It’s finally happened…the most important band in the world has become just another aging rock act trying to hold on to its former glory.  With their latest release, No Line on the Horizon, U2, who once graced the cover of Time magazine, barely belongs on the cover of Rolling Stone.

 

I say this as a life long U2 fan.  I was with the band from the early days of Boy, October and War.  I watched, and listened, as they grew from anthem belting flag wavers to seekers of the American truth.  I reveled in their glory as The Unforgettable Fire led to the groundbreaking Joshua Tree…one of the 10 best albums ever made…by anyone.  I marveled how they followed that album up with the completely different sounds of Achtung Baby.  Admittedly they lost me with Zooropa and Pop but all great bands have their misses.  To their credit they were able to bring me back into the fold with the beautifully crafted All That You Can’t Leave Behind…and then the powerful How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb.  The latter was a strong effort that led me to second guess my belief that no band should stay together this long because at some point you just lose that thing that made you special in the first place.

 

Unfortunately, with No Line, the boys from Ireland prove me right once again.  There’s just nothing new here…nothing exciting…dare I say…nothing relevant.  Bands like U2, The Rolling Stones and every other dinosaur act out there either still trudging along or on their 13^th reunion tour, just don’t know when to say when.  They’re like great prize fighters who can’t hang up the gloves.  The Beatles had it right.  They went out on top and then Mark Chapman did them a favor by making sure there wouldn’t be a reunion tour.  What?  I’m just saying.

 

It’s all about relevancy…and there’s just nothing relevant about the new U2 album.  Sure there’s a decent song or two…but that’s about it.  Every album out there has a decent song or two on it.  I could put out an album with at least one or two good songs.  This is U2…the expectation is at least eight great songs, one pretty good song, one so so song and a self indulgent bonus track.

 

And now comes word that the band will embark on another world tour that by the time it wraps up will have seen three of the four members celebrate their 50^th birthday.  The big buzz over the U2 360 Degrees Tour is that the band is breaking new ground by playing stadiums “in the round.”  Great, I finally get to see the band perform from behind…I’m complete.

Johnny Rotten said it best when he sneered at a crowd during the final Sex Pistols show in 1978 and uttered a rhetorical question to the audience: "Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?" 


Like Pete Townsend of The Who, who a dozen years before him penned the classic line, “I hope I die before I get old”, Rotten knew that a band’s greatest sin was becoming a caricature of itself.  Neil Young knew it too when he wrote, “It’s better to burn out than fade away.”  Pity that Young, Townsend and even Rotten didn’t heed their own prophetic words.  It’s even more of a pity that U2, a great band…one the 10 best ever, is going to hang on too long too.  They burned for a long time, but are fading fast.  





Top 5 U2 Songs 

1. Bad
2. The Sweetest Thing
3. MLK
4. Running to Stand Still
5. With or Without You

Bryan
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The time has come for me to lighten the load of a rather heavy burden I have carried for far too long now.  Like many of the performers I have come to admire over the years, I share a common, persistent phobia…a deep, gripping apprehension…an almost paralyzing fear…stage fright. 



The great Sir Laurence Olivier, the inimitable Barbara Streisand and even the ever smiling Donny Osmond all suffered from performance anxiety.  John Cougar Mellencamp would rather perform inside the closet of a little pink house than in front of a crowd.  And Sex Pistol Sid Vicious threw up each night before taking the stage…although that might have been the heroin and not stage fright.

 

While these legendary performers were all dreadfully afraid of the big stage, my fear involves a much smaller venue.  You see, as a male of the species, I’m expected to, at the drop of a hat, at a moments notice, without hesitation, be able to drop my trousers and well, ah, um, shall we say, water the plants.  Yes, I said it; I don’t like to pee in public restrooms. 



I dread it!  So much so that I’ll avoid it to the point of extreme discomfort…nearly risking a ruptured bladder in some cases.  Not an easy task when you work 10-12 hours a day and drink as much coffee as I do.  I find myself going to the restroom at work only when I know nobody else is in there…and then I always use a stall…never the urinal.  But even then, the anxiety can be overwhelming.

 

Case in point: The other day after lunch, which I washed down with three iced teas, I really needed to relieve myself upon my return to the office.  So after mustering up all of my inner strength I made my way into my own personal Temple of Doom: the company men’s room, which consists of a pair of side by side urinals and two stalls.  Right away I knew I was in trouble. 


Perched high atop a ladder working on something in the ceiling was a maintenance worker.  I immediately thought about turning around and walking out but he had already seen me and that would have been weird.  Ok, weirder.  So I made my way to the furthest stall, closed the door, locked the latch and prepared for the task at hand.  So I’m standing there, unzipped and ready to go…but I can feel the maintenance worker peering down on me over the stall from high atop his ladder…and nothing is happening…and now I’m thinking about it…still nothing…and now I’m thinking he’s thinking about it…still nothing. 

 

Now you’ve got to understand...this fear, this phobia, this stage fright has been a long time in the making. 


I was an only child and never had to deal with sharing a bathroom with prying brothers or sisters.  Add that to the Lord of the Flies like atmosphere that is the boy’s bathroom in junior high and high school and it’s a wonder I can go at all.  It’s not that I have anything to hide…on the contrary.  I’m just a private person.  When it comes to the water closet, I simply don’t want to come out of the closet. 

 

So I’m still standing there in the back stall…it feels like an eternity now and still nothing.  Finally the maintenance worker descends from his ladder and leaves.  Ah, the floodgates open.  I zip up, head to the sink, wash my hands, dry them and head out the door.  Oh man, there he is, the maintenance worker is waiting in the hall by the restroom door.  He must have left because he knew I couldn’t go.  I turn away and act like I don’t see him.  Oh the shame.  Now I have to kill him.  I don’t want him telling his fellow maintenance workers.  I can already hear their whispers.  Wait, maybe he just left because it’s a requirement…maybe they can’t work in the bathroom when people are in there.  Ok, yeah, that’s it. Whew. 

 

Back at my desk I contemplate my urinary dilemma.  Why must this private endeavor be turned into such a public display. 



Am I so strange that I don’t wish to discuss last night’s game or where we’re going to lunch while I stand inches away from a colleague with our pants unzipped and bodily fluid emanating from us?  And now you expect me to get in what amounts to a police lineup and go in a pig trough at a sporting event? 



You’ve got to be kidding.  Women can’t possibly understand this; you have couches in your bathrooms.  Couches?  The last thing I want to do is lounge around on a couch while my buddy unloads lunch a few feet away.

I see no remedy for this affliction…and quite frankly I’m not looking for one.  Mock me if you will…question my manhood…poke fun at my peeing proclivity…it matters not to me.  I embrace my stage fright.  Jerry Seinfeld once observed that stage fright was the number one most common fear, number two being death, and that if death was less frightening than public speaking, then at a funeral you should feel more pity for the person giving the eulogy than the person in the casket.  I say feel no pity for me as I pee in private.  




Top 5 Songs About Bathrooms 

1. “Flushed From the Bathroom of Your Love” – Johnny Cash

2. “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window” – The Beatles

3. “Mirror in the Bathroom” – English Beat

4. “30 Years in the Bathroom” – Wonderstuff

5. “Smokin’ in the Boy’s Room” – Brownsville Station

 

Bryan

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I was born in 1977.  I say that not to make anybody feel old. (Or worse, make others think I’m old) I just want you to get a perspective of where I’m coming from. When I began to appreciate music it was 1982.  I remember listening to the soundtrack to Flash Gordon on an 8 track over and over again.  Man, what a great soundtrack.

Anyway, after the 8 track I went straight to cassette tape, then of course to CD.  Now here I am in 2009 and I have 3 iPods (that’s another story for another day) and about 750 CDs.  Lost in my life has been the experience of the record.  Until this past Friday.

 

  I had read that the record was coming back.  Not storming into our lives like Pokémon or anything, but at a relative steady clip.  This was pretty good for something that was said to have gone the way of the dinosaur.  I had to get in on this. So in preparation for an eventual record purchase, I asked for a record player for Christmas and I got it. 

 

Next was the hard part. I wasn’t going to just go out and buy ANY record for my first time.  (Now granted I had heard records in the past, but that was 25 years ago. So it’s like my first time) Did I want to go with a classic? “Dark Side of the Moon”?  “Led Zeppelin IV”?  No and No.  Simple reason- I know those classics like the back of my hand.  It would be too easy to compare CD vs. record.  I wasn’t looking to find out what was better.  Though some people claim the record is far superior to a CD.  Another argument for another day.  No, what I wanted to do was listen to a record for the first time without any idea as to what the music would sound like; both in terms of the music itself that the band made and how it sounds on vinyl. 

 

So I chose the new U2 record.  Full disclosure- I still bought the CD and a digital copy from iTunes.  You know, just in case. 

 

When I get home from work on Friday I see the box from Amazon and immediately know what it is.  When I finally unwrap it, the first thing I notice is the size and weight of the record and packaging that it comes in.  Granted it’s a double record, but the weight is not what I expected.  Then I notice it has a certain smell about it.  I’m not sure what it smells like.  I guess it’s what records smell like.  The next thing that jumps out at me is the size of the pictures.  Remember- I’m a child of cassettes, and then CDs.  I’ve never seen a picture this big of any artists whose music I’ve bought.  I take out the first record and notice that the first side only has 2 songs on it.  2 songs.  Then I have to flip it over.  It made me appreciate the music more.  Why?  Because I had to work to hear it.  When the music ran out, I couldn’t hit the “back” button like a CD or MP3 player.  I had to walk over to the record player and flip the vinyl over.  As I sat back down, wiping my brow and basking in the fruits of my labor I began to realize I could get used to this vinyl thing.  And the little sound between songs- wonderful.  It builds this anticipation to the next song.  How much time is left in the song?  I don’t know.  There is no digital output of any sorts.  Now I no longer can see how much time is left in the song.  I can only sit back and take it in. 

 

As for the audio quality, it is not as good as a CD or an MP3 player.  Perhaps it could be, I don’t know.  This record player came from Target, has a radio and tape deck and cost 90 bucks.  So we’re not talking the higher end of hi-fidelity here.  But it doesn’t sound bad.  In fact, there’s some kind of nostalgia factor about it.  I guess the best years of my life where lived in the 8-Track/cassette days and the sound of those weren’t crystal clear either. 

 

All and all, I am very pleased with the record; both for the songs that U2 put on it and the record as a “new” form of entertainment.   I don’t think I’m close to ditching the CD for records. But if it’s something I’m really looking forward to, I can see getting it on vinyl as well.  This new experience with the record has opened my mind to trying new things.  Who knows what else I’m missing?  Here’s hoping for a speedy return to the 8-track.

 

 

The World’s 10 Most Valuable Vinyl Records*

1. John Lennon & Yoko Ono – Double Fantasy (Geffen US Album, 1980)

Note: Autographed by Lennon five hours before Mark David Chapman assassinated him.
Value: $525,000

2. The Quarrymen – “That’ll Be the Day”/”In Spite Of All The Danger” (UK 78 RPM, Acetate in plain sleeve, 1958)
Note: Only one copy made.
Value: $180,000

3. The Beatles – Yesterday and Today (Capitol, US Album in ‘butcher’ sleeve, 1966)
Value: $38,500, though more typically prices range from $150-$7500

4. Bob Dylan – The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan (CBS, US album, stereo 1963 featuring 4 tracks deleted from subsequent releases)
Value: $35,000

5. Long Cleve Reed & Little Harvey Hull – “Original Stack O’Lee Blues” (Black Patti, US 78 RPM in plain sleeve, 1927)
Value: $30,000

Thoughts? Concerns?  Email Raim.

 

 * Thanks to nylvi for the info

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about death…the final farewell…shaking off the mortal coil…taking a dirt nap.  Relax, it’s not what you think…I’m not depressed…I don’t have any health issues (that I know of) and all indications are that I’ll be around for a while.  Heck, I’m only 42…I have at least three more good years ahead of me.  It’s just that for some reason I’ve become obsessed with what my funeral will be like…or more importantly, what music will be played during my big sendoff.

 

You laugh, but I’m serious.  Whenever they get to the funeral scene in a movie there’s always the perfect song playing in the background…at first softly under an eloquent eulogy delivered by a grief stricken loved one…then the music builds to a crescendo, the lyrics capturing the essence of the dearly departed’s life while not a dry eye can be found in the house.

 

Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve been to a couple “real life” funerals and it’s nothing like that.  Usually the eulogy is awkwardly delivered by someone who shouldn’t be allowed to speak in front of first graders, let alone be responsible for summing up another’s life.  And the music…oh man, it’s usually a 97 year old church lady organ player who looks, and sounds, like she should be in the coffin.  Or it’s the awkward acoustic guitar number performed by a high school drama student whose vocals make the deceased glad they’re dead and unable to hear the sounds supposedly meant to send them sweetly to that great beyond.

 

So in an effort to avoid a sub par musical presentation at my funeral and a less than memorable outing for those in attendance, I have come up with a list of songs that I want played at the big event.  This list is going to be included as part of my last will and testament and the collection of any of my earthly possessions will be incumbent on its proper execution.  Here’s what I’d like:

 

1. 1. As the capacity crowd is filing in to the stadium (a church will be too small), I’d like “I’m Going Home” from the Rocky Horror Picture Show playing over the building’s sound system while the corresponding scene from the movie is played on a giant video screen (or Jumbotron) on a loop.  A good 20 plays should suffice.

I'm Going Home

  

When all the dark clouds roll away and the sun begins to shine…I see my freedom from across the way and it comes right in on time. Well it shines so bright and it gives so much light and it comes from the sky above…Makes me feel so free makes me feel like me and lights my life with love. 

 
3. Ok, now it’s time to get serious and get down to the business at hand…getting me to my great reward.  So after the first of two eulogies, this one from the Pope, I’ll offer up Bob Dylan’s “Tryin’ to Get to Heaven Before They Close the Door,” a song that epitomizes the long lonely journey: Tryin to Get to Heaven


People are on the platforms, waitin' for the trains
I can hear their hearts a beatin'
Like pendulums swinging on chains
When you think that you've lost everything
You find out you can always lose a little more
I'm just goin' down the road feeling bad
Tryin' to get to heaven before they close the door.  



4. With the proper tone now set…we turn to the second eulogy, this one delivered by a teary eyed Ramon as he recites the words to Peter Gabriel’s “I Grieve”.  As he chokes back more water works, we kick it up a notch and drop in a 2-fer from U2. I’d start it off with the haunting “MLK.”  MLK

Sleep...Sleep tonight...And may your dreams...Be realized
If the thunder cloud...Passes rain...So let it rain...Rain down on me
So let it be 

Without a pause we segue right into “One Step Closer”  One Step Closer

I'm on an island at a busy intersection

I can't go forward, I can't turn back

Can't see the future
It's getting away from me

I just watch the tail lights glowing

One step closer to knowing

     


5. So now that there’s not a dry eye in the house and all of the women (and Ramon) who threw themselves on my casket are back in their seats, we’ll close things out with The Smiths “Please, Please, Please.”  I had thought about going with Pink Floyd’s “Goodbye Cruel World” but it’s a bit too biting and I don’t want that bitter taste to be left in the mouths of the mourners so I went with the less caustic, more melancholy “Please, Please, Please”  Please Please Please



Haven’t had a dream in a long time
See, the life I’ve had
Can make a good man bad
So for once in my life
Let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time

   

 

So there it is…my funeral playlist.  As an added bonus, mourners will be handed a CD with all of the aforementioned songs as they leave the service.  It will of course be a picture disc with my smiling mug on the cover.  If you’re lucky enough to make the invite list you’ll have a lasting keepsake to boot.  If you don’t make the cut I’m sure they’ll show up on E-bay eventually as some of the less scrupulous attendees try to cash in on my demise and generosity.  I can’t say I blame them.  This funeral will be talked about for years.  My one regret…I won’t be in the audience with you to enjoy it.

 Top 5 Things I Hope Are Said At My Funeral 

1. He was a good man
2. That was the best music I ever heard at a funeral
3. I wish I had slept with him
4. He really did know more about music than Raim
5. Is that his hand moving?

Bryan
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We’re not allowed to wear headphones but can bring a radio on the ride.  I had to find a way to put my iPod and some sort of speaker on my bike.  Finally, after 6 weeks of searching I found a pouch that fits snugly on my bike and allows me to have my iPod and a single speaker that really sounds great.  Just in time too because I was about to just go “Dorothy” from The Wizard of Oz and put a basket on my handle bars. 



Well this weekend was my first ride with my new setup.  By the way, I really did try for the 5.1 surround sound for my bike, but to no avail.  Anyway, my first ride with the iPod was an experience.  For my ride I chose “My Favorites” category to listen to while I rode.    As luck would have it the first song was Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song.  Perfect!  For the next 2 1/2 minutes, I was a machine on the bike.  Then came Eruption by Van Halen.  BINGO!  2 more minutes of me tearing up the streets on my bike.  My good fortune lasted about another 30 minutes.  Sympathy for the Devil, Rolling Stones.  Light My Fire, The Doors.  Heart Breaker, Led Zeppelin again.  I look down at my odometer and I’ve gone 6 miles without much exertion. 

Then it happened.

First, let me say it’s my fault.  I really need to come up with a better playlist for riding my bike.  And I will.  But I also need to make sure I can quickly access the iPod in times where I need to change a song or I get to the end of my play list. 

OK, back to the ride.




See, at around the 6 mile mark I hear the opening bits of one of my favorite songs.  Truly a classic sung by one of the greatest of all time.  It was Crying by Roy Orbison.  Immediately I knew I was in trouble.  I couldn’t get to my iPod to change the song.  So for 3 minutes I’m listening to the song thinking everything will be OK.  Unfortunately for me it wasn’t.  Next song?  Colour My World, Chicago.  Next?  Tonight’s the Night, Rod Stewart.   Excruciating. 



It was enough battling just riding 11 miles and the wind and the people zooming past at 60 miles an hour.  (Seriously people, move over into the other lane, even if there is a wide shoulder for us bikers.  Geez)  But now I'm battling what should have been my greatest tool- my music.  Do you know how hard that is?  Very upsetting.  It's like your best friend turning on you. 

Well, I made it through the 11 miles we set out to ride, but I learned a valuable lesson: song selection is key.  More important than bringing a spare tire. And maybe more important than bringing water. 

As I mentioned, I’m riding in the MS 150 to help battle Multiple Sclerosis.  Please head on over here to learn more and maybe make a donation go here.




Top 5 songs NOT to listen to while working out:

5. Danny’s Song- Anne Murray
4. Mandy- Barry Manillow
3. Mama Mia- ABBA
2. Anything from the album Tapestry- Carole King
1. Muskrat Love- Captain and Tennile

Raim
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