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.By its conclusion, none of the characters on Friends seemed even semi-real and all the dialogue sounded like skit comedy.But when the program was conceived in 1994, most of the action was built around relatively plausible problems; I recall one episode from the second season where three of the characters (Chandler, Ross, and Monica) had decent jobs while the other three were essentially unemployed, and that economic disparity created a class issue among people who normally perceived themselves as peers (and which manifested itself through a Hootie and the Blowfish concert).This is a common problem for young people who enter the job market immediately after college, as many of their collegiate friends are left eating ramen noodles while they earn actual money.This, I suppose, would suggest that Friends did illustrate “authenticity” and “normalcy.” Britney is like Max Weber.(THIS HAPPENED IN)OCTOBERU2 is the most self-aware rock band in history.This generally works to their advantage.There are myriad reasons why U2 has been successful, but the quality I found most relevant was the depth of their inwardly focused consciousness.They are not an inauthentic band, but they are also not an organic band; nothing about U2 is accidental.ABC sports broadcaster Al Michaels likes to tell an anecdote about howard Cosell: Michaels claims he once watched Cosell break up a fistfight between a couple of anonymous thugs.After it was over, Michaels asked Cosell how he found the guts to get involved in a random street brawl between two hyperaggressive maniacs, both of whom could have killed him.“I know who I am,” Cosell said in response.Bono is the same way; Bono knows who he is.What Bono can see (and what so many other groups tend to miss) is the relationship between capitalism and freedom.U2 never had to worry about Island Records interfering with their musical vision because the band understands a very basic equation: as long as they make everyone money, they will be allowed to do whatever they want.It’s assumed that any time an entity becomes corporate, that entity loses its autonomy; this was not the case with U2.As U2 grew larger and larger, they actually became more free.When I met them in fall of 2004, they had a limitless kind of autonomy that surpassed any indie band on any independent label.I’ve never met a rock group more satisfied with the condition of their career.Because Bono always behaves like he’s being filmed for a documentary, he gave me bushels of material.I think I was able to type this entire piece in less than an hour.However, the rest of the experience sucked.Dublin was cold and wet, and the pubs were filled with American tourists who didn’t understand how to be drunk in public.All my friends at SPIN told me that I would love Ireland and that complete strangers would want to make conversation at every bar I stumbled into; this only happened once, and the guy turned out to be a Norwegian white supremacist.I had one good meal, and it was at a Hard Rock Cafe.I should never go anywhere.MYSTERIOUS DAYS(DECEMBER 2004)“The job of art is to chase away ugliness,” Bono tells me as he twists the ignition key of his Maserati Quattroporte.“So let’s start with the roads.Cars are so ugly.America is supposedly the country that brought us the love of the automobile, yet they haven’t produced a beautiful car in decades.Americans used to make feminine cars with a sense of humor, but now it’s all SUVs.The Germans kind of picked up the slack for a while, but the Italians ultimately were the ones that took them on.But the Italians pick such arrogant names.Do you know what Quattroporte means? Four-door.It means four-door.”Bono laughs, and I pretend to understand why this is funny.I’m not sure why an expository word like quattro-porte would seem pretentious, but I certainly can’t disagree with his core argument: this is not an ugly car.This is, in fact, the nicest automobile I’ve ever touched; I’ve never even had a dream that included a vehicle like this.Sitting in the passenger seat is like being inside a spaceship.I have just spent the last two hours interviewing Bono about the new U2 album, How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, their tenth career album and their first release in over four years.He is about to drive me back to the Clarence Hotel in Dublin’s Temple Bar area, a hotel that Bono co-owns with guitarist the Edge (and which includes a restaurant where Bono plans to have supper with an eighty-two-year-old Irish painter).Our conversation (conducted on the ground floor of U2’s headquarters and recording studio) touched on numerous questions, some about music but mostly about politics and celebrity and the meaning of freedom.However, there is only one question about U2 that actually matters, and I’m still trying to figure it out while this four-door Maserati backs out of the studio’s garage: is Bono for real, or is Bono full of shit?We begin driving away from the studio, a faceless two-story building nestled along the canal in Dublin’s most relentlessly industrial neighborhood.Suddenly, Bono—who is wearing sunglasses to spite the darkness—spots four teenagers sitting on a bench in the dark, huddled next to some U2 graffiti and bundled in sweaters (it’s fifty degrees outside, but it feels colder).Two of the girls are from Belgium, one girl is from Austria, and one guy is Irish.They have been sitting there for seven hours, hoping to see anything that vaguely resembles a transcendent rock band.“I’m going to talk to these kids,” Bono says as he stops the Maserati and jumps out.I can see him signing autographs in the rearview mirror.This strikes me as quaint, and I begin jotting down the event in my notebook.But then Bono opens the trunk and throws the teenagers’ bags inside.Suddenly, there are four pale kids climbing into the backseat of this car.I guess we’re lucky this is a Quattroporte.“We’re gonna give these kids a ride,” says Bono.I look over my right shoulder at the girl from Austria, and I am able to see what it looks like when someone’s mind is blown out of her skull; I can almost see her brains and blood splattered across the rear window.The car takes off; Bono drives recklessly, accelerating and braking at random intervals.“Do you want to hear the new album?” he asks the glassy-eyed teenagers.This was over a month before How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb would be released.They say yes.Bono punches up track four, “Love and Peace or Else.” He hits the play button, and it’s loud; it sounds like someone dropping the throttle on a Harrier jump jet.Bono starts singing along, harmonizing with himself.He’s playing air drums while he drives.The music changes, and he exclaims, “This is the Gary Glitter part!” The music changes again.“This is the Brian Wilson moment!” The teenagers aren’t even talking; they’re just kind of looking at one another, almost like they’re afraid this is some Celtic version of Punk’d [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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