Mysterious Ways

(3 of 3)
After 10 months of endless talking and recording-studio drudgery, U2 held another meeting and finally reached something approaching unanimity on the new album. "I do believe we have the hits now," says Clayton--and he's right. How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb is the catchiest album U2 has ever made, though it is neither political--the titular bomb refers to Bono's tempestuous father, who died in 2001--nor, as Vertigo suggests, a garage rocker. Mostly it's perfectly rendered grandiose pop, enormous in sound and theme. Bono sings about salvation (Yahweh), love (A Man and a Woman), doubt (One Step Closer) and, on All Because of You, himself ("I like the sound of my own voice, I didn't give anyone else a choice") in vocals crisper and more confident than those on All That You Can't Leave Behind. The rhythm section supports him with typically selfless precision during the verses and controlled fury during the breaks.

But the real star of Bomb is the Edge. On the up-tempo tracks, his guitar swaggers with a grimy, lo-fi elegance. On the half a dozen ballads, he doesn't hesitate to sample the clean, echoing minimalism he created on U2's earlier records. The result is an album that references old sounds for the devoted, integrates fuzzy new ones for the kids and delivers a staggering number of indelible hooks. The only notable weakness is that the pursuit of those hooks keeps Bomb rooted in the thrill-delivering formula of verse-chorus-verse-pedal-steel solo, depriving it of the mood-altering qualities of Achtung Baby or The Joshua Tree. Listening to Bomb straight through a few times is a bit like staring into a closetful of sequins. But depth is not what this album is after. It's a statement of competitiveness and relevance, and the best example of intelligent pop hitmaking this year.

Having gone through the agony of making hits, U2 wants to make sure its songs will be heard. Radio has been unfriendly to the band for years (its last Top 10 hit was 1997's Discotheque, which peaked at No. 10), so the group decided to cooperate with Apple on a customized black iPod and the now ubiquitous Vertigo silhouette ads, though they didn't do it solely for a payday. "A big car company once offered us $25 million for one of our songs," says Bono, "and we turned them down. No money changed hands in this deal. Downloading is the future, and we want to be King Canute. Let's get on the surfboard and ride the wave." As of last week, Vertigo had ruled the iTunes download chart for most of the past month. "We shall not go gently," says Bono.

U2 will start yet another world tour in March 2005, right after its members turn up for their presumed induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. None of them are particularly pleased to be reminded that they released their first record 25 years ago, as the hall requires for inductees, but Bono admits he can't wait to join his idols the Beatles and Bob Marley. Clayton and Mullen Jr., naturally, have a different take. "I suppose if people want to shower you with honors, the only reasonable thing to do is accept them," says Clayton. "But it does feel premature," says Mullen Jr. "We're trying to stay focused on the big prize." Someone has to.