As lockdown kicked in across the world, to varying degrees and with varying degrees of success, many of us turned to social media, fitness, Tik Tok, learning a new skill or relying on something familiar to get us through the madness. A hashtag popped up on Twitter, a calling, a rallying cry, an invitation if you will to gig our way through lockdown together. Together but at home. We've all got the footage somewhere in one format or another. Whether it be on VHS or Betamax, DVD or YouTube, we can all be in Boston, Sydney, Sarajevo, Red Rocks or Paris in a moments notice but we've usually not got the need, the timing, organisation or effort to be there together. Lockdown tore up the rule book and #U2togetherathome or #U2getherathome (as I seemed to drift into) was born!
I missed the first U2 Together at Home gig. Well, I didn't actually miss it as such, but I did, somehow, manage to be at the wrong version of the same gig. I think it was Boston 360. "We are both fluent Bof, sadly in different languages". It became apparent, early on, that in my rush to get in position - one earplug in one ear, one ear free for the family, one eye on the screen, one eye on my dildo piece to move around the Stranger Things Monopoly board (why I had to have the dildo piece I have no idea nor do I have any idea why a dildo would be relevant to Stranger Things!?) - anyway it became apparent that I was watching a gig with a different running order, bits missing and the excitement of tweeting a running commentary would be a waste of time as I would only be tweeting myself. Nothing new there of course. Mid way through I gave up on the gig and focused all my attention on the Stranger Things Monopoly Marathon and swiftly snatched defeat from the jaws of victory!
It was, therefore, with a steely determination, that I was going to be at Sydney ZOOTV, front row, ready. Even early. Prepared to virtually queue if necessary. Yes traffic had been kind through Sydney, no it didn't raise any concerns, although I did think it odd that Megan Click, Brendan Hughes, Jean Pierre and Francesco Calimeri were still nursing full pints with whiskey chasers as the cabbie raced past The Baxter Inn, but then I just assumed they had a plan to be there on time. Maybe they didn't want to see the support act? Thinking back they were looking a bit too chilled.
I arrived early and the t shirt dudes were nowhere to be seen. Gates locked. As I wondered around the Stadium my heart sank. Had I missed another gig? Wrong place right time or right place wrong time? Please tell me I hadn't missed it? A tweet to the U2 underworld and it seemed everyone had switched days and gone all Poker Face! Right place wrong time but luckily a day early which at least meant I could come back tomorrow and enjoy the gig.
I rounded the stadium and bumped into a long line of folk set up a day early to ensure they were the first in the stadium when the doors opened. At the front was Jo D the Mad Flea, Amrice78 and Super Yo harmonising an acapella version of A Sort of Homecoming. They seemed happy enough at the front with a few beers, a cooler, a huge bag of pic n mix and an array of sleeping bags. I'm not sure how long they had been there to secure the front but Ksea was close to solving the Rubiks Cube and Colin Scrimyeor had fashioned a substantial beard that in 27 years time, I would guess, could be the norm.
This is my 10th year as a non drinker. 10 years since my last alcoholic beverage in any capacity and 10 years without a hangover. In '93 however I was a heavy drinker. A heavy binge drinker. Many a weekend would disappear between Thursday and Monday. Many a time I turned up for work on a Monday missing an eyebrow or sporting forehead stitches after glassing myself but that's probably for a blog all of it's own! In this new age of virtual gigs and as The Ancient One explained to Bruce it's a complicated multiverse and with a slight crossing of timelines who's to say I can't nip out for a few swifties, nothing too heavy, in and around The Syd!
'A few swifties' was a phrase from my first job. A day would usually start with a conscientious effort to work hard but by 10am there would be two or three of us buckling and suggesting a 'swift one' at lunchtime in The Ivy Bush. A 'swift one' at lunchtime would be a swift three and the 2pm - 4pm flex work time slot would then be filled with recruiting company for 'a few swifties' at 4pm. Often followed with the hollow promise of 'nothing too heavy'. Inevitably ending up with being kicked out of The Ivy at 11pm and falling asleep on the No11 bus around Birmingham for several hours before the driver finally kicks you off as his shift finishes to walk the 4 miles home to arrive just as the sun comes up and an hour or so before needing to catch the same bus back into work for another day.
Back in Sydney the obvious place to start would be The Baxter Inn. I jumped in a cab and along the way it stopped for Mike Bray, Greg Astill, Dawn Lunachic and Elizabeth Phelix. I didn't mind the company as it split the cost and as they were all sporting JT '87 Tour shirts I knew, if nothing else, we could chat U2. It seems the cabbie was a fan too and was happy to stick my TDK90 cassette in his car stereo and give us a blast of 'The Joshua Tree & Unavailable B Sides'. A tape that hadn't left my side for 6 years and was usually found in my indestructible AIWA HS-PX370 personal stereo.
The Baxters Inn was heaving with pre gig revelry and whilst my fellow cab folk couldn't stay as they had to go and check in to their hotel I still felt there was loads of time to do that. Looking around familiar faces (or at least recognisable Twitter pics) were scattered throughout. Hilary and Jenny were nursing a bottle of Jamesons, sharing cake and swapping gig adventure stories with Jack Moore, U2360 Gradi, Anend Kusher and Margaret Greenlight711. Angela Panella was clearing up in a game of poker with Paul Gorman, A Sort of Homecoming and Benjamin Holm looking decidedly out bluffed. At the back Helder Rodrigues had taken over the DJ booth and was blasting some wild Achtung Baby mixes into the Sydney sky as Alexsandro, Becky the Cyclist, Rob Task and Janette v BovaneuGent carved up the dancefloor as only well inebriated U2 fans can, there were a few who were gonna feel it in the morning pre gig but I was gonna keep it sensible. Just a couple of swifites I thought.
Known for it's whiskey it seemed only fair to add a chaser to my pint. Mart Gormo was easing through the Guinness and chasing them down so I joined him. One turned into two, turned into a Bottle of Dog as Steve Donaldson joined us, turned into lots and lots. I'm pretty sure we put the world to rights and all agreed, obviously, that The Joshua Tree was the most perfectly formed album of all time and Achtung Baby would always rank right up there but never quite eclipse it. Last memory leaving Baxters was Jonathan Mooney and Yum Yucher wheelbarrow racing against Jodie Moore and Byrdy while Kallre and Mark B, surprisingly nifty on the acoustic guitar, gave us a rendition of The Lost Highway. "Just a deck of cards and a jug of wine" drifted into the night as Rebecca, Rowland, Gundi and Big Red Driver led me off with the promise that the cider in Old Mate Place and the cocktails in Bulletin were the best in the city...…….
A silent thumping greeted my squinting eyes the morning after the blurred night before. I would describe the thump as a steady one drum beat as if Larry Mullen Jnr himself was carrying a drum down the walkway of my mind about to launch into Sunday Bloody Sunday at a gig that was yet to be imagined.
As I came to my senses and staggered to my feet it became apparent I was handcuffed to a somewhat angry looking Seagull, I was dressed in nothing but a gold jacket and, by what I can only imagine must have been an equally drunk U2er, my face was painted white with thick red lips and stick on devil horns. Now I can't go into detail about the specifics as the whole incident is still being investigated. Sufficed to say the Gull was safely returned, I found my clothes and whilst it required a heavy smothering of grease I got out of the cuffs!
Valpechnikova, Karin D and Aris spotted me on their way to the stadium and slipped me a hairy dog to stop Larry's drumming. Apparently a gold coat and devil horns made me easy to spot! Arriving at the stadium and the buzz is palpable. Yesterdays GA line has vanished as they'll have been tucked away on the rail for at least 5 hrs by now. Greg, Monique and Ian Walker seemed surprised to see that I had made it - apparently it was not looking good in the early hours when they spotted Maya, U2 History, a visiting rugby league team, Adam Hills and myself lining up on the side of the harbour about to resolve a bet about who could swim across it the quickest and collect a Seagull!!
I wondered in through security. Always a nervous moment. Obviously I know my ticket is valid and genuine but what if? While they took a cursory look and tore off the stub I couldn't help but feel such places might not always be this free. Maybe in the future we will be passing through scanners and sharing gigs with armed police. Funny what you think about. I hope it never comes to that.
Now I'm not in the tour business but with a set up like this I guess this is where the money lies. I would imagine that by the end of this tour U2 will have done about 157 shows and grossed somewhere in the region of $151,000,000 which in 27 years time would be adjusted to somewhere in the region of $267,250,173. It will probably be their biggest grossing tour of the 90's unless they tour again in '97 ish and do about 93 stadium shows grossing $171,677,027 adjusted, I would imagine, to something like $273,423,424.
I digress, again, be it within a sentence or by paragraph it's a bit all over the place. Anyway, as I reached the edge of the floor I saw Jaja Girl was just ahead of me and she showed a rapid turn of pace and nifty side step to get to her perfect viewing spot. The stage set up looked amazing, everyone buzzing, smiling, anticipating. I weedled my way through the crowd to get as close to the front as I could. Being 5ft 4" has a few disadvantages at any gig but weedling my way to the front is not one of them.
The banging in my head eased as I reached my spot. Now, its a small world. I mean, its not small as running around it would take a while, but our connections are small. You can be half way around the world in your living room and bump into a fellow Villa fan at a U2 gig that happened 27 years ago and now. A tap on the shoulder and it's Gareth. If anyone understands the trauma of being an Aston Villa fan it's Gareth (and Tom Hanks and Prince William) but he also appreciates the solace we seek in the biggest rock band from the north side of Dublin.
We were ready. We were all ready. Everyone from a Twitter existence that was 13 years away from being created was ready. Some of the people in the crowd were at a gig that happened before they were born! Let that sink in......in fact don't! It's way too confusing. All that matters is we're in Sydney and we're about to be done over, mauled, smashed to pieces and rebuilt in the world of ZOO TV!
The lights go down.
The set fires up.
Zoo Station intro.
10ft Bono silhouette high kicks against a blue screen background.
Edge is straight on it.
Adam unmoved.
Larry serious.
Bono appears stage right.
Last drag then flicks his fag across the stage.
Grabs the mic and looks at us all.
"Are you ready"?
Were we?
Of course we weren't ready.
The sensory assault.
The screens.
The sound.
What we were was instantly, instantly, blown away.
If Zoo Station is the pint then bolt in for the chaser. The Fly. Probably the greatest live song of all time. A bold statement I know but pick a fault in it. Any single smallest detail of fault...…...exactly. Your silence is very reassuring.
THE FUTURE IS THE PAST.
There's something about Mysterious Ways that gets overlooked. The song gets overlooked but its a joyous tune. It's ludicrously good live and The Edge revels in it. If I didn't know better I reckon the dancer is giving The Edge the eye. Morleigh Steinberg take a bow.
" I hunger for your touch "
The thing is at this gig it's truly tune after tune after tune. You can't get your breath. One draws us all together. It lifts. it loves. Gareth is now arm in arm with Jo D who's found us and near the front The Tarts are belting it out in unison with the RevU2 lads. That lot should do podcasts when they are invented.
In the chaos of joy, the bounce, the cheers, I spot out of the corner of my eye, Kelly Eddington. Clearly in love with the moment, watching the band intently while sketching furiously with her finely sharpened HB. I don't know a thing about art but mark my words this lady can paint.
There's sometimes a hidden gem in a gig. It might be a song that's misunderstood, a song that fails to push itself to the front of the queue or doesn't jump out of an album, but when you hear it live, when Edge stands front and centre it's a wonderous tune to behold.
I'm secure in my spot and I am not missing a moment of this gig. Mart unfortunately is stuck in a queue somewhere in the virtual multiverse. I've lost track of whether I am in the present tense or past or the past present but sod it we're all going to enjoy it anyway. Come on Gormo.
It was truly wonderful to see the interaction with Lou Reed through satellite television you can go anywhere. I saw it live in London either before or after this gig and it was an absolute highlight. Lou Reed March 2nd 1942 - October 27th 2013.
Aris hits the nail on the head.
"You can hold on to something so tight
You've already lost it"
Bullet leaves me just about holding it together but they're just playing with us. The atmosphere is being ramped up. The stakes raised. We're all waiting for this and whilst we know it's coming some of us are struck every single time by the emotion of Streets. I catch Valpechenko's eye and there's a knowing look between us. You know the look. The ' I'm not crying - you're crying look ' .
Everything, for me, about U2 is encapsulated in With or Without You. Mr MacPhisto absolutely personifies the angst, the loss and the impossible that With or Without You suffers and craves. That Bono suffers and craves. That we all suffer and crave.
As we began to filter out after the gig I bumped into PJ DeGenaro. She's a writer, fangirl and not at all irritable. You'll have read some of her great U2 stuff at @atu2, or at least you will do depending on where you are in the whole space time wavey line thing right now. She had made a few notes and was itching to discuss, relive the gig with the rest of us, as we're always keen to do. One more night in Sydney then.
I saw this gig actually live in London. A pal of mine saw them at Roundhay Park. It transpired recently that we were at the same gig some 20 years before our paths crossed at Outlaw Ironman Triathlon. We've been pals since then and after an early chat checking in on each other during lockdown he sent me this note and original t shirt. If I have accomplished anything then I will take "Thanks for getting me back into U2"
Disclaimer: no similarity, reference, likeness is intended blah blah blah to anyone real or otherwise living or dead other than the obvious reference by Twitter name or handle to those attending #U2togetherathome or variant thereof who I only know through cyberspace and therefore have to make up all character traits, habits, fashion sense and general demeanour, no accountability is accepted for any misspelt names because I can't read my own writing nor any accidental mis gendering when faced with an ambiguous Twitter name, no accuracy is likely for place names in the present or past or present or both depending on which time zone I researched and don't be entirely surprised to be placed in a location at a time preceding your birth but much more more importantly.the wonderful Kelly Eddington U2 Watercolours can be found here www.kellyeddington.com
