ACHTUNG BABY
U2
Island
When we last heard from U2, the Irish quartet was on the verge of serious artistic meltdown fueled by large doses of pious indignation and media hype.
Self-righteousness is a key rock ‘n’ roll trait, but it must be delivered with a certain irreverence, or it feels stuffy and overwrought.
All too often, U2’s ambitions to become the most important band on the planet got in the way of its humanist agenda. Singer Bono Hewson’s temperamental theatrics, compounded by the kind of media glare usually reserved for heads of state, grew boorish.
So they did what any bright-thinking rock ‘n’ rollers would do: They gave it a rest.
The band resurfaces this week with Achtung Baby, a 12-song collection that captures the buzz of ’60s psychedelic garage rock with varying degrees of success.
Though Hewson still occasionally shoots for sweeping pronouncements, it appears that U2 has stopped trying to save the world. His confrontations are intimate, not global.
Hewson’s delivery still can be haughty, making U2’s weaker poetic lyrics heavy-handed.
But the good news is that the band remains reluctant to simply find a niche and contentedly sit in it.
Rather than try to re-create the sinewy grace of its breakthrough album, 1987’s The Joshua Tree, or piece together the roots of rock, the way it did on 1988’s Rattle and Hum, U2 forges its own brand of metal-funk with a gentle twist.
That U2 is unable to make that combination consistently cohesive is no shame. In its best moments, Achtung Baby bristles with the raw, harsh sound of a band rediscovering the joy of noise.
Many songs start off like demos, rough and stumbling before kicking into a groove.
The opener, “Zoo Station,” is a blurry nod to industrial technopop, as performed by the band next door. Though it’s tacked into place with U2 trademarks — Larry Mullen’s lively syncopated drumming and Adam Clayton’s throbbing bass—there are surprises. The Edge’s guitars bleat with a metallic intensity, and Hewson’s vocals are heavily layered and given a mechanical sheen, accenting his tendency to wail.
The first single, “The Fly,” also has that expert U2 rhythm section pinning Hewson’s breathy singing into place, while The Edge’s guitars alternately bed down in quick, funky rhythms, then buzz in and out.
“Ultraviolet (Light My Way)” has a bouncy bass line straight out of Motown and more funky guitar from the Edge. “So Cruel” is slower, less cluttered (despite some strings) and affecting.
Less convincing is the blue-eyed soul of “Tryin’ To Throw Your Arms Around the World,” which pushes Hewson’s voice up front. It’s got a breezy pace but a heavy touch, with densely interwoven guitars and keyboards.
Despite a lot of experimenting with odd studio effects, mostly with the guitars shoved through phasers and echoes and such, the rest of Achtung Baby doesn’t get raunchy often enough.
The album took a year to record. Inevitably, that kind of drawn-out cut-and-paste is going to cost music spontaneity and focus.
Songs like “Until the End of the World” and “Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses” cross the line from brooding to muddled. They swirl in pools of overproduction and lack the sharp insight, extraordinary emotion or compelling extended melodies that mark U2’s best songs.
If Achtung Baby is evidence of a band with too many options, and the license to indulge in every one, it’s at least encouraging to see that U2 retains its willingness to experiment.
© The Fresno Bee, 1992.