U2 delighted fans this evening with a surprise performance from the balcony of Bewley’s Café on Grafton Street.
The poorly kept secret had rippled through the city all day, drawing fans in their droves from mid-afternoon for a glimpse of Bono and the Edge. A group of Spanish tourists looked on in bewilderment at the madding crowd. “U Dos?” one asked. Having performed at Mount Temple Comprehensive School earlier in the day, the Dublin band brought the city together in song as evening fell.
The rock titans, who formed in drummer Larry Mullen’s Artane kitchen fifty years ago today, remain one of the world’s bestselling musical acts and are considered one of the greatest bands of all time. The feverish anticipation before Mullen appeared on the balcony at 7pm was hardly a surprise. It remains staggering to reflect on how it all began: an ordinary Saturday in September 1976, set in motion by a simple notice board note reading, ‘Drummer seeks musicians to form band’.
They kicked off the set with I Will Follow from their seminal debut “Boy”, followed by Out of Control. From there, the band launched into a trio of hits and fan favourites: One, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, and With or Without You. They interspersed these raw, stripped-back arrangements with evocative snippets of Prince’s Purple Rain and Molly Malone. Leaning out over the railings, Bono’s exquisite vocals and scintillating high notes belied his five-decade career.
Having given the song its live debut earlier in Clontarf, U2 then turned to Silencio, the new single from their upcoming album, “Carnaval de Luz”. The record is already generating immense anticipation, not least due to its feature of Dolly Parton’s final recording on Torn.
There was a deeply poignant moment as Bono paid tribute to Glen Hansard, the legendary Dublin musician who tragically passed away in July. The Edge took lead vocals on a moving cover of Falling Slowly. Beautiful Day went down a storm; as did a few joyful bars of Elbow’s One Day Like This. One day like this would see me right, indeed.
Vertigo prompted the biggest cheer of the night. For the encore, under a sky darkening to an inky blue, the band took a fan request with 40 from 1983’s “War”. In total, the performance spanned eight of their celebrated studio albums.
Since U2’s formation, Dublin has changed, changed utterly. It is difficult to overstate how distant the social, cultural, and economic reality of 1970s Ireland feels today. That the band has maintained such an ardent global following – from post-punk roots through rootsy Americana and electronic reinvention – is a testament to their enduring artistry.
Throughout this surreal evening, far from the glamour of the Las Vegas Sphere, there was a rare, salient sense of innocence and community in the air. U2 was a Dublin band once more. People across ages and backgrounds were united by song. Young children watched history unfold from their parents’ shoulders. Near the front, two young boys squeezed against the security barricade and looked down the packed street.
“Who’s playing?” one asked.
“The greatest band in the world,” replied an older lady with a smile. “Before your time.”
