Mortality is a cruel jester, and yet here I am another year older and, for whatever reason, feeling like the best days of my life are still ahead of me. Indeed, as far as I can tell, there is nothing to stop this from being the best day ever.
When I was a kid one of the special perks about celebrating a birthday was getting to invite someone over for dinner and choosing your own meal. I always asked for my mother’s famous lasagna, and my youngest sister, Sally, always went with a different Italian delicacy: Choo-Choo Wheels. Cath and Mo will have to remind me what their favorite birthday dinner consisted of because I’m getting too old to remember everything, and Joe can tell me I’m full of shit, but I’m pretty sure he called everyone’s bluff one year and blew the whole thing up by requesting surf and turf. Good luck finding “surf” to serve on December 10th in Ohio.
In addition to the main course, we also got to choose our own cake and frosting combinations. My father messed with that tradition by asking for Boston Cream Pie every year. “It’s not cake,” my siblings and I would grouse. “He can’t ask for pie on his birthday, he has to ask for cake.” Well clearly he could ask for anything he wanted, and if we didn’t like it that just meant more birthday pie for him. I also had a trick up my sleeve when it came to picking a cake. Each year, much to my sibling’s dismay, I hopped from lemon to orange to German Chocolate to anything that wasn’t a traditional combination involving chocolate frosting and yellow or chocolate cake. If Funfetti® Vibrant Green cake mix had been invented back then, I definitely would have subjected everyone to it on June 28th in the hope that there would be plenty of leftovers just for me, long after the last candle had been blown out.
There is a three year gap between the last two U2 albums Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience, but they should really be consumed together like cake and ice cream. They are unparalleled musical testaments to the wide-eyed innocence of youth and the grizzled worldliness of experience. More importantly, the are both a superb collection of U2 songs that grow on me more and more with every listen and become increasingly difficult to remove from the turntable, the cd player and the iPod playlist. Both albums reflect a musical talent and relentless personal drive to succeed, create art, and entertain large audiences like they were intimate congregations. From the very first time I met them until the last time I saw them perform a week ago, U2 has always demonstrated a vision for how to keep the aesthetic intact while still moving forward with heartfelt passion, excellent musicianship and a
self-deprecating sense of humor.
Speaking about the first time I met them…(how’s that for a segue into one of my best, well-worn stories that somehow has never gotten the “full treatment” on this website?)
self-deprecating sense of humor.
Speaking about the first time I met them…(how’s that for a segue into one of my best, well-worn stories that somehow has never gotten the “full treatment” on this website?)
It was June 1981. I had just finished my junior year abroad studying at Exeter University, and I was standing in Heathrow Airport waiting for my girlfriend to arrive from America. I’d last seen her in August. Somehow we’d managed to keep our relationship together the past ten months with letters, mix tapes, and one expensive international phone call. I anxiously eyed the double doors through which passengers exit after clearing customs, and tried to look as cool as possible wearing my new Boy t-shirt and reading the latest issue of Melody Maker. Suddenly the automatic doors swung open and four jet-lagged guys I recognized immediately walked out and headed straight for me.
“Where’s the car?” The Edge asked, stepping up in front of me.
“The c-car?” I stammered.
“Yeah, aren’t you the driver they sent to pick us up?” inquired Adam, pointing at my t-shirt as though it might be the standard uniform for all U2 chauffeurs.
“Ahh, no,” I said, as the misunderstanding began to dawn on me. “I’m just here waiting for my girlfriend to get in, sorry.” They all looked disappointed and suddenly even more jetlagged. “Hey,” I said, seizing the opportunity, “did you read what Bruce Springsteen said about you in Melody Maker this week?” Their faces brightened.
“Bruce said something about us?” Bono, Adam, Larry and the Edge gathered around as I shook open the music paper to an interview with Springsteen who was touring the UK for the first time in over six years, in support of
The River.
“Yeah, they asked him if he’s heard any new music that he likes and he said he really likes this new Irish band, U2; especially the sound of The Edge’s guitar.”
The Melody Maker was snatched from my hands as the four took turns reading aloud sections of the Springsteen interview.
Still no driver.
Bono took a soccer ball out of duffle bag and asked me if I played.
“In high school,” I said, “but I wasn’t very good.” He backed up across the terminal concourse and kicked the ball over to me as departing passengers game him a nasty look. I kicked it back, making sure to use the side of my foot
rather than my toe.
“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” he asked, tapping the ball in my direction again.
I trapped the ball for a second and replied, “Mary.” I returned the ball across the floor.
“What city is she coming in from?” Bono asked.
“New York,” I said as the surreal nature of our casual conversation began to grow. “She’s flying out Tuesday night.”
Bono rested his foot on the soccer ball and looked at me. “If she’s flying out of the states Tuesday night, why are you here to pick her up on Tuesday morning? You’re a day early.” He punctuated his point with a swift kick.
The soccer ball skipped past me as I stupidly realized he was right. In my eagerness to see Mary I had miscalculated her arrival by a whole day. Bono trotted past me to retrieve the ball out from under a row of seats. He walked up with the ball tucked under his arm, and patted me on the shoulder. “The things we do for love,” he laughed.
I laughed too. What else could I do? I’d have to return to my friend Andy’s house in Stevenage, and start all over
again tomorrow. What a dope.
“Where’s the car?” The Edge asked, stepping up in front of me.
“The c-car?” I stammered.
“Yeah, aren’t you the driver they sent to pick us up?” inquired Adam, pointing at my t-shirt as though it might be the standard uniform for all U2 chauffeurs.
“Ahh, no,” I said, as the misunderstanding began to dawn on me. “I’m just here waiting for my girlfriend to get in, sorry.” They all looked disappointed and suddenly even more jetlagged. “Hey,” I said, seizing the opportunity, “did you read what Bruce Springsteen said about you in Melody Maker this week?” Their faces brightened.
“Bruce said something about us?” Bono, Adam, Larry and the Edge gathered around as I shook open the music paper to an interview with Springsteen who was touring the UK for the first time in over six years, in support of
The River.
“Yeah, they asked him if he’s heard any new music that he likes and he said he really likes this new Irish band, U2; especially the sound of The Edge’s guitar.”
The Melody Maker was snatched from my hands as the four took turns reading aloud sections of the Springsteen interview.
Still no driver.
Bono took a soccer ball out of duffle bag and asked me if I played.
“In high school,” I said, “but I wasn’t very good.” He backed up across the terminal concourse and kicked the ball over to me as departing passengers game him a nasty look. I kicked it back, making sure to use the side of my foot
rather than my toe.
“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” he asked, tapping the ball in my direction again.
I trapped the ball for a second and replied, “Mary.” I returned the ball across the floor.
“What city is she coming in from?” Bono asked.
“New York,” I said as the surreal nature of our casual conversation began to grow. “She’s flying out Tuesday night.”
Bono rested his foot on the soccer ball and looked at me. “If she’s flying out of the states Tuesday night, why are you here to pick her up on Tuesday morning? You’re a day early.” He punctuated his point with a swift kick.
The soccer ball skipped past me as I stupidly realized he was right. In my eagerness to see Mary I had miscalculated her arrival by a whole day. Bono trotted past me to retrieve the ball out from under a row of seats. He walked up with the ball tucked under his arm, and patted me on the shoulder. “The things we do for love,” he laughed.
I laughed too. What else could I do? I’d have to return to my friend Andy’s house in Stevenage, and start all over
again tomorrow. What a dope.
Feeling more relaxed as a result of my foolish and innocent mistake, I told Bono my first vinyl purchase in the UK was the single, “A Day Without Me,” and when Boy was released I spent money I didn’t really have, to buy that too. I raved about seeing the band perform in the tiny Student Union at Exeter in November and then later in January at St. Alban’s City Hall. “Have you played Cleveland yet,” I asked. “That’s where I’m from. It’s a great city for music. They’ll love you there.”
“We played a place called The Agora,” Bono said. “It was a great club. We’ll definitely go back.”
“When you do, I’ll be there,” I promised. “And I’ll bring friends.”
Bono laughed. We shook hands as though we were consummating an unforgettably important business transaction. Then the driver finally arrived, and Bono, his soccer ball, and the rest of the band were ushered out of the terminal.
“We played a place called The Agora,” Bono said. “It was a great club. We’ll definitely go back.”
“When you do, I’ll be there,” I promised. “And I’ll bring friends.”
Bono laughed. We shook hands as though we were consummating an unforgettably important business transaction. Then the driver finally arrived, and Bono, his soccer ball, and the rest of the band were ushered out of the terminal.
Seven months later on December 8, a dozen friends and I filled two cars and braved a wicked Ohio blizzard to drive 3.5 hours to the Cleveland Agora. I promised the concert experience of a lifetime, and everyone believed me even though only a few had ever even heard the music.
U2 did not let me down. U2 did not let anyone down. After the show
we spilled out of the club into the cold Cleveland night, sweaty and exuberant - converts all.
“Let’s go meet them,” I said once everybody had gathered outside. “I know the hotel where all the bands stay.”
“It’s late,” someone said.
“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us,” someone else chimed in.
“You’re all a bunch of wimps! We’re going!” my new girlfriend Lori declared - starring the group down with a look no one could refuse and the same lust for life she has shown for the past 32 years as my wife.
We navigated the slushy streets of downtown Cleveland and parked in front of Stouffer’s on the Square. Despite Lori’s enthusiasm, I began to question the prudence of my suggestion. I didn’t really have a plan, and even though I knew this was the right hotel, I had no idea what was supposed to happen next. Standing in the cold, dark foyer I started to feel foolish and awkward again: too nervous to actually enter the hotel lobby and too embarrassed to back out and run.
Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity behind us and people started coming through the door. A few people brushed by us and then… Bono stepped into the cramped foyer.
Everyone I’d convinced to attend the show had probably heard the soccer ball in the airport story a million times, but when Bono walked through the front door of Stouffer’s and then walked right up to me with an outstretched hand and said “If it isn’t John Collins. You said you’d be here if we came back to Cleveland and here you are.” I was utterly gobsmacked. He shook everybody hands and even jokingly challenged my friend Paul to “go a few rounds” with him when Lori mentioned that boxing was something they shared in common. We all gushed about the show. He smiled, looking genuinely pleased. Then he asked a few questions, answered a few more, apologized for being tired, and graciously took his leave. I have ardently followed U2 ever since, and remain ever grateful to innocence and serendipity for introducing me to the greatest rock n’ roll band that I have ever experienced.
U2 did not let me down. U2 did not let anyone down. After the show
we spilled out of the club into the cold Cleveland night, sweaty and exuberant - converts all.
“Let’s go meet them,” I said once everybody had gathered outside. “I know the hotel where all the bands stay.”
“It’s late,” someone said.
“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us,” someone else chimed in.
“You’re all a bunch of wimps! We’re going!” my new girlfriend Lori declared - starring the group down with a look no one could refuse and the same lust for life she has shown for the past 32 years as my wife.
We navigated the slushy streets of downtown Cleveland and parked in front of Stouffer’s on the Square. Despite Lori’s enthusiasm, I began to question the prudence of my suggestion. I didn’t really have a plan, and even though I knew this was the right hotel, I had no idea what was supposed to happen next. Standing in the cold, dark foyer I started to feel foolish and awkward again: too nervous to actually enter the hotel lobby and too embarrassed to back out and run.
Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity behind us and people started coming through the door. A few people brushed by us and then… Bono stepped into the cramped foyer.
Everyone I’d convinced to attend the show had probably heard the soccer ball in the airport story a million times, but when Bono walked through the front door of Stouffer’s and then walked right up to me with an outstretched hand and said “If it isn’t John Collins. You said you’d be here if we came back to Cleveland and here you are.” I was utterly gobsmacked. He shook everybody hands and even jokingly challenged my friend Paul to “go a few rounds” with him when Lori mentioned that boxing was something they shared in common. We all gushed about the show. He smiled, looking genuinely pleased. Then he asked a few questions, answered a few more, apologized for being tired, and graciously took his leave. I have ardently followed U2 ever since, and remain ever grateful to innocence and serendipity for introducing me to the greatest rock n’ roll band that I have ever experienced.
Last week, for my birthday, Andy, Lori and I saw U2 perform at the Capital One Arena. It was my 12th U2 concert. Bono and I are both 58. On stage he shows no signs of slowing down. On record he shows no signs of giving in. In concert he sings, he jokes, he espouses compromise, oneness, and love. In fact, love is his mantra. It’s also clearly the glue that holds the band together after all these years, and unites their fans both young… and old. Love. It’s not a bad mantra to live by, really.
And on yet another day when a mass shooting has taken place—this time just down the road in Annapolis—I will make it my mantra too, because:
The Beatles say it’s all you need.
Joy Division says it will tear you apart.
The Troggs say it is all around.
Smash Palace says it will find a way.
Nick Kelly says it’s a mystery and there’s not enough to go around.
Otherkin says it’s a liability.
Tommy Keene says it dies down and it’s the only thing that matters.
Amy Rigby says there’s a downside to it.
Frank Sinatra says it’s a tender trap.
Miles Davis says you don’t know what it is.
Nikki Lane says it’s on fire.
The Vanjas need it.
Trapper is hiding it.
Johnny Winter is blinded by it.
A Silent Film says it takes a wrecking ball.
The Sweet says it’s like oxygen.
Nazareth says it hurts.
10cc says it’s silly.
Talking Heads say it’s for sale.
David Bowie says it’s lost.
David Byrne and Celia Cruz are crazy for it.
The Manic Street Preachers say alone, it’s not enough.
Slade are burnin’ in the heat of it.
Visqueen will fight for it.
The House of Love says it’s in a car.
Matt Stansberry and the Romance say it wins.
The Communions says it stands still.
Ballboy says there’s a Europewide search for it.
Woodpiegon says it’s as tall as the Calgary Tower.
Max Eider says there’s other kinds.
The Charade says it always happens so fast.
Mark Knopfler says it will never fade.
The Undertones say they need it the way it used to be.
The Stars say you should hold on when you get it and let go when you give it.
The Supremes wonder where it went, but they also say it can’t be hurried.
John Coltrane says you don’t know what it is.
Brendan Benson says there’s an alternative to it.
The Who says it ain’t for keeping.
Robert Palmer is addicted to it.
The Kinks say there is no life without it.
Lloyd Cole says it ruins everything.
The Del-Lords are burning in the flame of it.
The Lazy Darlings are all for it.
The Brilliant Corners lost it.
Junior Parker says it ain’t nothin’ but a business going on.
The Pretenders say there’s a thin line between it and hate.
Aretha Franklin says it’s a serious business.
The Chromatics say they’d kill for it.
Eddie Floyd says it’s warm and tender.
Donovan says you should wear it like heaven.
Talking Heads say it goes to a building on fire.
Stephen Stills says it’s only for the one you’re with.
The White Stripes say you don’t know what it is.
Japan says it wears forbidden colors.
Gang of Four say it will hit you like a case of anthrax.
Jimmy Ruffin says everybody needs it.
Zoo Seven says it’s like aerosol.
The Yardbirds got it if you want it.
Gary Wright say it’s alive.
XTC say they know the man who murdered it.
The Wooden Birds believe in it.
Jackie Wilson says it keeps lifting him higher.
Sonny Boy Williamson says it’s all in vain.
Lucinda Williams wants to steal it from you.
Barry White can’t get enough of it.
Led Zeppelin has a whole lot of it.
The V.I.P’s say it’s a golden word.
The Undertones say it’s one way.
Pete Townshend wants it to open the door.
Kevin Thista says it plays a dirty game.
Talking Heads say uh-oh when it comes to town.
Stiff Little Fingers say it’s like barbed wire.
The Stems say it’s undying and it will grow.
The Stabalisers say it’s plastic and easy in the summertime.
Bruce Springsteen says it won’t let you down.
Dusty Springfield says you should put a little in your heart.
Soft Cell says it’s tainted.
Jill Sobule says it’s never equal.
Slade says it’s like a rock.
Sing-Sing are far away from it.
Frank Sinatra wants to take a chance on it.
Joe Simon is drowning in a sea of it.
Ryan Shaw is working on a building of it.
The School doesn’t believe in it.
Rudi says it goes on.
Roxy Music says it’s a drug.
Ricky Ross says it isn’t hard it’s strong.
Eli “Paperboy” Reed wants you to take his with you.
The Raveonettes are expelled from it.
The Rascals say it’s a beautiful thing.
Raphael Saadiq is staying in it.
Rank and File are unlucky in it.
Queen calls it a crazy little thing.
Jimi Hendrix is bold as it.
Elvis is a big hunk of it.
The Power of Dreams say there’s 100 ways to kill it.
Phoenix say it’s like a sunset…in two parts.
Liz Hair says it is nothing and yet she counts on it.
Madelieine Peyroux wants to be danced to the end of it.
The Perfect Disaster wants to keep its feet on the ground.
Ann Peebles slipped, tripped and fell into it.
The Partridge Family woke up in it this morning.
The Painted Word found it today.
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart say it’s fucking right!
Outrageous Cherry say it will change the word.
Beth Orton wants you to touch her with it.
Roy Orbison says it’s so beautiful.
Ohio Players say it’s a rollercoaster.
Nada Surf want to be inside of it.
The Mutton Birds want to be pulled along by it.
The Mighty Lemon Drops want to go into the heart of it.
The Magic Numbers say it’s just a game.
The Lyres want you to do it until the sun shines.
The Kooks want to be eaten by it.
The Kills say it’s a deserter.
The Kaiser Chiefs say it’s not a competition.
The Jungle Rockers say it’s a trap.
Joy Division says there’s none lost.
The J. Geils Band are cruising for it even though it stinks.
Idlewild says it steals us from loneliness.
The Hussy’s say this must be it.
Buddy Holly says it made a fool of you.
Hollow Horse wonder if it is the answer, what was the question?
Robyn Hitchcock used to say it.
Richard Hell and the Voidoids say it comes in spurts.
The Grip Weeds say it’s lost on you.
Grin wants to see what it can do.
The Go-Betweens say it goes on.
Nick Gilder says it’s all because of it.
Foreigner wants to know what it is.
The Fondas can’t live without it, but want to say goodbye to it.
Flying Color say it’s on its way.
Fleetwood Mac want you to spare a little of it.
Fleetwood Mac also needs it so bad.
The Flatmates say it cuts.
Bryan Ferry is a slave to it.
The Fevers say it’s getting better.
Even as We Speak say it is the answer.
The Eurythmics say it’s a stranger.
Elk City says it’s like a bomb.
The Elms want to let it in.
Max Eider says it’s blind.
Edison Lighthouse says it grows (where my rosemary goes).
The Dirtbombs say it belongs under a rock.
Derek & The Dominoes wonder why its got to be so sad.
Fabienne DelSol doesn’t want you to throw it away.
The Delmontes say it’s a guillotine.
The Darkness believes in a thing called it.
Roger Daltrey wants you to come and get it.
The Cure are in it on Friday.
Petula Clark says it’s here.
The Cat Empire wanted to write a song about it.
The Brontosaurus Chorus says it’s the path to self destruction.
Elvin Bishop fooled around and fell in it.
Belle and Sebastian want to write about it.
The Bees really need it.
The Beatles want you to hide it away.
Bad Company is ready for it and they feel like makin’ it.
Johnny Adams is blinded by it.
Aberfeldy say it’s an arrow.
Blue Oyster Cult says it’s not the summer of it.
A Camp says it has left the room.
U2 says it’s everlasting.
U2 want to be rescued by it.
U2 says hold on to it in luminous times.
U2 says it comes tumbling.
U2 says it’s blindness.
U2 says there’s no end to it.
U2 says it is bigger than anything in its way.
U2 says it’s the summer of it.
U2 says it’s all we have left.
(Please use the comments box to share your thoughts.)
The Beatles say it’s all you need.
Joy Division says it will tear you apart.
The Troggs say it is all around.
Smash Palace says it will find a way.
Nick Kelly says it’s a mystery and there’s not enough to go around.
Otherkin says it’s a liability.
Tommy Keene says it dies down and it’s the only thing that matters.
Amy Rigby says there’s a downside to it.
Frank Sinatra says it’s a tender trap.
Miles Davis says you don’t know what it is.
Nikki Lane says it’s on fire.
The Vanjas need it.
Trapper is hiding it.
Johnny Winter is blinded by it.
A Silent Film says it takes a wrecking ball.
The Sweet says it’s like oxygen.
Nazareth says it hurts.
10cc says it’s silly.
Talking Heads say it’s for sale.
David Bowie says it’s lost.
David Byrne and Celia Cruz are crazy for it.
The Manic Street Preachers say alone, it’s not enough.
Slade are burnin’ in the heat of it.
Visqueen will fight for it.
The House of Love says it’s in a car.
Matt Stansberry and the Romance say it wins.
The Communions says it stands still.
Ballboy says there’s a Europewide search for it.
Woodpiegon says it’s as tall as the Calgary Tower.
Max Eider says there’s other kinds.
The Charade says it always happens so fast.
Mark Knopfler says it will never fade.
The Undertones say they need it the way it used to be.
The Stars say you should hold on when you get it and let go when you give it.
The Supremes wonder where it went, but they also say it can’t be hurried.
John Coltrane says you don’t know what it is.
Brendan Benson says there’s an alternative to it.
The Who says it ain’t for keeping.
Robert Palmer is addicted to it.
The Kinks say there is no life without it.
Lloyd Cole says it ruins everything.
The Del-Lords are burning in the flame of it.
The Lazy Darlings are all for it.
The Brilliant Corners lost it.
Junior Parker says it ain’t nothin’ but a business going on.
The Pretenders say there’s a thin line between it and hate.
Aretha Franklin says it’s a serious business.
The Chromatics say they’d kill for it.
Eddie Floyd says it’s warm and tender.
Donovan says you should wear it like heaven.
Talking Heads say it goes to a building on fire.
Stephen Stills says it’s only for the one you’re with.
The White Stripes say you don’t know what it is.
Japan says it wears forbidden colors.
Gang of Four say it will hit you like a case of anthrax.
Jimmy Ruffin says everybody needs it.
Zoo Seven says it’s like aerosol.
The Yardbirds got it if you want it.
Gary Wright say it’s alive.
XTC say they know the man who murdered it.
The Wooden Birds believe in it.
Jackie Wilson says it keeps lifting him higher.
Sonny Boy Williamson says it’s all in vain.
Lucinda Williams wants to steal it from you.
Barry White can’t get enough of it.
Led Zeppelin has a whole lot of it.
The V.I.P’s say it’s a golden word.
The Undertones say it’s one way.
Pete Townshend wants it to open the door.
Kevin Thista says it plays a dirty game.
Talking Heads say uh-oh when it comes to town.
Stiff Little Fingers say it’s like barbed wire.
The Stems say it’s undying and it will grow.
The Stabalisers say it’s plastic and easy in the summertime.
Bruce Springsteen says it won’t let you down.
Dusty Springfield says you should put a little in your heart.
Soft Cell says it’s tainted.
Jill Sobule says it’s never equal.
Slade says it’s like a rock.
Sing-Sing are far away from it.
Frank Sinatra wants to take a chance on it.
Joe Simon is drowning in a sea of it.
Ryan Shaw is working on a building of it.
The School doesn’t believe in it.
Rudi says it goes on.
Roxy Music says it’s a drug.
Ricky Ross says it isn’t hard it’s strong.
Eli “Paperboy” Reed wants you to take his with you.
The Raveonettes are expelled from it.
The Rascals say it’s a beautiful thing.
Raphael Saadiq is staying in it.
Rank and File are unlucky in it.
Queen calls it a crazy little thing.
Jimi Hendrix is bold as it.
Elvis is a big hunk of it.
The Power of Dreams say there’s 100 ways to kill it.
Phoenix say it’s like a sunset…in two parts.
Liz Hair says it is nothing and yet she counts on it.
Madelieine Peyroux wants to be danced to the end of it.
The Perfect Disaster wants to keep its feet on the ground.
Ann Peebles slipped, tripped and fell into it.
The Partridge Family woke up in it this morning.
The Painted Word found it today.
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart say it’s fucking right!
Outrageous Cherry say it will change the word.
Beth Orton wants you to touch her with it.
Roy Orbison says it’s so beautiful.
Ohio Players say it’s a rollercoaster.
Nada Surf want to be inside of it.
The Mutton Birds want to be pulled along by it.
The Mighty Lemon Drops want to go into the heart of it.
The Magic Numbers say it’s just a game.
The Lyres want you to do it until the sun shines.
The Kooks want to be eaten by it.
The Kills say it’s a deserter.
The Kaiser Chiefs say it’s not a competition.
The Jungle Rockers say it’s a trap.
Joy Division says there’s none lost.
The J. Geils Band are cruising for it even though it stinks.
Idlewild says it steals us from loneliness.
The Hussy’s say this must be it.
Buddy Holly says it made a fool of you.
Hollow Horse wonder if it is the answer, what was the question?
Robyn Hitchcock used to say it.
Richard Hell and the Voidoids say it comes in spurts.
The Grip Weeds say it’s lost on you.
Grin wants to see what it can do.
The Go-Betweens say it goes on.
Nick Gilder says it’s all because of it.
Foreigner wants to know what it is.
The Fondas can’t live without it, but want to say goodbye to it.
Flying Color say it’s on its way.
Fleetwood Mac want you to spare a little of it.
Fleetwood Mac also needs it so bad.
The Flatmates say it cuts.
Bryan Ferry is a slave to it.
The Fevers say it’s getting better.
Even as We Speak say it is the answer.
The Eurythmics say it’s a stranger.
Elk City says it’s like a bomb.
The Elms want to let it in.
Max Eider says it’s blind.
Edison Lighthouse says it grows (where my rosemary goes).
The Dirtbombs say it belongs under a rock.
Derek & The Dominoes wonder why its got to be so sad.
Fabienne DelSol doesn’t want you to throw it away.
The Delmontes say it’s a guillotine.
The Darkness believes in a thing called it.
Roger Daltrey wants you to come and get it.
The Cure are in it on Friday.
Petula Clark says it’s here.
The Cat Empire wanted to write a song about it.
The Brontosaurus Chorus says it’s the path to self destruction.
Elvin Bishop fooled around and fell in it.
Belle and Sebastian want to write about it.
The Bees really need it.
The Beatles want you to hide it away.
Bad Company is ready for it and they feel like makin’ it.
Johnny Adams is blinded by it.
Aberfeldy say it’s an arrow.
Blue Oyster Cult says it’s not the summer of it.
A Camp says it has left the room.
U2 says it’s everlasting.
U2 want to be rescued by it.
U2 says hold on to it in luminous times.
U2 says it comes tumbling.
U2 says it’s blindness.
U2 says there’s no end to it.
U2 says it is bigger than anything in its way.
U2 says it’s the summer of it.
U2 says it’s all we have left.
(Please use the comments box to share your thoughts.)