One biting cold night in February 1980, a shivering talent-spotter found himself in Dublin on what was beginning to look like another wild-goose chase. After all, here he was in a freezing stadium waiting to hear a band on the evidence of a pretty dire single and the urgings of a persistent but as yet unproven manager. Suddenly, in a burst of white light, four slight figures pounced on to the stage, picked up their instruments as if they were soldiers seizing weapons and tore into their first song with a deafening roar. The crowd of eager and excited faces bobbed and leapt in a frenzy of dancing; the more daring of those at the front swamped the stage and engulfed the diminutive lead singer, who miraculously stayed both on his feet and in tune. The night I first saw U2 in concert was electrifying.
Eleven years on, those four wan young men have evolved into the most successful rock act of their generation, to say nothing of becoming a formidable money-making machine. Last month, they released their eighth album, Achtung Baby, which even their most ferocious critics (not least in U2’s native Ireland, where their success has proved a two-edged sword) admit has yet again shifted the frontiers of contemporary rock.
On that night in Dublin they convinced me, the A&R man, of their future. I then had to persuade the record company — Island Records — to sign them. My first conversation with Chris Blackwell, Island’s founder and chairman, was not encouraging. On a visit to London in 1979, Blackwell’s attention had been drawn to a London group with the alarming name of Spandau Ballet. He was intrigued by their style and hybrid of dance-pop. The band were courting every major label, including Island. Blackwell wanted to sign Spandau Ballet; I wanted U2.
Blackwell and I argued for most of an April afternoon until, somehow convinced by my belief that they would be the next Led Zeppelin, he conceded defeat. The same afternoon we struck a famous wager — Blackwell offered me 100-1 against U2 having a number one album in the U.K. inside three years. It was a close-run thing, but in March 1983 Blackwell lost the bet when the band’s third album, War, went straight into the charts. So why have U2 survived while so many others of their generation have fallen by the wayside?
Without descending into record company jargon, the unity of the group, be it three, four or even six, is paramount to a group’s success. U2, apart from a short period following the release of their second album, October, when the fervent religious beliefs of the three Christian members of the band clashed with their bass player Adam Clayton, have maintained a terrific sense of unity and purpose. What they lacked in expertise early on — and there were well-aired doubts about Clayton’s bass playing and Larry Mullen’s drumming — was made up for by their collective passion as to what they were doing and where they were going. But, although their live performances continued to be sell-outs, selling U2 records was always a problem — until two turning points occurred in the early Eighties.
For their fourth album, the group, much against the wishes of the record company, turned to Brian Eno, to produce The Unforgettable Fire. Eno had no reputation as a rock producer, but had been responsible for some of the most interesting music of the Seventies and Eighties, including Roxy Music’s first two albums and his work with David Byrne of Talking Heads. It seemed an unlikely combination, but the band knew the sound that they wanted and felt that Eno could provide it.
The other big event was the group’s decision to take part in the global concert on July 13, 1985, for Live Aid. In the week after that appearance, record shops all over England were besieged with requests for albums by the group whose lead singer at Live Aid had worn a pointed hat and had plucked a girl out of the crowd and danced with her on stage. Along with Queen, U2 were the undoubted stars of Live Aid.
The band would be first to acknowledge that they almost have a fifth member — their manager, Paul McGuinness. A former advertising executive, McGuinness has shown a deft touch in all matters to do with the business side of U2’s success and seems to have lost little of his initial enthusiasm for their music. His shrewdness has ensured that the band have been able to dictate their own terms. For example, McGuinness rejected a leading soft drinks manufacturer as the sponsor of the band, making it obvious that U2 were not going to be used in that overtly commercial manner.
With their record company, Island, the band have been doubly fortunate. Two of their early supporters were Island’s press officers, Rob Partridge and Neil Storey. No one fought harder than these two alongside the A&R department to sign the band to the label. These two battled away against an indifferent press in the early Eighties to encourage reviews of concerts and releases. Not that U2 were ever short of quotable material, particularly from Bono, the lead singer. But with the release of Achtung Baby they have let the record speak for them. “I’m sensing I should shut up,” Bono has said. “What’s special about U2 is the music, not the musicians.”
© Daily Telegraph, 1991. All rights reserved.