In 2008, it's nearly impossible to imagine U2 as teenagers rehearsing in a Dublin kitchen. Today, they're a powerful brand, a group with closets full of Grammys, more than 170 million records sold worldwide, stadium tours, membership in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and a lead singer whose charitable initiatives have allowed him to hold court with some of the world's most powerful people.
It's funny, then, to think that the band is still the same four guys who first got together in 1976 to form the Larry Mullen Band. When David "the Edge" Evans, Paul "Bono" Hewson, Larry Mullen, Jr., and Adam Clayton released their first EP, Three, in 1979, they were still teenagers with an attitude and naïveté that didn't quite dovetail with the rest of the post-punk world. Even on their earliest recordings, they didn't sound like a band that could be contained by small venues. U2 had to be big.
Those earliest recordings are among the huge clutch of rare tracks-- studio B-sides, previously unreleased tracks, live shows, radio sessions, and remixes-- that populate the bonus discs accompanying these new reissues of the band's first three albums, 1980's Boy, 1981's October, and 1983's War. The first EP, included with Boy, isn't great, in part because the dry percussion is ill-suited to the band's (and particularly the Edge's) textural style; their debut album is another story. Produced by Steve Lillywhite, it opens with "I Will Follow", a surging colossus of a song that still ranks among the best tracks in the band's catalog. Bono's powerful vocals-- he got his nickname from a shorter form of Bono Vox (Good Voice)-- bring immediacy and energy to the album. And he was matched by the Edge's guitar playing, which he approached like a painter does a brush, using it as a tool to coat the canvas of the song with sound rather than resorting to basic riffs or simple strumming.
The version of "Out of Control" on Three had been dry and punky; the version on Boy is a near-anthem, with Bono's yelp transformed into an arcing croon and the Edge's slashing guitar grown into a huge, curling wave. "A Day Without Me" sounds like a rehearsal for an arena gig that was still years away-- the line "started a landslide in my ego" must have had different connotations back then for Bono than it does now. Lillywhite does a great job of capturing what made U2 unique (the Edge's remastering work is also vastly superior to the original CD transfer), and it makes sense that the band re-hired him for its rushed second album, convincing the producer to break his self-imposed rule of never working with an artist more than once.
That sophomore effort, October, is a bit of a wobble for the band. The sound is there, and even more fully fledged than it was on the debut, but the band were staring at a songwriting deficit after Bono's lyric notebook was stolen from a backstage room. Both their improved playing and lack of solid new material are evident on the album, a good-enough record that kept the band on its feet and signed to Island Records after a near-breakup. Here, Bono atypically relies on repetitive lyrics and at times possesses an uncharacteristic tentativeness. Opener "Gloria" displays some musical dynamism, but its Latin-language chorus tempers its anthemic qualities, with only the Edge's searing guitar to cover for the loss.
October does, however, nearly match its predecessor on several songs. "Tomorrow" is a beautiful ballad that gives Bono a chance to show his range, and nods to the band's homeland with its use of yearning Uilleann pipes, while the title track is a spectral, slow song that, unusually for U2, is grounded by a piano. Elsewhere, "Scarlet" is essentially an instrumental, the only lyric being Bono's repetition of the word "Rejoice", one of a handful of vaguely religious references on the album. "With a Shout" comes closest to matching the sweep of "I Will Follow" with its racing rhythm track and strange, dubby horn interjection, but doesn't quite have the hook.
October wasn't an affirming hit and, by its own admission, the band felt pressure to deliver on its third album, believing Island could cut them loose if it bore similar results. It doesn't take long to hear that the band was aiming for something different on War, which opens with a sharply staccato snare drum that sets up a startlingly martial beat. A piercing violin anticipates Bono's entrance: "I can't believe the news today/ I can't close my eyes and make it go away/ How long, how long must we sing this song?" The bass line is a dry, raw rumble, while the Edge slides back and forth between a funky scratch and his signature searching lines. "Sunday Bloody Sunday", pointedly named for the shooting of 26 civilian protesters by members of the 1st Battalion of the British Parachute Regiment in Derry, Northern Ireland in 1972, was an instant anti-war anthem and carried an urgency that outpaced even that of "I Will Follow".
The energy and insistence of the opener is sustained across the album. "Two Hearts Beat As One" and "New Year's Day" are thrilling, finally showing the intense passion Bono's voice was capable of imparting when he had the right words to wrap it around. Outside its three flagship hits, War was eclectic but still entirely U2. "Seconds" rides a hypnotic bass line to a final verse that conflates nuclear standoff with a dance craze; "The Refugee" aims for a sort of downtown NYC alt-disco vibe and is faintly ridiculous for it; "Two Hearts" nails a hard funk-punk groove; and "Surrender" features an early dose of the Edge's fractured slide guitar style. The propulsive "Like a Song..." perhaps sums up the album's immediacy with the opening line "Like a song I had to sing."
As much as these were songs that Bono sincerely felt, he clearly wished that the world was a good enough place that it wouldn't require them. On gentle album closer "40" he returns to a refrain from "Sunday Bloody Sunday", saying "I will sing, sing a new song/ How long to sing this song," regretting the need to sing about the world's ills. The U2 we've known ever since had arrived on War, and even today it sounds vital. As much as cynical critics and listeners often swipe at U2 for their earnestness, it's still refreshing to hear a band that cares so much, wants to be heard by so many, and isn't afraid to show it. As if to hammer home the point, the reissues each include contact information for half a dozen activist charity organizations.
These reissues nicely chart the progression of U2 from wide-eyed kids with a great sound to purposeful musicians and activists several paces down the path to mega-stardom. As products, they do everything a reissue should, presenting the original albums with improved sound in excellent, informative packages-- the 2xCD versions will reward committed fans with a handful of good-to-great live recordings and every available studio curio from the era. (It's admittedly weird to hear "New Year's Day" turned into a club track, but intriguing nonetheless.) Whatever some may say of them, there's no denying that U2 have been an enormously important band for nearly 30 years now, as well as an extraordinary force for good as the members have leveraged their fame to bring attention and funding to innumerable worthy causes. Even the biggest stars have to start somewhere, and these discs are a strong reminder that the best of U2's beginnings remain worthy of attention.
