Songs of Experience - U2

This time, there is no marketing gimmick or clever hook.

Following the truly baffling amount of complaining about Songs of Innocence being delivered free of charge and approval into everyone’s iTunes library in 2014, legendary Irish quartet U2’s fourteenth studio album is here with no fuss and no muss. Aside from a delay as the band decided to incorporate their thoughts on the 2016 US election “[into] this record and about how it relates to what’s going on in the world”, Songs of Experience has entered with no more fanfare than any other album.

Which isn’t to say that it’s not under pressure. Once the hoopla around Songs of Innocence died down, we were left with a sweet enough album that barely tried to overstep the band’s nice, safe stadium pop-rock phase. For a band that talks the talk about wanting to remain relevant even in their fourth decade of existence, the Irish quartet failed to walk the walk. Whatever U2 had in mind when they entered the studio for Songs of Experience – Trump, immigration, family, love, William Blake, whatever – the album absolutely, positively could not be boring. Like I said, there’s no marketing gimmick. Just a band who, despite being wildly rich, successful and well-connected, nonetheless has its survival on the line.

And… well, it’s not ground-breaking and it’s not even a great execution of the sound and vision U2 has done well for nigh-on 40 years. However, if you’re happy to sit through an album that balances its pessimistic view of modern global politics and conflict with an enduring faith in the goodwill of love and empathy with juuuuust enough interesting music sprinkled across, then you’ll like Songs of Experience.

If their public perception as yesterday’s heroes wasn’t enough, the band is contending with the challenges that they pile on themselves. When he’s not making up words like “refuJesus”, Bono’s lyrics are often the sweet, quasi-inspirational doggerel that your mum turns into home project art displays (also, for some reason three songs recycle lyrics from Songs of Innocence). The Edge has moments where his guitar grows some teeth but mostly it’s the same skittering, ‘Where the Streets Have No Name’ stuff while you can almost hear Larry Mullen jr.’s muffled screams of frustration as the drummer is regularly pushed to the background while the album’s high points are always powered by his playing in the foreground.

Flagship single ‘You’re the Best Thing About Me’ is a frustrating hit-and-miss as Bono’s interesting lyric about being the selfish and destructive force in a relationship despite - or perhaps because of – receiving unquestionable support is dressed up in a generic pop arrangement with the Edge truly sounding superfluous.

But enough about the problems or you won’t believe me when I say that U2 – who have made it clear that they are playing with one eye on the headlines over the last few years – have avoided a defeat on Songs of Experience.

“What’s the point of putting out a U2 album if it isn’t something very special?” said Bono in a radio interview heralding the release. No one could ever accuse the singer of being the shy and retiring kind and he has put his chest out in describing the band’s intentions in recording (a read of his rambling essay in the liner notes very nearly sinks the album before you’ve listened to it, just to give you an example).

‘American Soul’ is a wild right hook at Trump’s anti-immigration stances, accusing the US President of putting his hand on the wheel of time in a country whose fabric was built on the threads from so many countries. “There's a moment in our life where a soul can die/And the person in a country when you believe the lie,” hollers Bono. Focusing on the human suffering in the album’s political songs proves the singer’s strongest card, with the wonderful image of a flower blooming in a bomb crater a touch of inspiration on ‘Summer of Love’. Straying further from the standard U2 four-to-the-floor-off-the-conveyor-belt with Edge’s itchy lead and Adam Clayton’s funky, duck-diving bassline, ‘Red Flag Day’ brings the Syrian asylum seeker crisis to the charts with the most innovative U2 arrangement since 2008’s gospel-tinged ‘Moment of Surrender’.

Then there’s a slew of songs that – depending on your perspective – are either mawkish or endearing. ‘Lights of Home’, ‘The Showman’, ‘The Little Things That Give You Away’ and ‘Love is Bigger Than Anything in Its Way’ turn the perspective inwards towards wives and children as well as revisiting the band’s early days as Songs of Innocence did. “The showman gives you front row to his heart/The showman prays his heartache will chart/Making a spectacle of falling apart is just the start of the show,” japes Bono, a quick bit of self-deprecating comic relief on an album otherwise relentlessly about the quiet struggle between dark and light. Doubtless the endlessly divisive, multimillionaire 57-year old knew exactly what that touch of self-awareness would do.

Even though its chorus is copy and pasted from 2014's eye-rollingly generic ‘Song for Someone’, album closer ‘13’ delivers. Part lullaby to a child burdened by the weight of the world and part apology for the role the older generation has played in piling on that same weight, ‘13’ looks to the tomorrow in the heat of today much as ‘MLK’ did on The Unforgettable Fire in 1984. Backed only by the lightest of touches from Mullen and an invisible keyboard curtain, Bono murmurs, “Are you tough enough to be kind/Do you know your heart has its own mind?/Darkness gathers around the light/Hold on.”

Upon his first listen to Songs of Experience, my uncle pragmatically reflected that, like athletes or CEOs, most artists only have a five to ten-year window where they are at the height of their powers. This album does enough and proves that U2 still care. At this late stage in their career, U2 have bought themselves a little more time in that window.

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