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There was that line from Damon Albarn, going back a bit, that you were wrecking his buzz. Does that kind of cynicism rankle?
Well, he's apologised for that. We've argued that one out, and I'm sure we'll argue a lot more out. I accept that with these occasions, like the Brits, and pouring cold water into Damon's warm beer, can irritate, but that was the beginning of a campaign, that ended up ridding the world of a hundred billion dollars of debt, and we were deeply serious. Muhammed Ali had come in and the kind of cynicism that that was met with could have, if we had less resolve, derailed us. If you're not going to contribute to the struggle, at least don't get in the way of it, is all I would say.
I know you're not looking for people's appreciation or praise, but do you feel that your efforts in relation to this whole thing are under-appreciated, say in Ireland?
Look, in Ireland, as Bill Graham was always reminding me, it's a problem of scale. U2 are most popular when they keep their heads down, and that's what we try to do most of the time. Even I would have been angry at myself around the time of Slane. Jaysus, how interesting can four people be? Somebody said to me a while back, "You won the World Cup, and then you did it again, and now you're doing it again. We love music, we love football, you won the World Cup." But we didn't really. It is not a good analogy, and we're writers and musicians, and celebrity is an oppressive thing in these times. Ireland is the only country where we are celebrities. We fly below the radar pretty much everywhere else. And that would be our desire for Ireland. We would just like to get on with our lives.
Both Kevin Myers and Vincent Browne, in the Irish Times have poured scorn on your efforts in relation to Drop the Debt.
Something like Slane comes up and you're in the news and people want to have a go, and honestly I don't blame them. It's absolutely fine. But I'm sure that both Kevin Myers and Vincent Browne know that they're being naughty boys. You just have to do the research: even a cursory glance at our schedule would show that I'm not just turning up for the photograph. There's a lot of hard work involved; it's taking a lot of my time and energy away from my family, and I hope it ends soon. I would like not to be in this position, and I appreciate how absurd it is. To have a wealthy pop star in the corridors of power talking about poor people, I understand what that looks like, and I don't like it either. And I think they're just stirring it up, saying, "look, fuck off." I see my picture in the paper and I feel the same sometimes. "Fuck off!" But the ball kind of fell at my feet, and the goal looked kind of open. So I just had to run with it.
Did you see John Waters' comment "U2 are too old and bored with each other to say or do anything of relevance anymore"?
File under the same thing...I love John but it's not us who's lost contact with the music. And I don't think we've ever been as close as a band. Perhaps he just doesn't like the album. With bands, if they make an album you don't like, it's all over. Whereas if your favourite director makes a movie you don't like, you wait for the next one. It's a strange thing. Sean Penn said to me once, on a night out when I was a bit depressed about PopMart in America, and we were sitting there in a hotel room and he said, "You know, they just didn't like the movie." And I realised it's not that they don't like you, they just didn't like this movie!
Slane was obviously a huge moment in different ways. So three months on how do you recall the week of the show?
Whatever it was, it wasn't a concert. It was some sort of sociological event, a sort of gathering of the tribe. But from our point of view, it was like a big wedding, with aunties and uncles, fights in the corner, tears at every turn, too much drink taken, and after that then it became a wake. A wedding, and a wake. I was just holding on for dear life.
Did you think of cancelling, knowing the advanced stage of your father's illness?
I held on to those songs because they were getting me through it, and singing them kept me together. All the keening and wailing you could ever need are in some of those U2 songs. I was ridding myself of a lot of anguish and despair, on a nightly basis. I was certainly doing the right thing by me. I don't know if I was doing the right thing by everybody else. We're probably a better rock 'n' roll band than the one that turned up at Slane, especially the first night because that was a different thing. That was more opera, and I'm just left with an incredible sense of being carried by the crowd. I feel it was a very special day for anyone who was there, especially for the band. But it wasn't just about the music.
There must have been moments when you felt close to succumbing emotionally?
But it had been happening anyway. We were on tour in the U.K. and I was taking a small plane after each concert -- straight off the stage, straight to Dublin, to his bedside, and to his silence, with the crowd still ringing in my ears. These were really difficult times for him and I wanted to be there. My brother Norman covered for me incredibly, and I was reminded that he was really my big brother. He was in control, knew what to do, and I was his passenger. But I did the night shifts. And also some of my dad's brothers and this family called the Lloyds, which he kinda lived with. It was very bizarre. I was disappointed in a way that I couldn't have the conversations with him that I would like to. He was too sick. He had Parkinson's Diseases, so he was whispering a lot of the time. Occasionally, clear as a bell, he would get it out. I remember the nurses saying -- "Great, Bob. Visitors, Bob." He goes, "Yeah, great, great when they leave." All his energy was directed into humour. That was how he kept his dignity. My one prayer was he would keep his dignity. He was a very dignified man, a charming man. But I didn't get that prayer. 'Cause cancer is a cruel and slow process that finally just takes away all dignity, in the last stages, despite the advances in medicine, and the palliative nursing. It was a little epiphany. You know, birth is a messy business too, for mother and child, and I've started to wonder if maybe dignity isn't so important after all. Maybe it's a human construct -- people put it beside things like righteousness and courage, but I don't think it is. I think humility might be much more important to face your maker, and dignity might be a next door neighbour to pride, or worse, to vanity.
Did he find waiting hard, knowing what was coming?
He got irritated at one point. His last words were "Are you all fucking mad?" which is wild. He woke me up in the middle of the night. I went to him and he was whispering. I got the nurse. We both had our ears to his mouth. And then (laughs) as clear as a bell, "Are you all fucking mad?" I jumped. I'm looking for a smile, but he had no smile. He said, "Look, this is a prison. I wanna go home." And he did.
Did you feel closer to him in the end?
I drew him. I have loads of drawings, which I'm glad of. I did all the kind of things he wouldn't let me do when his defences were up. I read to him Shakespeare, Shelley, this new translation I have of the Bible, Eugene Peterson's. He'd run you out of the room for that (laughs). He himself was an autodidact and at an early age, in his 20s, he'd read all the classics, and was a great tenor, a great musician, and opera filled our house. Yesterday, in Ireland, the papers had this thing that I was very angry with him, for not having encouraged me to do the things that he deeply regretted he hadn't done himself. The rage I referred to in the article was the rage I felt as a musician, in compromising the melodies I woke up with. With chord structures that I think could be so much better, had I an education in music. I do have a certain frustration in me, and there is anger in me, but it's not at him, it's at myself, that I haven't managed to overcome that.
Did you bring "Kite" to his attention or was he aware of it?
No. There's an odd one. I have this verse about taking the kids up on Killiney Hill with a kite. Then I realised, I went back in my head, and I remembered being in Rush or Skerries, one incident where exactly the same thing happened. We used to have a caravan, and I sort of felt the goodbye aspect of the song was not from me to him, but from him to me. That's the thing about songwriting -- you're the last to know what you're on about.
Are you still smoking?
No. Recently on a fairly big night, I found my hand wandering into somebody's bag whilst I was talking. I had no idea that my hand was going into somebody else's bag (laughs). And, with some dexterity, taking a cigarette out.
You should have taken money while you were at it.
I was amazed, and lighting the cigarette, before I knew. But you know about that old story: smoking may damage health but your children will kill you.
Are you aware that you're giving a bad example?
It's dumb to smoke, and it really changed my voice, and I lost the high register, and I lost the ability to fly as a singer. I had a lot of complications with my voice anyway. The doctor told me I couldn't smoke.
What age is your eldest now?
Jordan's twelve. Elijah is two and a half and it broke my heart the other day when I asked him what he wanted for Christmas, and he said he wanted a plane, and I said why, and he said, "cause Daddy lives on one." I thought: I'd better get home. I really better get home.
What does Jordan think about your man calling the cars after her?
I think she may be even faster than Eddie (laughs). I can't keep up with her. I took the kids on tour with me for a week. They often come out with Ali, but this time I took them on my own, when I went touring on the West Coast. And we had a real laugh. Ali found it difficult to get them to bed after that 'cause they were keeping rock 'n' roll hours.
At twelve, there are all sorts of new challenges coming up.
They've got a good sense of themselves. I think they've got their mother's security. They can take on whatever, they've got the stuff. I don't think they're spoilt brats. I'm the spoilt brat.
You had your fourth child this year. Do you think now that you're a better father than you were ten years ago?
Yeah, probably. Certainly the shock of it is less after a few tries. I get to spend two weeks with them every few months. I take them on the school run. When I'm around I'm really around. I probably spend more time with my kids than most. And Ali likes that space that it gives her when I am on the road. There's still a sense of mystery about her that even I can't crack. And she likes it that way. The pressures of this kind of life are not what they might be with a less secure woman or house.
Do you ever stop and think that the rock game means little or nothing compared to the life and death issues that you're actually dealing with in the songs?
One of the things that September 11th did was upend celebrity and upend the notion of what is important. So some of the issues of All That You Can't Leave Behind became very important, but singers and their vicissitudes, not so. I like that. I think we should remember that. The band has such things in a good perspective. They know that the aberration of the 21st century, where you get paid a lot of money for what in the Middle Ages you would just be given your supper. I've been saying for many years now, nurses, firemen and doctors are the ones that we need to look after, not spoil us rotten pop stars. We do bring something to the party. It's not life and death, but maybe it's inspiration to live and a place to crash when life doesn't work out right. That's what music brought to me anyway.
As regards U2, there is a joy in the music that allows us to take up the big issues and go through them. There's a sense of wonder in the music, there's a sense of faith and of possibilities and I think it has...I'd like to think it has inspired some people to get organised, to become more active in their political lives. But even if it's just in the moment, if it's a melody that lifts somebody's head up for a minute on a building site, it's worth it to me. Music and politics shouldn't be enemies, especially in Ireland; surely that's a sign of an evolved society where there's discussion between culture and government?
The Frames and David Kitt were voted 1 and 2 in our critics Albums of the Year -- have you heard them?
No. I'd like to. Doing political work, I've missed out on what's going on in Ireland. I always make a point of saying to any of the Irish talents coming through, if there's anything I can do for you I will. I've said it to the Devlins -- their album has a real mood to it. I've said it to Ronan. I've said it to the Corrs -- they're mates. But I haven't said it to the Frames, and I should.
How did you feel when "It's a Beautiful Day" [sic] was chosen as the theme tune for the Premiership?
(Lots of laughs) I just thought there's one row somebody won't have to have with Larry. Larry polices -- and that's the operative word -- the use of our music in film and TV; it's his department. That would be the easiest negotiation anyone has ever had to do.
Do you have any advice for Alex Ferguson about his current refusal to talk to the media?
Go to Celtic!
Do you think he's making a bollox of it?
That's a trick question. What does it say in the Psalm? How the Pot says to the Potter, why hast thou made me thus? (Loads more laughs)
There were times, I'm sure, during the PopMart tour, with the huge production that you took on the road, when you were looking out at the crowd and thinking, great, I'm actually paying for the privilege of singing to people tonight?
It's crass to talk about money and it's especially insensitive to people who don't have it. This tour makes a lot more sense on a financial level, and there is a point where it is mad to pay to play. We have made money on other tours, but we've also paid out money. We spent two million quid playing Australia, for instance. And playing the Middle East. It cost us to get PopMart there. It would cost you a fortune to get to Sarajevo, etc. But you know -- we're loaded! (Laughs) What's the problem? If you can't be fanciful about your art, then you're really betraying the people who have given you your freedom in the first place. Financially there's a deal that goes down, unspoken, unsaid, but very simple: you don't have to worry about your medical bills, your mortgage or when you're going to go on your holidays. But in return, just don't be dull. And don't bend over. Be true to who you are and what you do and run with it, and run amuck with it, and I think we've always done that. As annoying as we can be. At least we're not dull.
There was a suggestion, that building up to this tour, there were guys in the band saying, "Fuck off Bono, I'm not going out again, to lose a shitload of money with a production that fucking kills us." Did Larry put his foot down?
If you're going to play outdoors, it's just going to be more expensive, especially if you want to do something more innovative. We enjoyed Slane this year and that made us think, gosh, maybe you could play outdoors without being one part Pink Floyd. We did on the Joshua Tree tour, after all. The road takes the most out of Larry and myself in terms of physical effort. But Larry wasn't responsible for that. One thing Larry was responsible for was whispering in my ear, at the end of Pop -- it might have been the last day of recording -- "Why don't we actually make a pop record next time?" (Laughs) And indeed we have, essentially. It's very tightly constructed to the ideas of pop music. But if you play indoors you've [got] to play more times a week, with less chance of seeing your family. If you play outdoors you play three times a week, so your family can actually come on the road and see you, and not feel like a piece of luggage. It's swings and roundabouts. The touring operation this time was very, very tight. People like Steve Iredale and Joe O'Herlihy really shone, and the background crew, and Principle Management were at their best. We had an end of tour party in Atlanta. It was very emotional. The truck drivers, the steel riggers, coming up and saying, "This is the greatest tour I've ever been on." It had a spirit about it.
What was the source of that?
The group itself is very, very close at the moment, and I think for U2 to work, that must be so. Unlike say the Kinks or Oasis, groups that actually feed off a certain sibling rivalry, that kind of energy. We need to be able to look each other in the eye. I think in the '90s, we became a little too independent of each other -- there was still the same respect, but as you grow older you can lose the malleability to fit around somebody. Every time, in this group's life, someone's gonna be a bollox. You have to give him enough room, and then when they go too far, take them out of that. Notice how I used the word "them" there (laughs)? I have to say there were far less arseholes on the road this time than I've seen maybe ever before.
Talking about All That You Can't Leave Behind, Daniel Lanois felt very strongly, comparing it to Pop, that you had made the mistake previously of not paying sufficient respect to the people that you were working with, and that you needed to surround yourselves with people capable of making soulful music.
But no one's more soulful than Flood. Flood has a drum machine for a pulse, a heart that's made of music, and Howie's the same. Pop could have been a masterpiece. The songs are extraordinary. We just wore ourselves out and didn't quite finish them. But I'm still very proud of it as a piece of work. You make a record with Daniel Lanois, one of two things is gonna happen -- you are going to make a great record, or somebody is going to die. Either him or you. So it's a real commitment, to make a record with him. If you make a record with Brian Eno, it's gonna be making a record in the other sense of the word. It's not going to be commonplace. It's gonna have to be full of original ideas, or someone's gonna die -- but it's not gonna be him (laughs). He'll be out the back door.
Did you have any reaction to David Blunkett's decision, in the U.K., not to charge people for possession of cannabis?
Sounds smart. I don't know enough about it to comment, but I could never figure out the hierarchy of sins -- or pleasures, I should say. I could never figure out how one was supposed to be worse or better than the other. It's like alcohol or cigarettes. I think smoking weed probably gives you cancer as well, a lot slower. Like all pleasures you have to not abuse them.
Should we go whole hog now and decriminalise the fucking thing?
I would think so. Again I'm not really informed on all the issues, so I wouldn't want to make any pronouncement. I guess the thorny issue is substances that are addictive and people who are prone to them. It's difficult to make something freely available that makes someone a slave, like cigarettes, but they do. It's hard to know. The devil's revenge on extraordinary things is to make them ordinary by doing them too much. That's what access can do to people. Make the extraordinary commonplace.
Any New Year's resolutions?
I haven't thought about it, but I will, because I love that moment. I always take it seriously. We always make prayers at that moment. The kids are around and we have fireworks, we tie our prayers to the rockets and send them off. I love to be in the snow. Sometimes to be in Killiney Bay at midnight if I'm in Dublin, and have an ice cold shot of vodka afterwards. Then you become a firework (laughs). I haven't got this year's resolutions worked out, but I will have. I think I know what it will be. Just at a public level, not to let the opportunity of recent calamities pass. The way that they have brought into sharp focus the ills of this world: if we keep the concentration, we might actually be able to muster support, and to do something about them.
Have you read Salman Rushdie's latest book?
I haven't read Fear and I'm dying to. Paul (McGuinness) has and really liked it.
Did you have any fear about the fact that you were close to Salman, when he stayed in your gaff?
I didn't appreciate the Sunday Independent reminding people of the fact constantly. I think the issue of freedom of speech is very close to the heart of any person who loves rock 'n' roll. It was a moment where you had to stand up and be counted, in whatever small way, so we did. I like Salman very much, but he didn't stay as much as people suggested. There were supposed to be helicopters flying in and out of our bedroom windows. I don't take my own security as seriously as others would. But I take my family's very seriously. We have 24-hour security, and usually when people see the rocket launchers they move on (laughs).
Do you ever ask yourself: what am I gonna be doing when I'm 60?
I think I'll finally be cool. I've never wanted to be cool. I always thought that, as a band, we were hot, almost like Latin, or the way the Celts were hot. It's OK to be cool when you're 60, it's OK to be bad tempered, and -- as Gavin Friday says -- chase children across the road with a stick. I'm looking forward to making music and writing from that perspective. Most of my heroes are older men -- they always have been, from Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Frank Sinatra, Bob Dylan, Brendan Kenneally to Seamus Heaney: I've always had that respect. If you're a novelist, people say you shouldn't start writing till you're 40.
But will you still be doing it at 60?
I don't know how you approach that, or whether we'll be around as a band. We operate a two crap records and you're out principle. I don't think we've made a crap record yet. We've made a few difficult records, but not crap ones!
Have you seen it in your mind's eye, U2 as four guys, up on stage, at the age of 60?
Gosh. A terrifying thought. Standing there with deep lines. Turn around and there's Larry Mullen, still looking 14. A lot of what's going on in this tour, is that people are looking at a set of relationships that have lasted longer than most marriages, and most business relationships. And friendship is, after a number of years, a defiant thing. Every day that's added to a relationship makes it stronger and more courageous. There's an essay by Jean Cocteau about friendship where he suggests that friendship is higher than love, although less passionate, and certainly less romantic, but it has in its very ordinariness a strength that more passionate relationships haven't. It's a very powerful thing. We both know that, if there's one of U2 in the room, or two of us in the room, or three, we have our individual weight. But when there's four of us in the room it changes the molecules a little bit. That's the gang. Add Sheila and Paul and you have a whole corporation (laughs).
One final question, which I really have to ask. Are we gonna win the fucking World Cup?
Well, we're gonna get through to the quarterfinals. That's exciting. It's a young team. What U2 and Irish soccer squad have in common is that we both work best as underdogs. When people expect too much, we invariably let them down. I think it's great that they've got through.
So what about a theme song?
Well, I've an idea. I was talking to Elvis Costello, and you should too, trying to get him to do a version of "Tokyo Storm Warning."
Are you thinking of going to Japan?
You'd have to. It's tricky with the family. I've got a couple of trips to Africa to do. They've been so good to me. Ali is such an independent spirit, and these kids are so generous, but I couldn't go on my own with the lads, I'd have to bring them -- but that might be tricky, seeing as they are not as keen on the game! Part of the thrill of next year will be spending time with them.
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