NOT YOUR MAMA'S ROCK N' ROLL . . .

U2 at the Continental Arena: it could have been everything I've ever dreamed of, and more. But as far as dreams go, I'd have to classify it as one of those fillers that come between the first and second memorable dreams one has at night.

Not that it wasn't full of its share of good times. They played all my new favorites from the latest album: "City of Blinding Lights," "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own," "All Because of You," and my favorite of favorites, "Yahweh." They busted out some tunes that transported me back to my good ol' college days: "One," "Mysterious Ways" and "Zoo Station." They threw out some amazing and pleasantly dizzying lights on "Beautiful Day" and "Vertigo." They took me back to my earliest U2 days (still not early enough for some, I know) with: "Sunday Bloody Sunday," "Bullet the Blue Sky" and "Pride in the Name of Love." They even tossed in a snippet of a song so close to my heart, the Beatles' "Blackbird," that nearly brought tears to my eyes. And easily, one of the highlights was seeing a local garage band, The Bank Robbers, be pulled up out of the audience and invited onto the stage to play "I Still Haven't Found (What I'm Looking For)". They were pretty damn good, as far as local garage bands go, and the vicarious thrill I felt was totally worth it. To play The Edge's guitar. To share a mike with Bono. To have your voices recorded for all posterity in U2's little computers. In the words of Napoleon Dynamite, that's incredible.

But. BUT. Big, big, big BUT.
They just weren't dirty enough for me.

Check that. Bono wasn't dirty enough for me. As I explained to PEd, having never seen U2 in concert before, I was mentally stuck in the 1980s-early 1990s, when U2 was gritty, rock-n-roll, grubby, soulful. When their music had me cranking down my car windows to sing out at the top of my lungs until my voice cracked and polyps formed on my vocal chords. When the guitar riffs had me stomping my feet and slapping my thighs and shaking my head back and forth to the rhythm. When the blood, sweat and tears coming forth from their voices pooled at their feet, soaking the soles of their shoes. U2 defined high school and college for me, and that's all I wanted to see.

Instead, I got United-Nations-I-hang-with-Nelson-Mandela-and-was-nominated-for-a-Nobel-Peace-Prize-and-wear-slick-shades-and-run-a-major-charitable-organization Bono. I got I-have-serious-political-opinions-and-I-want-you-to-know-them-so-I'm-going-to-run-propaganda-on-the-screen-behind-me Bono. I got I-know-you-guys-love-these-old-songs-so-I'll-sing-them-for-you-but-I-won't-really-enjoy-it Bono. I got you-should-buy-an-iPod-because-I-help-advertise-them Bono. I think I've got serious issues with Bono even though I'm sure he's a very nice person and his heart is in the right place. But for now, the only thing that truly charms me about him is his Irish accent.

I'm all about artists expressing themselves in a public forum. I'm also all about political awareness. I'm all about stopping hunger and promoting peace. I'm all about the International Declaration of Human Rights. I'm all about all sorts of good things, and I'm glad that someone as high-profile, as adored and admired, and yes, even idolized, as Bono, is spearheading efforts to spread all these good things and to make excellent changes in humanity as we know it. I just like to compartmentalize, to Container-Store my life, and when I go to hear good music, that's all I want. That's what I got with John Mayer and Missy Elliott and Alicia Keys and even Beyonce. Propaganda and preaching tainted my first and only Madonna experience, and the non-compartmentalization taint reached into my first and only U2 experience. Sigh and sniff, sniff.

Thank goodness for The Edge. He still rocked out. I love him and his bald head and his little beanie and his neat goatee and his stomping his feet and his slapping on his guitar. He saved the show.

Also, thank goodness for encores, for oddly, that's when U2 hit its stride. That's when U2 as I know them busted out and started rockin' and rollin' and performing for the joy of the music, not for the joy of campaigning. That's when I boogied down without feeling emotionally manipulated and let my feet do the stomping. That's when I went wild and my insides trembled with the reality that I WAS SEEING U2 IN CONCERT. Awesome.