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Review: U2’s Joshua Tree tour opener in Brisbane disappoints with poor song choice

U2’s first Aussie show in nine years broke a maxim of show business and left us hoping for less.

U2 delivers its Brisbane concert in The Joshua Tree Tour at Suncorp Stadium on Tuesday. Picture: AAP
U2 delivers its Brisbane concert in The Joshua Tree Tour at Suncorp Stadium on Tuesday. Picture: AAP

Although the name of U2’s fifth album is printed on the ticket, the band’s first Australian concert in nine years did not open with The Joshua Tree. Instead, the Irish quartet opted to showcase some of its best achievements before that landmark set of songs.

The musicians’ arrival on stage was a visual representation of their 1983 single Sunday Bloody Sunday: first, drummer Larry Mullen Jr strode towards the centre­ of the stadium, where a small stage protruded into the audience. There, he began tapping out its distinctive military tattoo before being joined by crisp, clean guitar notes played by The Edge.

Behind him emerged Bono, the effervescent vocalist, whose first words of the night — “I can’t believe­ the news today / I can’t close my eyes and make it go away” — might have cut a little close to the bone for the tens of thousands in attendance, given the thick pall of smoke from nearby bushfires that had hung over Brisbane in recent days.

READ MORE: Story behind U2’s The Joshua Tree | U2’s Bono confronts his mortality

Last, Adam Clayton joined his bandmates while picking out a growling bassline.

This is U2 as it existed four decades­ ago: guitar, bass, drums, vocals and few other frills. The Edge is freed from prodding at a pedal board, with his effects appare­ntly being handled offstage. Much later in the show, Bono will smirk as he describes the band as a “post-punk combo”, as its musicianship and ambitions clearly have long since outgrown those basic beginnings.

Much has changed since these four men composed these songs, both in their lives and in the wider world, yet what they wrote as much younger artists is still put across with vigour. The decision to open with a clutch of tracks released­ before U2’s biggest selling album is a great one, as it foregrounds the undeniable chemistry that fed into all of those works. Next was New Year’s Day, with the guitarist alternating between piano notes and swooping his hand down the fretboard to prod­uce a shower of glittering harmonics. Then came 1984’s Bad, in which Bono interposed the chorus to Beds are Burning, with praise for firefighters at song’s end.

It was only after Pride (In the Name of Love) that the quartet stepped on to the much, much larger stage that filled one end of Suncorp Stadium and, after the fine entree of early songs, we settled­ in for the main course.

For many years the first song from 1987’s The Joshua Tree has been prized by the four musicians for its alchemical properties. In interview­s, they have noted that, no matter how badly their night on stage may be going, they alway­s have this one in their collectiv­e back pocket, ready and willing to turn a bronze gig to gold.

As the gigantic LED screen behind­ the band came to life with impossibly crisp black-and-white footage of a long drive down a straight desert road, Where the Streets Have No Name was proudly unfurled like a banner. It remains a deeply strange work, especially­ for a hit single: its extend­ed introduction is all atmos­phere. The Edge’s delayed­ guitar sounds pinballed around the stadium, and it was two minutes before Bono’s voice entered the mix. It is a thing of wonder that has lost none of its power.

The meat of the 140-minute set was the 11 songs of The Joshua Tree, played front to back, faithfully and with great skill. All of these songs essentially live or die depending on how Bono’s voice is faring and, at 59, his range and control remain impressive. The band had taken a year off from performing and only returned to the big stage for the two Auckland shows that preceded this one.

As ever, Bullet the Blue Sky and Exit were the moody outliers, built on heavy percussion and guitar­ pyrotechnics. Much of the rest of The Joshua Tree is upbeat and uplifting, and ideal for big outdoo­r venues. Before this tour, which began on the album’s 30th anniversary in 2017, Red Hill Mining­ Town had never been performed­ live. Yet it was a resounding highlight of this concert, with Bono’s aching chorus melody accompanied by a brass section shown on the big screen.

Trip Through Your Wires swung mightily on Clayton’s bassline, while the plaintive One Tree Hill was dedicated to the band’s New Zealand-born roadie Greg Carroll, who died in a motorcycle accident not long before work began on these songs. This was a wholly satisfying performance of what remains U2’s best album.

Things began to go south in the encore songs that followed, as they unintentionally emphasised the decline of U2’s songwriting in recent years. Here, the electrifying heights of the main set were offset by deadening lows. Elevation (2001) and Vertigo (2004) sounded­ thin and insipid when compared with the masterclass in layered, thoughtful compositions we had just witnessed.

All concerts are a balancing act between the artists pleasing the fans with familiar material, and pleasing themselves with newer works. U2 got the balance badly wrong here: it’s telling that a highlight of the eight-song encore was Every Breaking Wave, a piano ballad from 2014’s Songs of Innocence. It’s a fine song but, despite its strengths, the nature of the arrangeme­nt sucked the energy from the stadium like nothing else.

The penultimate song, Love is Bigger Than Anything in Its Way — a deep cut from the band’s most recent album, 2017’s Songs of Experi­ence — was a misfire. Like so much of the recent material, it’s a largely forgettable mid-tempo rocker. Immediately before it, though, 1991 song Ultraviolet (Light My Way) was accompanied by a rotating backdrop of notable women. Australians Cathy Freeman, Magda Szubanski, Hannah Gadsby and Nova Peris were among them, alongside Swedish teen activist Greta Thunberg.

The intent was laudable: four blokes comprising one of the world’s biggest bands, making a feminist statement calling for equal­ity for all. That carried into final song One, which Bono introduced with a message of unity and solving our problems together.

The collective weight of this band’s quality material is heavier than most, yet in ending its first Australian show in nine years with more of a whimper than the roar that came before, U2 broke a maxim of show business. Rather than leaving us wanting more, it left us hoping for a little less.

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Original URL: https://www.theaustralian.com.au/arts/music/unforgettable-fire/news-story/b0e7f5ba17cc1e2ceae1f05dfc2b3090