Vancouver Rehearsal Re-cap

There is something magical that happens when a U2 tour begins.

In the life of a fan, it’s the time when vacations are planned, bank accounts are drained, guitar chords are learned and scores of women brush up on their belly dancing.

For the media, it’s a race to get the best Bono sound bite, speculate on what the set will look like, and ultimately predict whether the band will sink or swim.

With all this pressure, one would expect that the U2 camp would be out of their minds with stress, preparing each intricate detail of the tour, while constantly in motion with a mission in mind. In reality, the process appears to be a very methodical, laid-back operation.

This weekend, fellow reporter Teresa and I set out to take a peek behind the curtain of this amazing production, as the trucks rolled into U2’s official rehearsal space at General Motors Place in Vancouver, BC. As we arrived, we could see the staff unloading gear from bright red semis to an underground garage, coincidentally (or not) marked “2.” Approaching the area, which is fenced off, we expected to be chased away with our obvious fan stares and disposable cameras. But that didn’t happen.

Instead, we quietly watched the folks rearrange the band’s equipment, set up a makeshift workbench and begin constructing something from a large supply of plywood. Making a lap around the venue, we stumbled upon catering, a team of truck drivers, a line of vehicles marked with ‘Vertigo’ parking passes—and finally—security.

Not wanting to intrude, we retreated to a park-like area at the back of the venue where most of the action appeared to be taking place. The security guards acknowledged us, but didn’t ask us to leave, as we weren’t interfering with any of the work (and were keeping the excited giggles to a minimum). We watched anxiously as staff arrived with supplies, food and what we’re pretty sure was clean laundry … always hoping that one of their deliveries would include four certain Irishmen. Unfortunately, they didn’t.

The colder it got, the more impatient we became and the more curious we grew about when the actual rehearsing would begin. We refueled (in the form of Subway sandwiches), added layers of clothing and returned to our posts, determined to speak with some of the staff.

Braving the cold, we started conversations with every tour employee that walked by. I’m pleased to report that each one of them was polite enough to speak to us (if not amused by our dedication). What we were told was that the band wasn’t going to be there that evening, and the crew wasn’t even sure when they would arrive, as the stage was still being built. Duran Duran, who had performed the night before, had only vacated the space early that morning, so the venue needed to be prepared fully for U2.

Believing this to be true, and not wanting to catch pneumonia from the cold, we hung around only a few hours longer, chatted with some fellow fans who had the same idea (or had read our earlier blog) and decided to retreat to a local establishment for some socializing. To our delight, the place was filled with Vertigo crew members. What we witnessed there (aside from awful, hilarious karaoke ) was nothing short of heartwarming. Personnel just arriving in town were greeted by existing staff with hugs and smiles as chairs were brought in to make room for each new addition. Stories of former tours were exchanged, updates about family and pets were shared and an overall sense of joy permeated the room. In short, we felt like we stumbled upon a family reunion.

The vibe was great and the camaraderie lasted well into the night. When we left we couldn’t help but feel like we’d just stepped out of a Willie Williams tour diary.

The next morning, we rushed to the window of our hotel like kids on Christmas Eve to see if any “presents” had been left at the venue. Realizing that a second garage door had opened, and somehow thinking Bono and the boys may be hiding like stocking stuffers in one of them, we rushed through breakfast, grabbed our gear and headed back to our familiar spot … only to find that most of the crew from the prior day were hard at work like little elves, again doing what they do best.

And though they were genuinely busy, if we didn’t know better we would never have guessed that these were folks working against a serious deadline for the biggest band in the world, who were set to start their tour in a mere three weeks. They all just seemed too calm!

With nothing left to lose, and the clock ticking away, we spoke informally with more staff members and learned that the band had still not arrived. We also figured out that the heavy drum sounds we thought may be Larry warming up were actually large vehicles thumping across the overpass that loops the venue. We were actually hallucinating drumbeats.

Next we learned that we had been the stars of our own James Bond-like film on the GM Place surveillance cameras! The security guard who blew our cover said that the place is saturated with safety cameras that span the circumference of the structure and beyond, and that their team had been keeping an eye on us the whole time. Although we were disappointed that our 007 skills weren’t what we’d hoped, it’s good to know that our boys will truly be safe if they ever arrive to rehearse.

Deciding that our day jobs were probably more important than risking another night of no-show band members, Teresa and I gracefully gave up, snatching one last picture of the reader board flashing “U2” and saying a sweet goodbye to the cool and collected crew responsible for igniting the tour magic.

We get it now—U2 have got the entire process down to a science. They hire the right people and treat their staff like the valuable geniuses that they are, resulting in a utopian-like work environment built on skill, kindness and respect. That vibe transcends the wall of performances, letting us fans absorb that special something, which makes a U2 show more than just a rock concert.

It’s no wonder that live is where they like to live–it’s simply a magical place to be.