Dear BaE Volume 13: Dark Welsh Soul

Welcome to our little advice column! You really can ask us (almost) anything, but please note: Dear BaE is written by two people who wish to remain anonymous, for entertainment purposes only. Neither Bono nor Edge are involved in any way except as they exist in our tiny little brains. No Bonos or Edges were harmed during the creation of this column. Enjoy!

Fake Edge: Before we get started, Fake Bono and I would like to apologize for our unexplained three month absence from our column.

Fake Bono: Which we love! We love writing this. It’s just...we’re busy men. We celebrated milestone anniversaries for two of our albums this fall. Ehm, Larry had a birthday. The fans are going wild over a U2 t-shirt that doesn’t have me on it. Oh: I’m in a movie!

Fake Edge: Yes, you are a movie star once again.

Fake Bono: You know how when a movie has a lot of stars, but in the opening credits and on the poster they save the biggest one for last? “Matthew McConaughey, Reese Witherspoon, Scarlett Johansson, et cetera, et cetera, more names, more names…”

Fake Edge: Yes. 

Fake Bono: Then the last one gets an “and” next to their name as a sort of honorarium?

Fake Edge: I think we’ve all seen that.

Fake Bono: Okay, well try this on for size: “And Bono.” I’m the “and” star of Sing 2, The Edge!

Fake Edge: Congratulations.

Fake Bono: And my kids are telling me that you recently made an impressive cameo as well?

Fake Edge: Once again I appeared on the animated puberty gross-out series Big Mouth as a dick. 

Fake Bono: Superb!

Fake Edge: [consults notes] This is not a question for us, but an anonymous member of the “U2fam” passed the following tweet along, and I think they want our reaction.

Fake Bono: Let me see.

 

My kind of shirt. :)

@U2ThreeChords

Fake Bono: Christ almighty, how did that throwaway quip escape the cutting room floor? 

Fake Edge: You never know what our fans will embrace.

Fake Bono: I meant it as a joke. Sort of!

Fake Edge: People weren’t ready for irony in 1988. They were barely ready for it in 1991. One might question if they’re ready for it now.

Fake Bono: From the bottom of my heart, Edge, I would like to apologize for diminishing the magic of your guitar artistry.

Fake Edge: I mean, I like the blues. I have respect for the blues.

Fake Bono: But you don’t play the blues. What you play is indescribable. What you play is...weird sparkly shit. Which is what I should have said at this exact moment in time.

Fake Edge: You know? I kind of love that.

Fake Bono: I’M MAKING A SHIRT.


Dear Fake B & E, 

Does Edge actually possess a "dark Welsh soul" as one of the books about U2 describes? Also, can he speak some Welsh for those who might be into that kind of thing *ahem*?

Amy Beth

Fort Lee, NJ

 

Fake Edge: Oh yes, Amy Beth. I’m dark. And Welsh. I’m as dark and Welsh as a stormy December night in Abergwyngregyn. 

Fake Bono: Absolute bollix. You are—and I don’t say this lightly—possibly the least dark person I’ve ever known.

Fake Edge: You’re mistaken. I’m dark. I’m as dark, dense, and tangled as the forest of Ffestiniog.

Fake Bono: I don’t think the state of your chest hair counts as darkness, The Edge. 

Fake Edge: Look you, boyo—

Fake Bono: Oh, you’ve got him doing Pidgin Welsh, Amy Beth!

Fake Edge: Look, while you were doing the Locomotion with Kylie Minogue—

Fake Bono: I beg your pardon!

Fake Edge: —I was huddled up underneath my house, listening to Einstürzende Neubauten and baying at the moon like a veritable gwyllgi.

Fake Bono: I mean, the part about Einstürzende Neubauten is true, anyway.

Fake Edge: Okay. While it happens to be the case that I was born in England, moved to Ireland as a wee babe, and have never actually lived in Wales at all, the pull of one’s ancestral land is a powerful thing. And of course the Welsh have much in common with the Irish, such as centuries of colonization by the English, and native languages that are considered impenetrable by English-speaking folk—which is probably not a coincidence.

Fake Bono: Say something in your impenetrable native tongue for Amy Beth, my Oppressed Celtic Brother.

Fake Edge: Dyn bach ydych chi â cheg fawr.

Fake Bono: Hang on whilst I check Google Translate…oh, ffykk off, The Edge.

Fake Edge: Amy Beth, I am not at all fluent in Welsh. If you’d like to hear some real Welsh people absolutely scraping the backs of their throats with their own tongues, check out this brilliant and very dark police drama, which I binged in the early days of the pandemic. (You can also watch in English, because they filmed it twice!) And thank you for thinking about me, cariad.


😻😻😻Dear Mr Fake Bono,

What brand of hairspray do you use? 😂😂😂~🎵

@VassilliaGreen1

Fort Lee, NJ

Fake Bono: Oh, Vassillia. Sweetheart. Unfortunately for you, I’m afraid my hairspray is not commercially available. It’s handmade for me by pioneering Swedish artisans who use weapons-grade polymers I’m not at liberty to discuss. I’ve said too much already. But I simply adore the way it smells. Edge, how would you describe it?

Fake Edge: [inhales] It’s like if a kitten approached me and placed a buttercup in my hand. It’s not really the scent of the buttercup, but it’s the way the buttercup makes me feel…? Does that make sense?

Fake Bono: It makes perfect sense. In my discussions with the Swedish artisans, translating that kitten/buttercup feeling into scent—whilst delivering uncompromising hold, mind you!—that was my top priority.

Fake Edge: I’ll go get it.

Fake Bono: No need!

Fake Edge: I’m getting it. 

Fake Bono: Please keep in mind I share that bathroom with my daughters.

Fake Edge: Your house has 27 bathrooms. [exits]

Fake Bono: ... I hope all of you will enjoy my voice acting debut as Clay Calloway in Illumination’s Sing 2, distributed by Universal Pictures. Come along with Buster Moon and his friends as they attempt to persuade reclusive rock star Clay Calloway to join them for the opening of a new show. What begins as Buster's dream of big-time success soon becomes an emotional reminder of the power of—

Fake Edge: [yelling from bathroom] Göt2b Glued Blasting Freeze Spray: Screaming Hold For Hair, 12 ounces, $6.99!

Fake Bono: [yelling] But damned if it doesn’t smell like the buttercup thing, right?

Fake Edge: ... [yelling] It does!

Fake Bono: And that’s another column for the shredder, U2 fans—you superb little tin of butter cookies! As we enter the holiday season, which has been a bit of a difficult time these last couple of years, let’s try to summon up that “defiant joy” I’m always banging on about. As yer woman Maureen Killoran says, “Believe in your vision. Follow your dreams. And know always that, when you return to us, here you will find the hands of friends.” We love you!


Do you have a burning question for Fake Bono and Fake Edge? Follow them on Twitter (@DearBAEatu2) and ask! They are capable of answering questions about U2, questions that are related to U2, and questions that have nothing to do with U2 at all.

Note: Fake Bono and Fake Edge are not real. They are two people pretending to be them. They cannot put you in touch with U2. They cannot help you with your music career, and they have no plans to come to Brazil anytime soon.

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Dear BaE Volume 12: Masterpiece