U2 is back, once again. Are they cool this time?
U2’s 16th album, Luz Carnivaltravels through the band’s history with unabashed pleasure.
Viviane Sassen
hide caption
Viviane Sassen
This essay first appeared in the NPR Music newsletter. Register for early access to articles like this, listening recommendations and more.
Perhaps he’s thanking the stars in the Dublin sky or his political consultants – either way, Bono must be feeling pretty lucky these days. U2 is back, and not just because they insisted on re-entering the zeitgeist. No major rock band has faced as tumultuous a twilight era as this one, now half a century into its reign as rock’s quintessential try-hards, a status that grew increasingly unmanageable as age and wealth pushed its members farther away from pop’s shifting conversation and toward the dreaded status of nostalgia act. In the quest for relevance, U2 made some spectacular mistakes; Relying on the goodwill of their fans, the Irish quartet continued to make money while sliding ever deeper into irrelevance. Bono, the most outgoing rock star since Mick Jagger, saw his children replace him in the celebrity pages and dealt with his health problems. But the celestial bodies have realigned, and Luz Carnival turns out to be the lucky 16th album that made U2 admirable, if not downright cool, again.
Despite some naysayers, this collection of dance tracks and 2 a.m. musings once again justifies U2’s place as blockbuster group capable of surprising, engaging and generate happiness. It follows two recent EPs that hit like ceremonies renewal and several singles that made clear that the band is here to play, in both the musical and disruptive sense. An engagement with Latin music, signaled by a smattering of Spanish foreshadowed by the album title and Bono’s revelation that one track was named after his latest platonic muse Rosalía, have, on the album itself, thankfully proven to be less like weird appropriation than a reinforcement of the Eurotrashy cosmopolitanism the group first introduced on 1992’s Baby waiting. (Her reported response, an amused “Do I have to sing on this?” follows the song’s message: They can barely touch the hem of her garment, but will gush anyway.) At times U2 has tried to seize the moment by engaging with awkwardly fitting trends, but here, a core commitment to its own historic innovations feeds an immediacy that feels earned, not forced.
Before the singles showed they’d be back on their old stomping grounds, the Edge had whispered about a “sci-fi Irish folk project,” but beyond an uptick in the guitarist’s pedals-happy noise generation, this music isn’t at all experimental. It does, however, benefit from some investment in time travel. Like a self-referential version of Terry Giliam’s book Time Bandits, Luz Carnival travels through U2’s history with unabashed pleasure. The opening track “Go (Carnaval De Luz)” begins with a background noise reminiscent of Achtungis “The Fly”. Edge’s guitar slice against Adam Clayton’s bass on “Silencio” recalls 1983’s “Two Hearts Beat as One.” War. “The Greatest Show on Earth” is a ballad that harkens back to the band’s Wim Wenders era and “Glorify” sizes down the strut of 2004’s “Vertigo” to make a more direct invocation of grace. Bono takes a tour of his different techniques: beat-poet rap, smooth falsetto, broken, moaning singing. Larry Mullen Jr. shows what expensive physical therapy can do by hitting the drums with the force of a machine gun.
Religious and profane, aggressive and generous, the songs Luz Carnival soul.
On this subject, it is notable that Bono’s lyrics have become more direct in their outright expressions of Christian faith. He’s still a goddess lover – the unnamed “face of the future” in “La Reina” joins a harem of his divine female muses – and an anti-dogmatic believer, as “Torn”, apparently the last song Dolly Parton recorded, makes clear. This particular goddess shared Bono’s stubborn belief that people are fundamentally good, especially when enriched by faith, and that love your neighbor remains possible; their collaboration will touch certain hearts, but will push the limits of sentimentality by deploring the loss of the ecumenical ideal.
Faith remains the central focus of this group and clearly seems more urgent to Bono today than in the 90s, when he first openly indulged in lemon a pressure of earthly pleasure. We are closer to heaven now; it’s the album of an older, thoughtful and repentant man. “Street of Dreams” begins with the very Psalm-ish phrases, “God, hear me shout” and in “Glorify” he addresses those who reject the spiritual with the ultimate Jesus flex, snarling, “There’s nothing you can do to keep me from loving you.” Casual fans who are not religious may be uncomfortable with such fervor. Those who don’t mind a little preaching will appreciate the way he continues to play with that tradition, as on “Midnight Sunshine,” a bubblegum soul number that turns on the pantheistic punchline, “You say God no longer cares for us / I say the stars are only there for us to shine.” Mundane on the page, Bono’s words find the light they need through a melody that feels like a mnemonic device or, yes, a prayer. It’s something he’s said before, a little pep talk to stay connected. Dogma breaks things, but the night is illuminated; let’s dance.
U2 tries to maintain this agility throughout Carnival of Luz, and above all succeeds. In doing so, the Time Bandits encounter the moment they landed. Whether dumb luck or Spidey sense had U2 choose a release date right after the US election midterms that have solidified the return of liberal confidence, this music runs on a similar energy. As with many recently impactful campaigns, humor plays a key role in making U2’s bolder messages palatable. Sometimes this takes the obvious form of a play on words, as when Bono quotes Ernest Hemingway’s remark. famous quip about his favorite cocktails in “Silencio”, but it’s mostly in the music itself. This is where Adam Clayton’s secret weapon bass playing makes the difference. The bop of Motown and the bubbling syncopation of lovers rock illuminate his style; here these rhythms act as a counterpoint to the dynamics of Mullen’s drums and Bono’s passionate declarations. Bono knows how to turn a phrase in Clayton’s direction while Edge’s guitar creates static around the two, so that his heavier statements fizz a little and change their meaning. This playfulness among the band members is what makes a song like “The Mirror Maker (Rosalía)” not just a comedy but a genuine expression of respect for a young artist. Longtime studio allies Brian Eno and Jacknife Lee ensure that the atmosphere is conducive to this interaction. Instead of the big skies of the Daniel Lanois era or even the overlooked 2009 gem Eno helm No line on the horizonthe production of this album emphasizes agility and fun.
Even the big ballad “The Greatest Show on Earth,” an homage to the illuminated cathedrals that U2 makes of stadiums when it plays “With or Without You” on its world tours, has enough antic energy running through it to save it from navel-gazing ponderousness. Bono’s version of Peggy Lee singing “Is That All There Is”, with Courvoisier in hand, the song meditates on the many marriages that make up a life. Naming heartache and productive codependency, he may be talking to his real wife, Ali, who has been with him as long as he has had that ridiculous name. Regarding a dream gone dusty, he seems caught up with his bandmates, coaxing them into the spotlight once more. But when he sings “Breathe on me and I’m love and I’m lux”, it is a force beyond these intimates that he welcomes – on the one hand, the spirit that guides him, and on the other, the fans that he always insists form a congregation. Clayton and Mullen turn that spotlight into pinpoints, keeping Bono from settling too firmly into his grandiose gestures, and the Edge offers up the soaring guitar lines that made them work in the first place. This torch song transforms into an invocation of the soul, evoking Aretha and the Sweet Emotions; All he can do, Bono realizes, is say this little prayer. For him, for the band, for the moment we’re stuck and – even if you’re not a fan – for you.
Gn headline
