During the course of their four-decade-plus career, U2 have been a daringly stubborn, forward-thinking lot, rarely repeating a proven formula, and constantly searching for the next big idea. Indeed, their momentum seems to have always been fuelled by an almost Bowie-esque need for experimentation. Sometimes the gambits paid off spectacularly (the rich Americana textures of The Joshua Tree were traded for Achtung Baby’s postmodern European art-rock); other times, not so much (the techno dance-heavy Pop ranks as their most under-appreciated effort). But in each case, the band made it clear they weren’t running to stand still, and whether they delighted their fans or occasionally mystified them, their true measure of success was guided by their indefatigable quest for change.
And now they’ve really gone and done it. U2’s latest project – Songs Of Surrender, a whopping collection of 40 “reimagined” songs from their back catalogue – is one that will invariably provoke intense reactions, both good and bad, from their fans, many of whom regard the band’s original recordings as sacrosanct. For The Edge, the driving force behind the four-disc set (he’s credited as producer, and he created much of the instrumentation), the notion of merely tweaking musical themes was one he rejected out of hand. Simply put, revisiting the past meant throwing a whole lot of it out the window.
“We’re not just treading lightly on hallowed ground. We’re going in with jack boots,” he says with a laugh. “That was our early decision: ‘Are we going to suspend reverence here and just go for it?’ And we decided to go for it because we thought we’d get into more interesting territory if we gave ourselves that freedom.” He pauses, then smiles mischievously. “But we also had an overriding idea, which was to make intimacy the new version of punk rock for us.”
Punk rock in 2023, at least inis now stripped down, slowed down and sung by Bono in a lower register. It doesn’t so much confront you as it gradually seeps into your senses. Likewise, the youthful harmonic urgency of now moves at a more mature pace, with The Edge performing a delicately plucked nylon-string solo in place of the original’s jarring electric lead.
