(no subject)
i'm not sure why this is so hard to get out on paper. thought flows, it usually does, for me. but the gap between that and this little blinking box seems fucking Olympic-length. which, i suppose, is also kind of obnoxious to express, given that it's the experience-report version of the "i need ten people to comment before i'll finish this story!!1" or whatever. but. i mean, can type fluidly and aside from that ongoing thing where my fingers type a word that's not even remotely what i was intending but is still an actual word, this is easy enough to say, just... meh. i have more notes and memory in better order for both LA shows than i do for anything else with the exception of Denver. so i don't know why i keep putting off starting this. aside from a violent allergy to doing anything or being around anyone or doing anything more challenging than reading. bah.
except i like to keep my word. so. here goes.
(firstly, ha, way to go self - i totally have the wrong month written in my notes. i? do NOT win at life.)
this was the day we got there sorta early but not insanely so. drove on up to Staples in the dawn, saw Court and the others already in line, numbered, huddling exhausted in sleeping bags already on the corner. i'm sure we parked in the Staples lot and because we were so damn early i'm pretty certain that was the day we also didn't end up paying anything for parking - because we were there before the attendant. i think it was the next day that the lot was locked and we couldn't get in there. unless i'm mixing my days up, which is eminently possible. i remember haring off around all parts of the building, getting the lay of the land, finding the enormous fucking line of people who were being paid with breakfast from McDonalds and rolls of bills to sit out all night to buy tickets to scalp. this honestly was the most miserable box office line, not just because of the sheer volume of scalpers, but because they were so close and so consistently unpleasant. San Jose - where most of the same suspects were as well anyway - was also less than fun in many ways, but it didn't quite approach LA. i'm probably going to cut in and out of my actual notes as i recall things. i don't know how much or consistent my efforts in noting the verbatim parts will be. caveat lector. we got numbers, they'd saved spots for us when they turned up two hours or so earlier. got the lowest number i'd ever had on my hand, and just like in Denver2, never used it. ahwell. i have no problem with my LA show experiences, they were exactly what i needed after Anaheim. we got numbered, most everyone settled in on the footpath, and then once the barriers were set up they got comfy by the doors - and the bathroom! - that staples were having us use. pam and i headed over to the scalper line of doom and got comfy on the sidewalk across the road from staples - we weren't to be allowed on the grounds until whenever-o'clock, just like normal. we had some confusing moments with seriously rude and unhelpful people and eventually realised the line was going the opposite way to what you'd expect intuitively and so went to the proper back and tried to get warm. they finally moved us across the road and of course, loads of people cut at that point, despite our arguments and bitching. as usual, the security staff couldn't give less of a shit. we had a fairly vicious exchange of words with these two kids who'd just got out of a fucking car with mcbreakfast in hand and then pushed in front of us but had to give it up when very very large scary men started arguing on their behalf. fucking scalpers. okay, i have a modicum of sympathy for the mules in line who were just trying to earn food. i still think it's fucking wrong, though, which tends to colour my perception of most of the non-legit people in line. it was fucking freezing where we ended up - in the shadow of the wall about a hundred degrees around from the others. found out when i went for a walk/visit later that the GA line was in the full sun and they were all getting heatstroke and sunburn over there. heh. no one won that one, really. i had four layers on and was shivering miserable and they had about one each and were boiling miserable. so we visited each other a lot that day. there were alphabet games and hangman and silliness. leaning against the wall, talking along with Boston, talking to other fans, fantasising about the quiz we'd make everyone in line take if we ran the world. deckchairs and snacks and people going on subway runs. julie coming back and forth to check on progress at intervals. people with computers. the line growing and growing and groaning. watching them run boxes upon boxes of gear inside at points. the trucks parked in the back and driving past at points. explaining the stage setup to the people who asked. right. okay. actual notes. well, the bits i can/will share, anyway. some of it is private. despite the way i threw this notebook around at people at times.
Sitting in line for hopeful potential of GA for Staples 1. They are tormenting us via continuous loop (since at least 10 am!) of the audio from the Boston DVD. I haven't seen this since January 3rd, 2004. [oh. that's. um. that's still true. i'd sort of nearly forgotten.] Uh... fuck. And I still know it so well, talking along with Bono - "Larry was 14... still is" - in perfect sync. Streets in this kills me so bad. I can just see it, Hamish so excited, that shot of Bono. The perfect cut in from the ads.
Great irony in the Line of Many Scalpers at "Gone", "Stay" and "Sunday Bloody Sunday". The same jokes, heard over a million times.
Nothing is guaranteed to make you feel sicker faster than realising you don't have your inhalers. Not only am I without my earplugs [sadly lost in Chicago before night 4, fell out of my pocket getting out of Laura's car], my ventolin is still on the floor at home. [I'd actually forgotten that. I must've found a spare somewhere, I get unpleasantly twitchy without my stuff.] ... Would a little bit really like to hug a few people now.
Worried about the others getting sunstroke - me and Pam have been shaded, hanging out with Karl, playing a lot of hangman and famous people alphabet games [oh god, I hope I did write some of those down, some of our jumps were hysterically awful] - but we've been here since 5 and 6am respectively, and Cheryl, Court, Dave, Ally and Michele have been broiling in it. Been perfect, cloudless, hot day.
Yaye. Kat in... fuck, like four days. Wow. Fuck.
"With or Without You." Um. This is... thank God for the Frames and San Diego 2. It feels different.
things get hotter and trickier and more unpleasant. the mood in the line gets positively poisonous. we stay cheerful, actually, though, and half our crowd comes back ectstatic from meeting Bono in the afternoon. reports of that take up most of our minds for a while. we have lunch at some point, some kind soul gets me a fantastic turkey and avocado sub from subway. muhh. i love California. this day and the next, i end up in charge of Cheryl's phone for periods of time since we're so seperate from the others. kinda fun. Cheryl and I, we have third level (and in Staples, that's really more like fourth level) seats and are aiming to get GAs. it doesn't seem like it's going to happen. the geniuses in charge of tickets and lines decide to not do the sensible thing and have one line for GA and one line for anyone, no, they say if you're at the front and don't want the ticket they offer you - whereever it is - you have to go to the back of the line again. mutiny nearly develops. especially since when this happens, all the scalpers get absorbed back into the front section of the line again by their 'mates' and the genuine people get stuck at the actual back. i forget if it's this day or the next that we did actually cycle through the entire - huge - line more than twice. Cheryl gets a better/closer seat early in the afternoon once it becomes apparent that GA is Not Happening. Julie inherits her seat, and after spending an appalling amount of money on eBayed tickets already by this point (oh, if only I knew then what I know know, heh) i couldn't justify doing the same, so i kept my seat and the two of us went off the use the bathrooms at a hotel down the road and find some form of food. we went back to Julie's car to drop off cameras and suchlike, as the Staples people were being absolutely disgusting about the whole thing and refusing cameras in. fuckers. believe me when i say i empathised so, so much with Willie's Grammies story. HEE.
we walked back to the arena, traffic beginning to get INSANE, people everywhere, scalpers everywhere, hummers and hummer limos and all that crap, people honking horns and running red lights because it was faster than they were moving on a green, just total gridlock. went inside. found our seats - way-the-fuck-up-there on the third level, opposite end from the stage on a slight angle. up in The Gods indeed. i still cry 'discrimination' because there is no. fucking. way. those seats should have been priced at what they were, given the viewing angle/ability.
Kings of Leon: still suck. hey, that's a good name for a band - 'sonic suicide'. HEE.
U2 onstage @ 9.55pm [I think I must've been going by the digital setting on my watch. No idea what it really was in LA time.]
Wake Up => 3.00min.
Lights @ 4.00 min, breathing.
Edge @ 4min30.
[too hard to stay in that format. merging.]
Love and Peace or Else, walking, even from our lofty heights, so easy to tell them all apart. i thought i wrote down the order and directions they came out in, apparently not. I loved this opening, and I'm so glad the Denver girls got to see it as well, too. CoBL is brilliant as well, and, sure, in the long run it maybe worked best for the inside shows - because they need that heart of Darkness and all - but Into the Heart into CoBL also worked so beautifully and, just. yeah.
Vertigo and i make a note of the sideways hearts. very cool. i don't remember if this was the first time i noticed them or not. jumping up and down and going NUTS with Julie, right there with me, yelling the spanish. Stories for Boys, god, I love this, can't hear it any other way now, it lives live. it lives. Bono's voice is breaking in it. God. "Wanna make a call to LA, Staples Centre. My name is Bono and I'm lead singer in a band called U2." dying, dying, because of "my name is Glen Hansard and I'm the singer in a moderately successful Irish rockband called the Frames". he's still talking, so vibrant tonight. "Yes, even his mother calls him the Edge, yes." Elevation. i've said it before, but this is our version, ours forever, the way it's been for this tour. i love it so damn much. how did they make this song so different and yet still so right? it's selfish, but I take it also as a kind of gift to those of us who missed the Elevation tour for whatever reason. this too can be yours, now. unique and precious. Larry's face, something I can't read ('shiftily'?) singing during the tease. me and Julie peeing ourselves, just about, clutching and bouncing off our heads. "Larry Mullen is singing tonight. You wanna sing tonight?" was that to Adam? i think it might've been. the screens are bright, the cerulean fading out along with 'out of these blues' and i take a moment for the visual joke, you dorks. "Be gentle, Edge now." why didn't I write this up right away, all the context is slipping through my fingers.
Electric Co., major Edge stomp, moving a lot and so is Adam. wriggling and infectious with it. 'Adventure Adam!' we were calling him for a while, or was that just me, either way, god, to remember when that wasn't commonplace. it's such a gift. Edge well out onto the ramp already, Bono threatening with the mike stand, doing his very best bronze impression. a note from Courtney scribbled at the top of my page, of the bit I couldn't catch, because frankly the sound was shit where we were - couldn't hear the things he said so well. "You're in the sound, the siren sound." straining after that sound, after his words and their music. the maracca things are so noticeable here now, really stand out.
Bono taking the mike stand to the back of the ramp, singing to the people behind the stage. An Cat Dubh, drums, drums, just... oh, yeah. guh. blue light, the spot on Bono, as he hisses and pounces at the front row, all cat. harmonising with Edge, askdjalksdj. getting right up against Adam for the very last "she cat", no stroking, just... presence. Bono crawling long the ramp, microphone tucked into his pants. Into the Heart, another little boy, "well, Jack... this is the beanstalk". raise up, rise up, confetti and the city rising to meet us, times square in the lights, City of Blinding Lights, "keep your hands up" and again we're all with him, in the moment, even if we're miles away, it comes back, i get back a song i haven't had since before Christmas, more strongly than any time before and god, the relief. so perfect. "Can we find Jack a home?" Beautiful Day. Soaring. The lights, the screens, "all the colours come out" and we just go still and silent, because it's not a small voice, it's not calm and it's certainly not the fucking wilderness, but. that moment is magic. everyone should have had a seat at least once to see that rainbow stretch and swirl across the mass of people, it was unspeakably beautiful. i think both Julie and I gasped and went incoherent, i know there was something standout in that moment. blackbird at the end, and it just makes me happy for all the Beatles people i know. "it's time we begin to ride, ride again". right up in Edge's face.
Miracle Drug. Blue washing into red, faster, faster, another thing you need from on high, need from up close, need, need, need. god. this song. i had an epiphany about the lighting, once, but i don't remember it now. neurons and healthy tissue, sick cells, virus chasing vicious across the space, running one into the other. "Doctors and nurses, they're not paid enough, that's what I think." "God gave us science." choking, breaking, swallowing "failure" so that it doesn't come out right, there's no real word there, "there is no-- here sweetheart." talking his head off. Julie "...I need an IV." Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own. all attention on the main pouring out his heart and soul, Edge barely moves. ripping. worrying. the drums are harsh reality. New Years Day rings out like triumph, in a way. Edge gives me chills all over, his voice and guitar. Get to "newspaper" and Edge is playing on Larry's platform, Adam is taking another trip out onto the ramp for a second, Bono going up after. whispering in his ear.
Sunday Bloody Sunday. loud and sudden. coexist. "Jesus, Jews, Moslem too." getting us to chant the "no more"s. Edge singing the outro. "sing it for yourself!" we're so sick of it. "reality tv", catching the different tone and words but not clear enough to make it out until running it over later and assuming that had to be it. "to claim the victory of the holy son." i swear he said that. i could swear it. drums so strong at the end, jesus, Larry. Bullet the Blue Sky => Johnny Comes Marching Home. blinded, stumbling. Edge just... god, all i have written down (oh irony) is that he kills, because, he does, that fucking solo freezes the breath in my lungs, tears. Daniel Pearl's name on the screens. God.
Running to Stand Still. "For all the brave men and women in the military this is for you." harmonica. deaddeaddead.
Zoo Station. this transition worked for me tonight, it never has before. Macphisto giggle. us swooning. broken static running through the lights on the ellipse, i think i may not have noticed that before. all the readys are right, for once. cowboy hat again. falsetto from Edge, "zoo station". "gridlock" and Bono's miming a steering wheel. "I'm ready for the Edge." leaning on each other (back sex!!) and it being broadcast onto the beads - eventually we see the camera man, perched on the side of the tip of the ellipse. sharing a microphone, "time is a train", swaying together, mirroring each other. Bono finally bulling his way past Edge who lifts the neck of his guitar out of his way - Bono's stopping for nothing, it's so vivid. "get a move on..."
"eins, zwei, drei--" looking like he's trying to remember, it's vier-zehn, B, into the Fly. Tight tight huddle, feedback around Larry. "Be gentle with me." the screens. "You have the right to remain silent", twice. "ETC". drums, drums. "Achtung, baby", in just the right place. ending in a huddle again. Jesus H Christ. was there something tonight about "we'll just drink our coffee onstage"? or was that later? one chord... bursting into Mysterious Ways "It's love" and freaking the fuck out, freaking the motherfucking fuck out over that one. tiny. word. and not being able to express the flail and the oh god until i find Courtney after and, just. fuck me. how does he DO that? i love his brain. "Guitar players, they just wanna sing!" I can still hear him say "sing", he's still very Irish sounding, more so than he's been in a while and just... the lean he puts on that word, on the pronounciation. ee. he says something about the tickets - i guess a nod to the trouble getting them? - and puts on a bowler hat. me and Julie are dancing our asses off and singing our lungs out. Pam explaining later that the very end was not just "1, 2, 3, 4" but Larry going "take. off. that. hat." and that people were chucking change, candy, gum into it. Cheryl: "He was asking for it!"
encore break.
Pride bursting into darkness. "gonna walk in a dream with a kiss", god, that knocked me back, i still can't work it what that is, because it reminds me of something, it teases. Streets and I'm dead. "tear down the walls that hold us back tonight" this is all i am. "what else are we gonna do?" Adam and Bono out on the ramp after "dust", Adam in 'our' spot, "I go there with you, it's all I can do" and the lights out, death, he has us all, red to the end. One. "I'll tell ya why we love LA. Because more people live off their imaginations than any other city in the world. We need your imagination." Don't want your money, we do need your help. We want your voice. "Turn down our lights, let's see these little fireflies." Californian in the 60s [or 90s? I can't read my own writing], people did a lot of dreaming. New century - do a lot of doing." Once. "Thanks for the film you made Brad Pitt, this is for you." "Turn off the lights, wanna sing this one in the dark. It's very [and the sound cut and we couldn't hear.]" Eerie and beautiful just to hear the voice. Lights come back after "care for it."
Encore break. All Because of You goess OFF. Yahweh "We're happy but [something] the clapping." Bono's voice is beautiful. Edge's backing vocals to start. "take this city's heart, let it break" and I'm looking where he is, off to the other side of the building, up, what is he seeing. 40 and all I can think is "not already?!"
So glad I got to see and enjoy this show as much as I did - yeah, our seats weren't fabulous, but we just had an amazingly fun time. *hugs the stuffing out of you* Thank you, Julie, seriously. So much fun. We're doing that again someday, right? Right.
I remain amused that Staples felt they had to specifically prohibit beach balls from being brought into the arena. The only thing better than that was in Chicago when Allison came out and just yelled "and NO SAXOPHONES allowed in!" Because, well. HEE.
LA2 sometime later. Can't even see out of the good eye now and my back hurts.
except i like to keep my word. so. here goes.
(firstly, ha, way to go self - i totally have the wrong month written in my notes. i? do NOT win at life.)
this was the day we got there sorta early but not insanely so. drove on up to Staples in the dawn, saw Court and the others already in line, numbered, huddling exhausted in sleeping bags already on the corner. i'm sure we parked in the Staples lot and because we were so damn early i'm pretty certain that was the day we also didn't end up paying anything for parking - because we were there before the attendant. i think it was the next day that the lot was locked and we couldn't get in there. unless i'm mixing my days up, which is eminently possible. i remember haring off around all parts of the building, getting the lay of the land, finding the enormous fucking line of people who were being paid with breakfast from McDonalds and rolls of bills to sit out all night to buy tickets to scalp. this honestly was the most miserable box office line, not just because of the sheer volume of scalpers, but because they were so close and so consistently unpleasant. San Jose - where most of the same suspects were as well anyway - was also less than fun in many ways, but it didn't quite approach LA. i'm probably going to cut in and out of my actual notes as i recall things. i don't know how much or consistent my efforts in noting the verbatim parts will be. caveat lector. we got numbers, they'd saved spots for us when they turned up two hours or so earlier. got the lowest number i'd ever had on my hand, and just like in Denver2, never used it. ahwell. i have no problem with my LA show experiences, they were exactly what i needed after Anaheim. we got numbered, most everyone settled in on the footpath, and then once the barriers were set up they got comfy by the doors - and the bathroom! - that staples were having us use. pam and i headed over to the scalper line of doom and got comfy on the sidewalk across the road from staples - we weren't to be allowed on the grounds until whenever-o'clock, just like normal. we had some confusing moments with seriously rude and unhelpful people and eventually realised the line was going the opposite way to what you'd expect intuitively and so went to the proper back and tried to get warm. they finally moved us across the road and of course, loads of people cut at that point, despite our arguments and bitching. as usual, the security staff couldn't give less of a shit. we had a fairly vicious exchange of words with these two kids who'd just got out of a fucking car with mcbreakfast in hand and then pushed in front of us but had to give it up when very very large scary men started arguing on their behalf. fucking scalpers. okay, i have a modicum of sympathy for the mules in line who were just trying to earn food. i still think it's fucking wrong, though, which tends to colour my perception of most of the non-legit people in line. it was fucking freezing where we ended up - in the shadow of the wall about a hundred degrees around from the others. found out when i went for a walk/visit later that the GA line was in the full sun and they were all getting heatstroke and sunburn over there. heh. no one won that one, really. i had four layers on and was shivering miserable and they had about one each and were boiling miserable. so we visited each other a lot that day. there were alphabet games and hangman and silliness. leaning against the wall, talking along with Boston, talking to other fans, fantasising about the quiz we'd make everyone in line take if we ran the world. deckchairs and snacks and people going on subway runs. julie coming back and forth to check on progress at intervals. people with computers. the line growing and growing and groaning. watching them run boxes upon boxes of gear inside at points. the trucks parked in the back and driving past at points. explaining the stage setup to the people who asked. right. okay. actual notes. well, the bits i can/will share, anyway. some of it is private. despite the way i threw this notebook around at people at times.
Sitting in line for hopeful potential of GA for Staples 1. They are tormenting us via continuous loop (since at least 10 am!) of the audio from the Boston DVD. I haven't seen this since January 3rd, 2004. [oh. that's. um. that's still true. i'd sort of nearly forgotten.] Uh... fuck. And I still know it so well, talking along with Bono - "Larry was 14... still is" - in perfect sync. Streets in this kills me so bad. I can just see it, Hamish so excited, that shot of Bono. The perfect cut in from the ads.
Great irony in the Line of Many Scalpers at "Gone", "Stay" and "Sunday Bloody Sunday". The same jokes, heard over a million times.
Nothing is guaranteed to make you feel sicker faster than realising you don't have your inhalers. Not only am I without my earplugs [sadly lost in Chicago before night 4, fell out of my pocket getting out of Laura's car], my ventolin is still on the floor at home. [I'd actually forgotten that. I must've found a spare somewhere, I get unpleasantly twitchy without my stuff.] ... Would a little bit really like to hug a few people now.
Worried about the others getting sunstroke - me and Pam have been shaded, hanging out with Karl, playing a lot of hangman and famous people alphabet games [oh god, I hope I did write some of those down, some of our jumps were hysterically awful] - but we've been here since 5 and 6am respectively, and Cheryl, Court, Dave, Ally and Michele have been broiling in it. Been perfect, cloudless, hot day.
Yaye. Kat in... fuck, like four days. Wow. Fuck.
"With or Without You." Um. This is... thank God for the Frames and San Diego 2. It feels different.
things get hotter and trickier and more unpleasant. the mood in the line gets positively poisonous. we stay cheerful, actually, though, and half our crowd comes back ectstatic from meeting Bono in the afternoon. reports of that take up most of our minds for a while. we have lunch at some point, some kind soul gets me a fantastic turkey and avocado sub from subway. muhh. i love California. this day and the next, i end up in charge of Cheryl's phone for periods of time since we're so seperate from the others. kinda fun. Cheryl and I, we have third level (and in Staples, that's really more like fourth level) seats and are aiming to get GAs. it doesn't seem like it's going to happen. the geniuses in charge of tickets and lines decide to not do the sensible thing and have one line for GA and one line for anyone, no, they say if you're at the front and don't want the ticket they offer you - whereever it is - you have to go to the back of the line again. mutiny nearly develops. especially since when this happens, all the scalpers get absorbed back into the front section of the line again by their 'mates' and the genuine people get stuck at the actual back. i forget if it's this day or the next that we did actually cycle through the entire - huge - line more than twice. Cheryl gets a better/closer seat early in the afternoon once it becomes apparent that GA is Not Happening. Julie inherits her seat, and after spending an appalling amount of money on eBayed tickets already by this point (oh, if only I knew then what I know know, heh) i couldn't justify doing the same, so i kept my seat and the two of us went off the use the bathrooms at a hotel down the road and find some form of food. we went back to Julie's car to drop off cameras and suchlike, as the Staples people were being absolutely disgusting about the whole thing and refusing cameras in. fuckers. believe me when i say i empathised so, so much with Willie's Grammies story. HEE.
we walked back to the arena, traffic beginning to get INSANE, people everywhere, scalpers everywhere, hummers and hummer limos and all that crap, people honking horns and running red lights because it was faster than they were moving on a green, just total gridlock. went inside. found our seats - way-the-fuck-up-there on the third level, opposite end from the stage on a slight angle. up in The Gods indeed. i still cry 'discrimination' because there is no. fucking. way. those seats should have been priced at what they were, given the viewing angle/ability.
Kings of Leon: still suck. hey, that's a good name for a band - 'sonic suicide'. HEE.
U2 onstage @ 9.55pm [I think I must've been going by the digital setting on my watch. No idea what it really was in LA time.]
Wake Up => 3.00min.
Lights @ 4.00 min, breathing.
Edge @ 4min30.
[too hard to stay in that format. merging.]
Love and Peace or Else, walking, even from our lofty heights, so easy to tell them all apart. i thought i wrote down the order and directions they came out in, apparently not. I loved this opening, and I'm so glad the Denver girls got to see it as well, too. CoBL is brilliant as well, and, sure, in the long run it maybe worked best for the inside shows - because they need that heart of Darkness and all - but Into the Heart into CoBL also worked so beautifully and, just. yeah.
Vertigo and i make a note of the sideways hearts. very cool. i don't remember if this was the first time i noticed them or not. jumping up and down and going NUTS with Julie, right there with me, yelling the spanish. Stories for Boys, god, I love this, can't hear it any other way now, it lives live. it lives. Bono's voice is breaking in it. God. "Wanna make a call to LA, Staples Centre. My name is Bono and I'm lead singer in a band called U2." dying, dying, because of "my name is Glen Hansard and I'm the singer in a moderately successful Irish rockband called the Frames". he's still talking, so vibrant tonight. "Yes, even his mother calls him the Edge, yes." Elevation. i've said it before, but this is our version, ours forever, the way it's been for this tour. i love it so damn much. how did they make this song so different and yet still so right? it's selfish, but I take it also as a kind of gift to those of us who missed the Elevation tour for whatever reason. this too can be yours, now. unique and precious. Larry's face, something I can't read ('shiftily'?) singing during the tease. me and Julie peeing ourselves, just about, clutching and bouncing off our heads. "Larry Mullen is singing tonight. You wanna sing tonight?" was that to Adam? i think it might've been. the screens are bright, the cerulean fading out along with 'out of these blues' and i take a moment for the visual joke, you dorks. "Be gentle, Edge now." why didn't I write this up right away, all the context is slipping through my fingers.
Electric Co., major Edge stomp, moving a lot and so is Adam. wriggling and infectious with it. 'Adventure Adam!' we were calling him for a while, or was that just me, either way, god, to remember when that wasn't commonplace. it's such a gift. Edge well out onto the ramp already, Bono threatening with the mike stand, doing his very best bronze impression. a note from Courtney scribbled at the top of my page, of the bit I couldn't catch, because frankly the sound was shit where we were - couldn't hear the things he said so well. "You're in the sound, the siren sound." straining after that sound, after his words and their music. the maracca things are so noticeable here now, really stand out.
Bono taking the mike stand to the back of the ramp, singing to the people behind the stage. An Cat Dubh, drums, drums, just... oh, yeah. guh. blue light, the spot on Bono, as he hisses and pounces at the front row, all cat. harmonising with Edge, askdjalksdj. getting right up against Adam for the very last "she cat", no stroking, just... presence. Bono crawling long the ramp, microphone tucked into his pants. Into the Heart, another little boy, "well, Jack... this is the beanstalk". raise up, rise up, confetti and the city rising to meet us, times square in the lights, City of Blinding Lights, "keep your hands up" and again we're all with him, in the moment, even if we're miles away, it comes back, i get back a song i haven't had since before Christmas, more strongly than any time before and god, the relief. so perfect. "Can we find Jack a home?" Beautiful Day. Soaring. The lights, the screens, "all the colours come out" and we just go still and silent, because it's not a small voice, it's not calm and it's certainly not the fucking wilderness, but. that moment is magic. everyone should have had a seat at least once to see that rainbow stretch and swirl across the mass of people, it was unspeakably beautiful. i think both Julie and I gasped and went incoherent, i know there was something standout in that moment. blackbird at the end, and it just makes me happy for all the Beatles people i know. "it's time we begin to ride, ride again". right up in Edge's face.
Miracle Drug. Blue washing into red, faster, faster, another thing you need from on high, need from up close, need, need, need. god. this song. i had an epiphany about the lighting, once, but i don't remember it now. neurons and healthy tissue, sick cells, virus chasing vicious across the space, running one into the other. "Doctors and nurses, they're not paid enough, that's what I think." "God gave us science." choking, breaking, swallowing "failure" so that it doesn't come out right, there's no real word there, "there is no-- here sweetheart." talking his head off. Julie "...I need an IV." Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own. all attention on the main pouring out his heart and soul, Edge barely moves. ripping. worrying. the drums are harsh reality. New Years Day rings out like triumph, in a way. Edge gives me chills all over, his voice and guitar. Get to "newspaper" and Edge is playing on Larry's platform, Adam is taking another trip out onto the ramp for a second, Bono going up after. whispering in his ear.
Sunday Bloody Sunday. loud and sudden. coexist. "Jesus, Jews, Moslem too." getting us to chant the "no more"s. Edge singing the outro. "sing it for yourself!" we're so sick of it. "reality tv", catching the different tone and words but not clear enough to make it out until running it over later and assuming that had to be it. "to claim the victory of the holy son." i swear he said that. i could swear it. drums so strong at the end, jesus, Larry. Bullet the Blue Sky => Johnny Comes Marching Home. blinded, stumbling. Edge just... god, all i have written down (oh irony) is that he kills, because, he does, that fucking solo freezes the breath in my lungs, tears. Daniel Pearl's name on the screens. God.
Running to Stand Still. "For all the brave men and women in the military this is for you." harmonica. deaddeaddead.
Zoo Station. this transition worked for me tonight, it never has before. Macphisto giggle. us swooning. broken static running through the lights on the ellipse, i think i may not have noticed that before. all the readys are right, for once. cowboy hat again. falsetto from Edge, "zoo station". "gridlock" and Bono's miming a steering wheel. "I'm ready for the Edge." leaning on each other (back sex!!) and it being broadcast onto the beads - eventually we see the camera man, perched on the side of the tip of the ellipse. sharing a microphone, "time is a train", swaying together, mirroring each other. Bono finally bulling his way past Edge who lifts the neck of his guitar out of his way - Bono's stopping for nothing, it's so vivid. "get a move on..."
"eins, zwei, drei--" looking like he's trying to remember, it's vier-zehn, B, into the Fly. Tight tight huddle, feedback around Larry. "Be gentle with me." the screens. "You have the right to remain silent", twice. "ETC". drums, drums. "Achtung, baby", in just the right place. ending in a huddle again. Jesus H Christ. was there something tonight about "we'll just drink our coffee onstage"? or was that later? one chord... bursting into Mysterious Ways "It's love" and freaking the fuck out, freaking the motherfucking fuck out over that one. tiny. word. and not being able to express the flail and the oh god until i find Courtney after and, just. fuck me. how does he DO that? i love his brain. "Guitar players, they just wanna sing!" I can still hear him say "sing", he's still very Irish sounding, more so than he's been in a while and just... the lean he puts on that word, on the pronounciation. ee. he says something about the tickets - i guess a nod to the trouble getting them? - and puts on a bowler hat. me and Julie are dancing our asses off and singing our lungs out. Pam explaining later that the very end was not just "1, 2, 3, 4" but Larry going "take. off. that. hat." and that people were chucking change, candy, gum into it. Cheryl: "He was asking for it!"
encore break.
Pride bursting into darkness. "gonna walk in a dream with a kiss", god, that knocked me back, i still can't work it what that is, because it reminds me of something, it teases. Streets and I'm dead. "tear down the walls that hold us back tonight" this is all i am. "what else are we gonna do?" Adam and Bono out on the ramp after "dust", Adam in 'our' spot, "I go there with you, it's all I can do" and the lights out, death, he has us all, red to the end. One. "I'll tell ya why we love LA. Because more people live off their imaginations than any other city in the world. We need your imagination." Don't want your money, we do need your help. We want your voice. "Turn down our lights, let's see these little fireflies." Californian in the 60s [or 90s? I can't read my own writing], people did a lot of dreaming. New century - do a lot of doing." Once. "Thanks for the film you made Brad Pitt, this is for you." "Turn off the lights, wanna sing this one in the dark. It's very [and the sound cut and we couldn't hear.]" Eerie and beautiful just to hear the voice. Lights come back after "care for it."
Encore break. All Because of You goess OFF. Yahweh "We're happy but [something] the clapping." Bono's voice is beautiful. Edge's backing vocals to start. "take this city's heart, let it break" and I'm looking where he is, off to the other side of the building, up, what is he seeing. 40 and all I can think is "not already?!"
So glad I got to see and enjoy this show as much as I did - yeah, our seats weren't fabulous, but we just had an amazingly fun time. *hugs the stuffing out of you* Thank you, Julie, seriously. So much fun. We're doing that again someday, right? Right.
I remain amused that Staples felt they had to specifically prohibit beach balls from being brought into the arena. The only thing better than that was in Chicago when Allison came out and just yelled "and NO SAXOPHONES allowed in!" Because, well. HEE.
LA2 sometime later. Can't even see out of the good eye now and my back hurts.