“I do sound terrible”: the U2 song Bono could never get right
Although it may not seem like it at times, especially considering some of their more off-kilter marketing choices, U2 hold themselves to a standard few other rock bands can match.
It’s actually something that deserves far more credit than it gets: after all, the band have landed in hot water more times than they can probably count, and each time, they’ve responded with the kind of dignified reflection that only comes with either knowing their own worth, or from years and years in the business. Or, in their case, both.
Aside from the odd questionable foray into arenas even they realise weren’t exactly built for them, most of these conversations stem from their own perfectionism, as well as an inability to stay in one place for too long. However, it also comes down to an innate struggle with accepting when a song is actually finished, which usually follows a long slog of trying to adjust certain parts of it until it’s exactly right.
On How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, it became clear that the band didn’t want to pull their usual tricks or play it safe; rather, they wanted to strike a balance between sounding like U2 and making sure it felt fresh without it coming across like what The Edge described as a “reverential pastiche”. This was the case with songs like ‘Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own’, which he’d previously worked on extensively before tabling it entirely, only revisiting it for Atomic Bomb.
On the flip side, there were songs he did feel an immediate emotional connection to, and some even came from a similar vault, like ‘Original Of The Species’, which was initially written for his daughter. What started as a simple ode to someone close to Bono eventually became a more universal ode to individualism, morphing into a song about what he later described as “the difference between knowledge and wisdom”.
The song actually plays well into the mantra the band had at the time, specifically their desire to create something straightforward in its rock-ness, but not too afraid to veer into its own direction if such a decision felt right. It sounds like, as Bono put it when discussing the album in a general sense, “songwriting by accident, by a punk band that wants to play Bach”, as it plays out naturally, with an almost corny undertone that somehow isn’t too overbearing.
Bono, on the other hand, would mostly disagree with that claim. Mainly – and it’s easy to see what he means when you really think about it – he had an issue with his voice, feeling it should’ve been left to some sort of pop ballad maestro like Robbie Williams instead. He also argued that the song was when the band “really began to fall apart”, as it was a “hit or miss” record that had both Bono and The Edge arguing in the studio.
While he appreciated that more people are starting to discover it and enjoy it now, he dismissed his own performance, saying that it would’ve been “better if we got Robbie Williams to do the vocal” because “I do sound terrible on it.” However, once again, The Edge disagreed, to which Bono rather diplomatically said, “Go to hell.” Suffice it to say, then, that despite their desire to venture back to basics and channel their earlier influences, good intentions were no match for unexpected disagreements.
That said, it’s difficult to dismiss the record entirely when it feels like such a pivotal moment in the band’s broader story, not just as a return to their signature charm but also as proof of their ongoing ambition when it comes to standing out and pushing the boundaries of what they’re capable of, because after all, U2 is nothing if not living proof that it’s always worth trying, even if it invites diminishing returns.
