The Memorable Moments Of ZooTV: Live From Sydney—By Kelly
The Memorable Moments of ZooTV: Live From Sydney
Kelly Eddington
(Note: this article was originally half of a longer gif-review of Sydney. My part concentrated largely on the beginning and ending of the show. Brian Betteridge wrote the other half and covered everything else. I still think my stuff holds together as a review, but please don’t think I dislike the middle section. Because it’s all incredible.—K)
ZooTV Live from Sydney is a tour de force and a triumph of performance art. The screens, the cameras, the characters, the costumes...ZooTV almost defies description. The scale was heroic; the tone was ironic. Poetic. Magic. As far as filming it goes, can you really do it justice? ZooTV Live from Sydney attempts to do so and largely succeeds.
ZOO STATION 1
After the sensory overload of the beginning sequence, Bono appears in silhouette against the Vidiwalls. He looks and acts like the exact opposite of his previous Joshua Tree iteration as Zoo Station revs up. U2’s bizarre new mission statement is spellbinding from the word go, and I think the band would be pleased to know that to this day I tend to stand in front of my TV screen, slack-jawed even after let’s say 750 viewings, until a worm’s-eye camera sweeps over to the Edge. The song’s crashing, industrial beginning becomes melodic and warm in a way that seems, for lack of a better word, reassuringly U2-ey. This is the part where I remember to exhale for the first time in something like five minutes.
ZOO STATION 2
Seconds later, an animalistic Bono flicks his cigarette away and struts to the microphone, where he will execute a series of obviously choreographed and semi-embarrassing rock star moves that still manage to be, uh, yeah, real sexy. Case in point: the above body roll, which is impossible to duplicate at home unless you have thighs of steel. As wonderful as the rest of the band are for the entirety of the concert, ZooTV is without question Bono’s house, and it showcases his creativity, range, and courage as a performer, including this opening set as the leather-swathed Fly. Dwarfed by a massive stadium and forced to compete with giant screens and spires so tall that the Federal Aviation Administration required them to have blinking warning lights, Bono still wins every time. He is, quite simply, a joy to behold.
SATELLITE OF LOVE
Before I learned the story behind this performance, I assumed all was well in U2town, thanks to the band’s intimate interactions on the B-stage. They are so amiable with each other. Who could have guessed that Adam was missing in action the night before? Even though he was back for the filming of this concert, U2 had real questions about their future that night. For this song, Bono and Edge are on their own to perform with the ethereal face of Lou Reed, and Bono’s delicate falsetto turns Satellite of Love into a lullaby. When Lou joins them, the two watch the flickering godfather of punk on the overhead screens reverently. Edge is standing, all cheekbones, arms, and blue shadows, and Bono is sitting. The conjoined freckles under his left eye are especially distinct throughout the show, and they create a sort of Irish teardrop tattoo that presumably commemorates the deaths of millions of fans because of, my god, that 33 year-old face of his.
RUNNING TO STAND STILL
This song features a chilling performance by Bono as an unnamed and vaguely militaristic persona. As the verses progress, he rolls up his sleeve, mimics the actions of a heroin addict, and ultimately pretends to spike a needle into his arm as Larry Mullen hits his snare drum to devastating effect. Clouds of yellow and blue smoke surround Bono, who sings a series of hallelujahs so ecstatically that it changed the way I think about the word. You’ll never confuse the cheap videotape aesthetic of Sydney with the lush cinematography of Rattle and Hum. Skin tones seem flat and almost colorized, especially when the band is seen from a distance. Decades have passed since the release of this concert, and over the years the footage of these men in their prime has become increasingly precious to me. I don’t want to look at anything but them. Long shots seem squandered. I wish U2 were as lovingly photographed then as they are now. This tour deserved better. It’s like a Leonardo drawing on the back of a parking ticket or a Rodin made out of used chewing gum. Spectacular, yes, but why couldn’t they have used better materials?
DADDY’S GONNA PAY FOR YOUR CRASHED CAR
In the years before the internet made concert videos available to the world at the conclusion of any given show, fans relied upon MTV news or (extra pathetically) blurbs in music magazines to have some idea of what their favorite band was up to. I knew that during the encores, Bono made prank calls dressed up as some kind of devil guy similar to whatever he was trying to be in the Lemon video. But that was about it. Nothing could have prepared me for the final five songs of this concert. His MacPhisto character is the Las Vegas future of The Fly, and we first see him primping in a lurid red and gold-encrusted dressing room. Similarly festooned in red and gold, including devil horns, he sings to his pasty reflection in a mirror with a voice that is Bono But Not Bono. Then he addresses the viewer: “Daddy gives you…[perverse leer, sustained eye contact] as much as you can take.” It is still completely unbelievable. Who knew Bono had this in him?
WITH OR WITHOUT YOU
The catwalk camera, with whom our hero has performed a rather slutty courtship throughout the show, becomes the perfect visual foil for Mr. MacPhisto. He sings to it, his frigid mistress, while ignoring the clingy crowd of little people surrounding him. In doing so, Bono adds a new layer of meaning to U2’s first number one single. On a personal note, as a painter I am forever bewitched by the combination of red, yellow, blue, black, and white, and visually this song has it all. Bono’s eyes are a color so singular that in my collection of paint tubes, one is reserved especially for them (Old Holland Cyan Blue 247).
LOVE IS BLINDNESS
As the encore progresses, Bono’s white MacPhisto guise slowly melts away. A gentle breeze cuts through the gloaming that surrounds MacPhisto/Bono, and the “don’t go” vibe emanating from 47,500 Australians is palpable. Edge’s El Greco-like fingers--lit with a gorgeous array of rainbow colors--accompany Bono as he sings and dances with that girl, that awesome girl at the end of this dark song. He drags her hand down his face, revealing human skin.
CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE
Much later Bono admitted that the Adam situation caused him to wonder if this would be U2’s last concert ever, and that must be why the songs in this encore are so punishingly emotional. His impressive vocal range is on full display here, and it begins with a baritone nod to Elvis. It shifts to his familiar tenor (he looks truly mournful right before the bridge), and then it ramps up to a crystalline falsetto. The audience seems to hold its collective breath, as if they know they are witnessing something special and rare. And they are. Bono’s interpretation of the final line is the vocal equivalent of landing a quadruple Axel. And then it’s over. It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. It’s very simple.