
Milan Milook Mileave
24
hours in Milano! Dash in, dash around, dash out again.
I went
all that way to not see U2. I couldn't go to the concert as there
wasn't a flight back early enough on Wednesday morning to get me to
school for 8:30 am. But it's ok, I had a fabulous day anyway. And I
don't know if I'd really want to do a repeat of the Barcelona
all-nighter again as it's rather exhausting.
I took the train
to Stansted after school on Monday afternoon, sporting my new and
hopefully eye-catching 'Me and U2' T-shirt (more about which
later).
An incident free flight to Bergamo (well, there was an
hour delay but ho hum), and I jumped on the coach for the drive to
Milan. There was a couple sitting two rows in front of me that I
ended up banging into three times, but I didn't get their names! They
were a lovely friendly couple from Lancashire who were also across
for the concert. Well, the girl was really going to see Snow Patrol,
U2's support act in Milan. The lad was a big U2 fan. He was quite
keen to know if they would play some of his fav U2 songs but I was
very reluctant to tell him as I reckon concerts are infinitely better
if you don't know what to expect.
When we were getting off the
coach at Milan, they asked me if I had any info about hotels in
Milan. They hadn't booked anywhere! 'Vagabonding it' was the phrase I
think they used. By coincidence I had a photocopy of one of the
accommodation pages from the Lonely Planet as I'd copied it for the
transport info. I tore off the piece of the page I needed and gave
them the rest. They jokingly asked me if they could stay in my room,
I extremely politely declined. I bade them farewell to find somewhere
to stay, hoping they would be alright in a big strange city on the
night before a big U2 concert where English is not particularly
widely spoken.
I took the Milan metro down to my hotel, having
to join many others in running for the last train, fortunately
catching it just in time. There were no organised meet-ups from
either of the two U2 forums I'm on so I didn't venture out of my
hotel as it was after midnight, deciding instead to try to get a
decent night's kip.
The hotel was a decent little place but my
room wasn't the most salubrious, resembling a dark box room as it had
no windows and grey paint. But it was en
suite and was only €45 which is fairly reasonable for Milan. There
were one or two mosquitoes though and I had my first big bite of 2009
on my ankle next morning.
There was a massive and very long
thunder storm next morning, with a monsoon like shower. I wasn't
looking forward to spending a day in the rain at the San Siro
stadium, and had a moment's thought for the poor souls who may have
camped out overnight in their bid to be at the front of the concert
crowd. I'd heard the forecast was going to be for rain so I'd brought
my little travel umbrella and mac-in-a-pac. I didn't need them.
Thankfully. The storm passed, the day brightened up and the ground
dried up.
I walked the mile or so to the stadium through the
delightfully quiet and attractive Milan back streets. The majestic
and legendary San Siro stadium is the home of both AC Milan and Inter
Milan (or Internazionale). I'd been inside it once before for a
stadium tour a few years ago. And I'd seen it for a U2 concert on a
stunning DVD of their gig there on the Vertigo tour. The Italian
audience are wildly enthusiastic. Those passionate Milanese like to
express themselves.
I decided to continue with the random idea
I had in Barcelona to give the first person I saw wearing a U2
T-shirt a free copy of my book. But I wasn't quite prepared for what
happened next.
The first person I saw was a bloke near the
stadium. I approached him calling out "Scusi". He stopped
and I asked him "Parla inglesi?" He replied "yeah a
little". So I explained in my slowest and clearest Derry accent
about what I was doing and offered him the book as a present. He
stared at me for a moment and, in that Italian way familiar from
movies, waved his hands in the air saying "No, no, no" and
promptly walked off! I was like completely WTF dude!
I noticed
a couple of police cars parked near by. Maybe he thought I was a
dodgy street hawker and would get him in trouble, but almost at the
very same instant a couple of Italian men walked past wearing
cardboard signs around their necks with "Compro biglietti"
(I buy tickets) written on them. They asked me quite openly within
earshot of the cops "Compro i vendo biglietti, tickets".
The peelers had no problem with any hawker or tout all day so I'm
still bemused as to how I scared the guy with the T-shirt away so
dramatically.
The next guy I saw spoke a bit more English. He
was Greek and had flown in from Athens the day before for the
concert. I managed to dredge up my few words of Greek. "Hero
poli" (pleased to meet you). He happily accepted the book, and
agreed to pose for a photo for this blog.
Afterwards
it was time to complete the freebie session by giving books (well,
offering them to see if they'll be accepted) to the people at the
front of the General Admission queues i.e. the queues the hardcore U2
fanatics wait in to guarantee their spot just below the stage. There
was only one queue in Barcelona but there were two in Milan.
I
walked around to the first GA queue by gate 4. In Barcelona the GA
queue went straight along the pavement from the stadium gates, so it
was easy to walk to the front to meet the people there. In Milan they
had used fences to create a set of theme-park type queueing pens that
double-backed on themselves, which made it difficult to see where the
front was and who was there.
I walked to the front of the
fence at the side of the queue and asked the nearest people inside
the fence where the front was. They were Italian so I cobbled
together in very pidgin English / French / Spanish the phrase for,
"Where is first person?" They understood and pointed to a
girl a few feet away, who came over when I beckoned that I wanted to
talk to her.
She was an Italian girl who had been queueing for
24 hours and she gracefully accepted the book. We talked for a wee
while and it turns out she has been to Derry three times! She says
it's her favourite place in Ireland, and the Bogside Inn is her
favourite pub! Now the Bogside Inn is in the Bogside. And the Bogside
could lay claim to being the most republican area in Ireland
(although I'm sure the Falls Road in Belfast would provide some
competition). So she was probably drinking with one or two ex-IRA
men. It wouldn't be the most obvious choice of boozer for tourists to
pop into for a pint. Or maybe it is. I've no doubt they'd certainly
be very welcome there, and receive some special Derry hospitality;
she probably wasn't allowed to buy a pint all night. Anyway, it was
great to meet her and hear her tales of Derry.
At the other
queue I recognised some of the people towards the front. They were a
small group of Argentinians who had been second in the queue in
Barcelona. I asked them if they were first in this queue but they
said it was another girl a bit further in. One or two of them
recognised me from giving the book to the three people at the front
of the Barcelona queue. I tossed a book to one girl to pass on to the
person who was first in the queue. She gave it to the girl who was
first, and some of the other Argies jokingly asked me where their
free book was.
The
girl who was first came over to chat to me, walking through the space
that the beefy security guys used to supervise the queue. She seemed
to be on friendly terms with them. She was also Italian, called
Ditsia (I think). She explained how she'd come down to organise the
queue 48 hours previously, as at U2's last concerts in Italy there
had been some fairly rough and inconsiderate behaviour from some
Italian blokes unfairly trying to force their way in. 'Animals' was
the word she used. She had brought wristbands and marker pens to
provide a fair sequencing system for all arrivals, and had liased
with the security over queue management. I really like this, how U2
fans in the queue will organise themselves to look out for each
other, to protect each other's interests, working with the arena
security and occasionally U2's tour personnel to try to create some
order on what could be chaos.
I took a walk around the rest of
the stadium to check out the scene and take some snaps and I met the
English couple again. They'd managed to find a room for the night but
they now needed to find a different hotel. They'd come down to the
stadium to sell two spare GA tickets they had. Remarkably, the guy
had managed to haggle a price from one of the tickets touts for a
price above their face value. So I can only guess what price the
touts were charging for them. We walked around the stadium and
stopped off at a bar at one corner of it for a sandwich and a drink
before they headed off again on another hotel hunt.
I had
arranged to meet a German guy called Matt who runs the staggeringly
detailed u2gigs.com website which I used whilst writing the book. It
has a vast, and very nearly complete, database of every single time
U2 have played anywhere in the world in their entire history - even
U2 aren't too familiar with the details of their own dim and distant
gigs.
I met up with him and his very friendly German and
Austrian buddies. Matt is going to be at 18 shows on the European leg
of the U2 tour! Which is a lot more than me. (I may catch up in the
US depending on how many concerts I actually go into if my plan to
use tickets and a book as payment for couch-surfing accomodation pays
off.) I gave Matt a couple of books for himself and his mate he runs
U2gigs.com with. Matt sneakily took a picture of the back of my new
T-shirt and instantly put in on Twitter for the world to see. He's
also put another one on his website (which doesn't show me hitching
up my trousers).
An argument between two very burly,
beer-bellied, neanderthal Italian ticket touts kicked off quite close
to us over something, probably paying above face value for two
tickets. One of them ripped off his T-shirt and immediately started
gesturing to the other to hit him in the face. Both men had their
fists raised and were bobbing and weaving like two boxers in a very
large tarmac ring. The aggressor was moving toward and taunting the
other guy, egging him on to try to hit him. I hate fights, and unlike
most people I don't like watching them, they make me feel nauseous
(although Fight Club is one of the greatest movies ever). So I
didn't really watch the two guys too much although they were getting
a gathering audience. I did notice one small flurry of attempted
punches but neither of them seemed to be hurt. Some police arrived
shortly after and separated them, talked to them and then let both go
on their way. I saw both touts a couple of times later, the more
aggressive one drinking cans of beer and stomping through the crowd
waving tickets.
I spent a couple of hours chatting to Matt and
one of his mates. I also had a very interesting chat with an American
guy called Jonathan who introduced himself to me. Jonathan is in the
US Navy, is currently stationed in Germany and had driven down that
day for the concert and was driving back immediately after. Hope you
got back ok buddy!
At about 4pm when Matt and co headed into
the stadium I decided it was time to grab some food and then to try
to actually flog one or two books. My ol Derry muckers Ciaran and Ed
have warned me a couple of times to be very wary about publicly
selling the book outside concerts as local bye-laws may not permit
this. Ed says he doesn't want me to end up in a Greek prison. But I
actually think that would be a very interesting tale as I'm not going
to Greece. But I am very aware that I'm not a licensed trader and
could get meself in trouble, either with the local authorities, or
possibly with U2's management who may object to someone following
their tour to flog his own U2 book. Or maybe they won't give a damn.
I've no idea.
Anyway, there were lots of people selling lots
of stuff: U2 scarves, U2 hats, U2 T-shirts, U2 lighters, U2 tickets,
cold drinks, cold sandwiches, cold turkey. It was like a general
bring-it-n-flog-it-bazaar. And the local police didn't seem to give a
hoot. So I thought I'd be ok to try to sell the book.
Matt had
pointed out to me that a lot of the audience arrived by metro, and
there was a large metro park at one corner of the stadium. I sat in
the shade at a food stall there, having a large panini and diet Coke,
and displaying my new A4 sign of the book cover, a copy of the book,
and some more copies displayed in a clear plastic bag that I'd
grabbed from a shop at Stansted airport. Many people had a wee glance
but in about 20 minutes no-one came over, probably because I was
sitting at a table by a food stall.
I walked around to the
other corner of the stadium where the crowd who had used the metro to
get to the stadium would have to pass. I stood there for about maybe
just under two hours.
And I sold three books!
I had
been standing there for maybe an hour with plenty of people looking
as they walked past, and saying things like "Me and oo du-ey"
(U2) or "ah il libro" (a book), but no-one stopped to
enquire further. I realised that my sign may draw attention but
people don't know that it's for a book, and that I'm selling it - or
even that I wrote it. I may try to get another more suitable
sign.
U2 drove towards the stadium along the road just behind
me in a cavalcade with a police escort and all sirens blazing. I had
a quick glance out of the corner of my eye to see if Paul McGuinness
was running towards me with a 'Cease And Desist' notice. But I
escaped this time.
After an hour I was starting to lose hope
that I would sell one. But I wasn't remotely bothered as I considered
it all part of the experience. I'll have to go through with this on a
lot of days as it is the choice I made all the months ago. The bed is
made, it needs to be lain in. Suddenly, and I didn't even notice
where they came from, two guys approached me and, without even asking
what I was holding or possibly even saying hello, one of them said
he'd like to buy a book. What? Sorry? Que?
They were two
Italian guys, with the same name, Lili (I think, yes, I need to make
notes with names on the people I meet). One of them had lived in
Dublin for seven years. He told me he'd like to buy the book. His
friend had a look and said he'd like one too. What? Sorry? Que?
Really? Fantastic!
We
talked for a while and in my extreme excitement at having any one
customer, never mind two, I told them I would give them two books for
the price of one. Dublin Lili tried to insist that they would pay,
but if there's one contest an Irish person is qualified to win, then
it's a No-Let-ME-Pay contest. It's the
Mrs Doyle gene you see. My mum would spend hours arguing about this
with her friends. My dad is quite seasoned at it too. So I casually,
easily batted away his offer to pay for both. I realise this tendency
will have to be cut out immediately if I'm ever going to get some of
my outlay back.
(I immediately and excitedly texted some
friends and family about this historic event. Another ol Derry mucker
Steve replied saying I should have made it buy two get one free.
Steve has a business degree.)
But I have no regrets. I think
it brought me some good sales karma. Because about five minutes after
selling my first book, I'd sold another. A Dutch couple approached me
to take a look. The woman told me she'd seen the book in a
second-hand bookshop in Dublin the previous week. I told her that
this was most unlikely. She insisted and for a very short moment I
tried to think which of my mates in Ireland had dumped their copy.
But I explained that the book was only out and I'd only sold a few
copies. Anyway, maybe she did see a copy, I wonder how much it was
selling for?
And then another five minutes later the same
English couple passed me on their way in to the gig. They'd found a
hotel but had spent three hours trying to find one. Spend half an
hour booking one online next time guys! But they also bought a book.
I was tempted to give it to them for free but I resisted this
time.
So I'd sold my first three books!
So the tally
for Milan was:
Sold 3 - 6 Freebies
Which is a big
improvement on Barcelona which was (intentionally):
Sold 0 -
10 Freebies
As soon as the English couple had left me, I
needed to head back to the central station for the coach to the
airport. My flight was delayed for ninety minutes. We eventually took
off just after a huge electrical storm had passed, possibly heading
for Milan, where U2 would have been onstage, and quite possibly
playing Electrical Storm.
When we landed at Stansted
I'd missed the last train back by about two minutes so had to take
the coach. At Liverpool Street there were no buses for ages. And I
then got on the wrong damn one. The N35 night bus takes a different
route from the 35, so I ended up walking home. I finally got home at
around 3am, so just four hours kip until I was up again for
school.
I checked my email and was amazed to discover I'd sold
two books online! One to a guy in Belgium and one to a guy in the
Netherlands. (So now there are copies of the book somewhere in
Greece, Italy, Spain, Belgium, and the Netherlands.) I've no idea how
they heard about it but the timestamp on the emails was roughly when
Matt would have put his photo of my T-shirt onto his Twitter feed. So
maybe I owe him a commission.
Anyway, it's all very exciting
to have sold my first books to people who don't already know
me!
This has been a very long and very rambling blog post, so
congrats and sympathies if you have got this far :)
Paris
Stade de France
11th July
2009
Paris in summertime is a very fine place indeed. Especially with my old friend Neil who travelled down from Liege in Belgium, and is bilingual in French and English.
Neil
was waiting to greet me at the Gare du Nord as I got off the Eurostar
on Saturday morning. He'd bought us tickets to the Kandinsky
exhibition at the Pompidou Centre. I must be honest, I hadn't
actually heard of him before, but Neil gave me a brief synopsis of
the man and his art. It was a fascinating exhibition, these were a
couple of my fav paintings.
Well, Paris is a city of culture
so it was great to be exposed to something new to me in the art world
in the morning before going to see something more familiar to me in
the music world in the evening.
We took
the metro up to our hotel which was about a mile from the Stade de
France. I knew we were in the city of love when the hotel
receptionist asked us if we wanted a twin room.
Our first
encounter with some of the different Parisian norms happened when we
booked a taxi to take us to the stadium. When we got into the taxi,
the meter already said €10! What? Seems a bit excessive before
we've gone anywhere. We challenged this and I went back into the
hotel reception with the driver to discuss it with the hotel
receptionist. It turns out that in Paris the taxi meter starts
running as soon as the taxi driver starts his journey to the pick-up
point! QLF? (French for WTF.)
We compromised on €15 for the
whole journey, but keep a watch out for that if you're ever over
there.
When we got to the stadium I went into Freebie Mode -
i.e. the first person wearing a U2 T-shirt gets a copy of my book -
if they want it.
One of
the bestest moments of the weekend happened next. I saw a couple
walking towards us, and the girl was wearing a U2 vest. We have a
winner!
They were a Canadian couple and (get this!) they were
on their honeymoon! In Paris! And going to the U2 concert! I was
soooo chuffed by that. They happily accepted the book. Hope you guys
have a fabulous rest of honeymoon in the UK!
We headed around
to the General Admission queue to see who was first there. We were
told there were two GA queues, but in effect there were many.
I asked the people at Gate B who the first person was and got invited to go in to meet them. So I ducked under the tape marking the queue area, tiptoed over or around all the people lying down and met the two French guys who were first. And another French guy bought a copy! My first customer in Paris! He also turned out to be the last, but more of that later.
We went
around to Gate H which we had been told was the other GA queue and
gave the guy there who was first a book. He was French and didn't
speak English, so I don't know what he's going to do with the book.
File it under 'Books To Read After Learning The Language'.
I'd
made contact with a couple of guys from the Interference U2 fan forum
who were also going to be in Paris. The first guy I met was Djundi
who had flown across from Indonesia with his wife for a week. Now, as
I say in the book, I LOVE Indonesia, the people there are the
friendliest in the world. So I was able to impress him with my
dazzling bahasa Indonesia. "Selamat datang di Europe! Senang
berkanalan dengan anda!" (Welcome to Europe, pleased to meet
you.)
Turns out he owns a U2 bar in Bandung which is couple of
hours from Jakarta. I planned to go there when I was Indonesia last
summer but didn't get there in the end. Well, I think I will next
time. He told me he runs an annual U2 night in Bandung which brings
in 1500 people.
Just after chatting to Djundi we banged into
Ian, one of the Aussie guys who was first in the queue in Barcelona,
and it was great to catch up with his tales of seeing all the shows
so far, although he hasn't opened the book I gave him yet, sort it
out mate!
Neil and I took a walk around the full circumference
of the Stade. We could hear U2 sound-checking inside. At the opposite
side of the stadium there were two small crowds gathered outside two
gates. It was possible to catch a very narrow view of the stage
through the gates. U2 played very loud, clear and well received
versions of Mysterious Ways, Elevation and Electrical Storm, so I
guessed they would be played later that evening, which would be great
as they weren't played at the concert in Barcelona I saw.
We
met up with another Interferencer Sam (also from Australia) and his
mate. It was Sam's last night of his three week holiday in Europe, U2
being the band at his leaving party.
The GA gates opened
around 5-30pm and the crowd arriving at the stadium was getting
thicker so it was time to try to flog some books.
I'd noticed
that there wasn't a single hawker anywhere around the stadium. In
Barcelona and especially in Milan there had been many people selling
T-shirts, posters, hats, scarves, head-bands, anything with U2 on it.
There were also many ticket touts. In Paris there were a few ticket
touts but much fewer than elsewhere. And no hawkers. But lots n lots
of police, including some armed Robocop-looking gandarme (the French
riot police) and police on horses. I don't know what kind of trouble
they thought U2 fans might cause.
Anyway, it didn't look like
it was going to be a very place for trying to sell books, but I
thought I'd give it a go. I stood on a long access path from a metro
station to the stadium, holding up my A4 sized sign of the book cover
and a book. As usual, many people looked and tried to identify what
it was I had in my hands.
After about half an hour, I noticed
three men walking down the ramp, going against the flow of people.
They had the appearance of ticket touts / hawkers, they didn't look
like fans. They walked back up the ramp about five minutes later and
came over and surrounded me, so I was blocked in against the wall.
They had very limited English, and with my limited French I quickly
realised they were undercover anti-merchandise inspectors. Shit! I
didn't really want to get arrested for illegal trading. One of them
pulled out a three page list of regulations for events at the stadium
in English. He pointed out the long list of goods that were
proscribed from being sold, showing me where it said 'books'. He
asked me if I had any more books in my bag. Er, no, no I don't I told
him. I somehow managed to blag my way out of by trying to think of
something in French that would convince them.
"Non, c'est
un souvenir. Oui, c'est un souvenir de le concert" I said
unconvincingly.
"Ah, ah, un souvenir", they all said
to each other, looking at each other and nodding, now fully
understanding why I was standing there with a book.
Anyway, it
convinced them and they walked off. I decided to stop trying to sell
books.
Neil and I headed off to find some food and a drink.
There was a large DIY superstore right next to one corner of the
stadium. We thought we'd pop in to use their loos. Except they had
extra security in the store to prevent concert attenders from using
their facilities. The toilets are only for clients. So we thought we
would buy something cheap. We were going to walk into the shop
through an empty and unused checkout lane but the guy wouldn't let us
do that either, insisting we walk back down to the proper store
entrance. But we want to buy something! Well, to do so you must use
the correct entrance. Ah, feck it. Jobsworths everywhere.
We
went into the stadium and up to our seats. I'll do a brief concert
review later.
After the show we walked following a large group
of people back towards our hotel. It had started to rain though so we
stopped for a pint in a nearby hotel. I saw a guy wearing a T-shirt
for the One campaign that Bono promotes during each concert. The guy
was also pushing a couple of large wheeled boxes, the sort that
roadies put stage equipment into. I introduced myself to him. His
name is Weldon, he's American and it turns out he lives in Brick Lane
in London, which is about 15 mins walk from my place! Small world. So
I gave him a book.
Next day we went back up to the stadium so
I could give a freebie to the first person in the GA queue. There was
one queue where people had sleeping bags and tents so that was
obviously the overnight one. I gave a book to the French girl at the
front and had a nice chat with a French guy called Cedric who did
some translating for us.
I wasn't going to have any more
attempts to sell books after the incident on Saturday so Neil and I
went into Paris for a bit of tourist action, walking around to visit
Notre Dame and the Sacre Coeur. And a stop-off for a scrumptuous
Senegalese lunch at a little riverside cafe.
Nice
Parc des Sports Charles Ehrmann
15th
July 2009
Nice was a very frustrating trip on many levels: financial, commercial, social, emotional, logistical. But good on other levels because of that.
Berlin
Olympic Stadium
18th July
2009
Berlin had a very drunk and very loud crowd and a few fun concert twists.
Amsterdam 1
Amsterdam ArenA
20th
July 2009
Yeah, a
fabulous show! Bono told the audience the trick was to turn the
stadium into a smaller venue, like the Paradiso where they played as
teenagers, and they damn well almost managed it. I got to my seat
just before the end of Breathe and, because the roof was closed, I
was hit by the heat when I entered the arena - it felt as hot as a
small sweaty venue.
I love the Unknown Caller / Unforgettable
Fire sequence, it's the highlight of the show for me, closely
followed by Moment Of Surrender, NLOTH and MLK - the songs that
showcase Bono's voice. The whole audience seemed to go into a deep
general trance during UF, hypnotised by the dazzling light display on
the lowered video wall which causes the band to become almost
invisible, or very hard to spot at least, so you're hit by this wall
of music seeming to come from nowhere.
But Bono's voice is
simply astounding, especially on MoS. The band seem to appreciate his
singing too as they all applauded him or gave him pats on the back
after In A Little While.
The crowd were great too, very
raucous, very enthusiastic. I think Bono said a few things in Dutch
too, which got the biggest cheer.
Bono also sank to his knees
and murmured a fairly long prayer at the end of MoS which I didn't
catch, before singing a few lines of 40. Someone in the pit had been
holding up a sign saying 40 during the show. The band all waited with
instruments poised to see if Bono would call them to play it, and I
was silently urging them to, but alas he didn't.
But a great
concert, it's lovely to see the band seem to really enjoy playing
together and interacting with the audience from the walkway and the
bridges.
I'd read the many posts on the other thread about the crap sound in the Arena, and most people I met at the stadium said it would probably be shit. I was behind the stage on Adam's side and the sound was great: chunky and clear, with all the parts of the music easily discernible.
(At the end of Moment of Surrender ...) I think (Bono sings) a psalm. I met a Dutch guy yesterday who's Christian and recognised part of it. "Rise up rise up on the wings of an eagle." Does that sound familiar to anyone ...?
Amsterdam 2
Amsterdam ArenA
21st
July 2009
It was
my first time seeing two U2 shows back-to-back in the same city and I
think I jammed out on throwing a double six. As they may say in other
parts of Amsterdam - what a pair!
Tonight was very different
to last night on many levels, the shake up of the set list being the
greatest. Bad! Bad is back! I was hoping it might appear later when I
heard One brought forward. It was bloomin great too mostly. Bono sang
the first verses on his back. I thought I heard a slight change of
tempo halfway through and Bono gestured something to Larry. The song
itself seemed to fade away a bit at the end. I reckon they'll have it
perfect if they play it in Dub.
Other random memories:
-
UTEOTW: not a huge fav of mine usually but I loved it cos it was
fresh, and the light show and imagery on the video screen were
dazzling at the end, with Bono singing a snippet of Break On
Through
- Edge pogoing during Elevation and the people in GA
copying
- some new artistic video imagery of the Iranian
election protests was used during the start of SBS, this seems to be
the new issue for the tour, with a wee snippet of Rock the Casbah at
the end
- I think Bono almost inadvertently walked backwards
off the stairs at the back of the stage when he was singing Don't
Stop Till You Get Enough at the end of Desire, he may have got a tap
on the ankle from his minder behind him
- the crowd seemed a
bit flat at the start, until Elevation, and weren't quite as raucous
as last night, at least where I was sitting towards the back; I think
there were more curious day-trippers tonight than hardcore fans, very
few people near me took photos or recorded parts of the show, or even
sang along
- the GA queues outside were MASSIVE - and soaked
by the short but torrential downpour during the electrical storm
-
up at the top and back of the arena was sweltering, proper sauna-like
conditions
But from Elevation on it was a top U2 concert. I
love their gigs even more when there's an element of "what's
next?"
Oh, and just remembered, one for the snippet obsessives: Bono also spoke a few lines of Oh Come All Ye Faithful, or maybe it was the Black Grape version, at the start and end of Crazy Tonight (instead of Bowie's Let's Dance).
Dublin 1
Croke Park
24th July 2009
Jaysus,
what a day! That's what may be fairly called a rollercoaster. Ups,
downs, ups, downs, twirls, loops, and screams.
Up at 6am, out
at 6:50, get on the bus to London Bridge and call my mate Mike for a
quick chat to get my voice and brain awake with a warm-up natter
before my nervous debut on Irish national radio. I got off the bus in
Shoreditch to find a quiet backstreet for the call from Today FM, as
I thought it'd be better there than at London Bridge or Gatwick. That
was the biggest bad decision today. There were a few more.
I
thought I'd be on the radio at 7am for 30 seconds or so. It was
actually after the news, sport n weather so was a bit later. And I
think my slot may have been for a bit longer, cos even though it flew
through, it seemed to go on for ages! Work that one out.
So I
knew immediately I'd fecked up with getting the train and hence
probably my flight. I made it to the check-in desk about 10 mins
late. I sorta expected that I would end up missing a flight at some
stage of this escapade, I´ll be trying very hard to ensure it´s the
last.
The biggest disappointment was that the missed flight
broke my pattern of giving a free book to the person at the front of
the GA queue. I´d managed it at every other gig / city I´d been
loitering around so far, and I was getting my photo taken with the
first person / people with my little sign with the word of that day.
I was more annoyed about this than the (excessive) financial hit of
the extra flight. I flew from Birmingham at 3pm and got to Croke Park
around 7pm, when the doors would have opened around 6pm.
I was
walking around the stadium when someone behind me saw the list of
concert dates and places on the back of my new black ´Me and U2´
T-shirt. He asked me if I´d been to all the gigs and we got
chatting. I told him about the book and he bought one! My first (and
still only) customer in Dublin! So I got my photo with today´s word
taken with him instead. This lifted my spirits massively. But alas
only temporarily.
There were loadsa people hawking all kinds
of stuff around Croker so I thought I´d be ok to do so as well. BIG
BIG MASSIVE mistake ...
I was standing at a street corner near
the stadium where there was a solid flow of fans passing, as I
quietly held up a couple of books on display to them, amidst all the
cries of "hats, scarves, ponchos, tickets, alive alive o".
After about five minutes I was approached by two undercover Gardai
who were on an anti-unauthorised U2 merchandise operation.
The
***** took all my books. About thirty of them. With a street value of
300 Euro.
I tried to talk about it with them, to explain that
many other people were selling goods or ticket touting, (and one
person told me she saw drugs being openly sold outside the pub just
across the road). The Gardai explained how the hawkers were either
licensed or weren´t selling U2 branded goods. I tried to explain
that even though my book says U2 on it that I wasn´t directly in
competition with any of their official merchandise of T-shirts or
posters, but they were insistent that I was breaking the law and they
had to confiscate the books.
I actually got really upset, and,
this is really embarrassing, but at one stage a few tears started
welling up. There was something really painful about seeing two
random blokes just walk up and take all my books off me. I´d spent
soooo much time on the damn thing, invested so much effort, money,
hope, emotion, so much of my damn life (both literally and
metaphorically) that, as pathetically melodramatic as this may sound,
it would have been less painful if they´d taken a bloody organ from
me instead. It really surprised me how emotional I became about
it.
They´re only books man. But it´s my book man, about my
life. And right now it pretty much is my life. Fuck it, here, take
em.
I asked them what would happen to the books and one of
them said they´d either get dumped or maybe get passed to MCP who
are the concert promoters. They gave me their station address and the
name of the sergeant I should talk to. I went there before the gig
but he wasn´t around so I´ll go back tomorrow.
Another major
fuck up today then. But again, it´s my own fault - although I think
the two Gardai could have let me away with a warning. Is one guy
getting ignored on a street corner trying to sell his own little U2
book that he wrote and published himself such a big deal. Not
counterfeit T-shirts, not forged tickets at inflated prices, not
drugs. Just a (I hope) decent and fairly priced little book. I guess
Dublin´s literary heritage has its limits. I wonder if I could have
sold Bruce Springsteen books.
But the concert was SUPERB!
Feckin amazing! The crowd were easily the most up-for-it yet, the
sing-a-longs were raucous, and often didn´t need U2 to play. "Just
youse stand there for a bit boys cos we wanna sing your songs
altogether!"
Bono did a wonderful wee bit of milking his
Irish and north Dub roots, waving an Irish tricolour, loadsa Dub
references, Hill 16, and best of all, playing Brendan Behan´s The
Auld Triangle with the Edge, and dedicating it to Ronnie Drew -
"the last High King of Ireland".
He also said that
he´d found the sound (I´m guessing the one that he wants to be let
into) - "the sound of home".
The latest and easily
the greatest of all the U2 concerts I´ve seen on this tour. And I´m
back tomorra, which is my only concert on the pitch in GA.
Man,
I just hope I can get my books back. They´re my books, about me, I
can´t help feeling a bit hollow about that still, like I´ve been
robbed. By the police.
The correct response to myself here
would be "so you lost your books, deal with it". Well, I´ll
try.
But shit, it´s sure proved to be a financially and
emotionally draining day. Let´s hope tomorra is a bit more stable
and maybe even upwards.
Dublin, U2, Croke Park. I think it
will be.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-11 show above.)