By Neil McCormick, May 10th, 2010
Telegraph.co.uk
Today (Monday 10th) is Bono’s 50th birthday. The U2 singer has been on the planet for half a century, although for some it will probably seem longer. A band leader since he was 15, a rock star by the time he was 21, a global superstar at the age of 27, Bono has become one of the most ubiquitous celebrities on the planet, straddling the worlds of showbusiness and politics by the bridge of charitable activism.
Immediately recognisable by his trademark sunglasses and bullish Irish charm, Bono may be the most divisive, love-him-or-hate-him character in modern pop culture. For fans, and there are tens of millions of them, he is the greatest rock star of our age, a passionate heir to the pop art activism of John Lennon, leader of one the most extraordinary (and biggest selling) bands of our times. For his detractors, he is an egotistic pain in the neck, a God-bothering do-gooder always sticking his face where it doesn’t belong as a self-appointed, unelected, Messianic representative of the world’s poor, narcissistically boosting his self-esteem by hectoring and cajoling others to think of those worse of than themselves whilst hypocritically living the indulgent life of a super-rich, over-privileged tax dodger. I think that about covers it.
As a long-time friend and admirer, I have never quite understood why people get so upset about someone so obviously trying to do good, and indeed why people are so willing to ascribe negative values to transparently positive intentions. I have defended Bono before, which only unleashes ever increasing torrents of abuse. In my experience as a prolific music blogger, I have learned there are two things you cannot say without drawing the vitriol of poison posters: criticise Abba, or praise Bono.
It seems to me that this polarity of opinion regarding Bono has become so extreme, people no longer treat him as a human being. Rather he is a kind of idea of an image of a caricature of a caricature, and no matter what he says or does it will be twisted one way or another to serve pro and anti opinion of Bono, Saint or Devil.
The peculiar thing for me, of course, is that I not only know Bono, I’ve known him since before he became Bono. He wasn’t always a rock star, but he was always a complex, driven, passionate, mischievous but intensely well-meaning and essentially sincere character. He is a year older than me, and I always looked up to him and considered him a bit of a hero even in the corridors of a comprehensive school in Dublin. He was a nice guy then, and he’s a nice guy now. He’s married to his childhood sweetheart, our classmate Alison Stewart, which would be quite an achievement even if he weren’t a rock star with all the indulgence and privileges that career allows. Such is his media ubiquity, the modern Bono sometimes seems to know every significant figure on the planet, from popes to president to film stars and supermodels, but actually he still hangs out with a lot of the same friends he had back in those days. He’s fun to be around, clever and entertaining and a great includer, so that he draws people in, remembers peoples names, asks about wives and children, makes people feel that it is not all about him but about everyone present. And he’s such a passionate believer in the positive power of people to change the world that he is a hugely inspirational character to be around.
If he does seem a larger than life character it’s because he has allowed his extraordinary life to really fill him up. I love Brian Eno’s response when he was asked about Bono’s big ego. “Bono commits the crime of rising above your station. To the British, it’s the worst thing you can do. Bono is hated for doing something considered unbecoming for a pop star – meddling in things that apparently have nothing to do with him. He has a huge ego, no doubt about it. On the other hand, he has a huge brain and a huge heart. He’s just a big kind of person. That’s not easy for some to deal with. They don’t mind in Italy. They like larger-than-life people there. In most places in the world they don’t mind him. Here, they think he must be conning them.”
I remember the moment that inner rock star was unleashed, in the Mount Temple school gym, in Autumn 1976, when the band that would become U2 played their first show. He stood on a stage of school tables held together by masking tape and, as the band played Peter Frampton’s ‘Show Me The Way’, he picked up the microphone and started to stamp and roar. It was like an electric charge went through the room. The girls in the gymnasium actually started to scream. It was a transformative moment, no doubt about it. “It was really a feeling of liberation,” Bono told me once. “It’s like you’ve jumped into the sea and discovered you can swim. Everything changed for me, cause now I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
And so Bono became a rock star. But he never stopped being himself. He’s fifty years old now, married with children of his own, a loyal husband, a good father, a genuinely nice guy. When I see him now, I can still recognise the boy in the man. I wish more people could see that. But, in thirty years of rock and roll, his detractors haven’t managed to bring him down yet. I’m betting he’s going to be getting on their nerves for a while yet.
Telegraph.co.uk
Today (Monday 10th) is Bono’s 50th birthday. The U2 singer has been on the planet for half a century, although for some it will probably seem longer. A band leader since he was 15, a rock star by the time he was 21, a global superstar at the age of 27, Bono has become one of the most ubiquitous celebrities on the planet, straddling the worlds of showbusiness and politics by the bridge of charitable activism.
Immediately recognisable by his trademark sunglasses and bullish Irish charm, Bono may be the most divisive, love-him-or-hate-him character in modern pop culture. For fans, and there are tens of millions of them, he is the greatest rock star of our age, a passionate heir to the pop art activism of John Lennon, leader of one the most extraordinary (and biggest selling) bands of our times. For his detractors, he is an egotistic pain in the neck, a God-bothering do-gooder always sticking his face where it doesn’t belong as a self-appointed, unelected, Messianic representative of the world’s poor, narcissistically boosting his self-esteem by hectoring and cajoling others to think of those worse of than themselves whilst hypocritically living the indulgent life of a super-rich, over-privileged tax dodger. I think that about covers it.
As a long-time friend and admirer, I have never quite understood why people get so upset about someone so obviously trying to do good, and indeed why people are so willing to ascribe negative values to transparently positive intentions. I have defended Bono before, which only unleashes ever increasing torrents of abuse. In my experience as a prolific music blogger, I have learned there are two things you cannot say without drawing the vitriol of poison posters: criticise Abba, or praise Bono.
It seems to me that this polarity of opinion regarding Bono has become so extreme, people no longer treat him as a human being. Rather he is a kind of idea of an image of a caricature of a caricature, and no matter what he says or does it will be twisted one way or another to serve pro and anti opinion of Bono, Saint or Devil.
The peculiar thing for me, of course, is that I not only know Bono, I’ve known him since before he became Bono. He wasn’t always a rock star, but he was always a complex, driven, passionate, mischievous but intensely well-meaning and essentially sincere character. He is a year older than me, and I always looked up to him and considered him a bit of a hero even in the corridors of a comprehensive school in Dublin. He was a nice guy then, and he’s a nice guy now. He’s married to his childhood sweetheart, our classmate Alison Stewart, which would be quite an achievement even if he weren’t a rock star with all the indulgence and privileges that career allows. Such is his media ubiquity, the modern Bono sometimes seems to know every significant figure on the planet, from popes to president to film stars and supermodels, but actually he still hangs out with a lot of the same friends he had back in those days. He’s fun to be around, clever and entertaining and a great includer, so that he draws people in, remembers peoples names, asks about wives and children, makes people feel that it is not all about him but about everyone present. And he’s such a passionate believer in the positive power of people to change the world that he is a hugely inspirational character to be around.
If he does seem a larger than life character it’s because he has allowed his extraordinary life to really fill him up. I love Brian Eno’s response when he was asked about Bono’s big ego. “Bono commits the crime of rising above your station. To the British, it’s the worst thing you can do. Bono is hated for doing something considered unbecoming for a pop star – meddling in things that apparently have nothing to do with him. He has a huge ego, no doubt about it. On the other hand, he has a huge brain and a huge heart. He’s just a big kind of person. That’s not easy for some to deal with. They don’t mind in Italy. They like larger-than-life people there. In most places in the world they don’t mind him. Here, they think he must be conning them.”
I remember the moment that inner rock star was unleashed, in the Mount Temple school gym, in Autumn 1976, when the band that would become U2 played their first show. He stood on a stage of school tables held together by masking tape and, as the band played Peter Frampton’s ‘Show Me The Way’, he picked up the microphone and started to stamp and roar. It was like an electric charge went through the room. The girls in the gymnasium actually started to scream. It was a transformative moment, no doubt about it. “It was really a feeling of liberation,” Bono told me once. “It’s like you’ve jumped into the sea and discovered you can swim. Everything changed for me, cause now I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
And so Bono became a rock star. But he never stopped being himself. He’s fifty years old now, married with children of his own, a loyal husband, a good father, a genuinely nice guy. When I see him now, I can still recognise the boy in the man. I wish more people could see that. But, in thirty years of rock and roll, his detractors haven’t managed to bring him down yet. I’m betting he’s going to be getting on their nerves for a while yet.
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