Dear BaE Volume 12: Masterpiece

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!


Dear BaE,

If you could be any vegetable, which would it be and why?

@BrianovichIV

Fort Lee, NJ

Fake Bono: Cucumber.

Fake Edge: Zucchini.

Fake Bono: Extra large cucumber.

Fake Edge: Enormous zucchini.

Fake Bono: [annoyed sigh] Are we doing this?

Fake Edge:  I think I would be...rainbow chard. Because it is highly nutritious yet colorful.

Fake Bono: Yes. You are a veritable superfood, Edge.

Fake Edge: How about you?

Fake Bono: I’d be a radish because radishes are small, spicy, and frankly, they’re completely adorable.


Dear BaE,

Here's a question: which album do you guys consider to be your masterpiece? Unforgettable Fire? Unforgettable Fire or Unforgettable Fire?? I'm going with Unforgettable Fire.

@Michael15702428

Fort Lee, NJ

Fake Edge: Hi Michael. Well, we are certainly pleased that you’ve enjoyed The Unforgettable Fire all these years. To bring our readers up to speed: We recorded The Unforgettable Fire in 1984, having convinced the great Brian Eno to work with our unschooled, guileless, provincial selves. The album marked our transition from straightforward, guitar-based postpunk to a more experimental™ sound that incorporated strings, synths, meandering melodies, and one famously unfinished lyric. We are quite proud of that album and of the courage it took for us to break out of the predictable four-piece rock band mold. That said, the album is 37 years old.

Fake Bono: The album is 37 years old, Michael! If it were a person, it might have a spouse, a couple of kids, a mortgage, a “hang in there” kitten poster in its cubicle, bouts of insomnia, a tendency to stare hollow-eyed into the empty street at night, troublesome heartburn, an inappropriate attraction to the bike messenger who shows up in the lobby every day at 11 o’clock, an urge to get into its hybrid Honda CR-V and just keep driving and driving—

Fake Edge: Bono.

Fake Bono: I’m sorry. What was the question?

Fake Edge: What album do we consider our “masterpiece.”

Fake Bono: Oh. Pop, obviously.

Fake Edge: I agree. Pop.

Fake Bono: Definitely Pop. Also Achtung Baby, Zooropa, and The Innocence and Experience Song Cycles, as I like to call them. Pretty much everything we’ve done from 1991 to the present. Also the stuff we did before that. 

Fake Edge: I too love our early work . Thanks again for your question, Michael.


Dear Fake Bono, 

What did you get Fake Edge for his birthday?

@aaronslarson

Fort Lee, NJ

Fake Bono: Excellent question, Aaron. Surprising this man is difficult but immensely satisfying. Because don’t I nail it every year, my friend?

Fake Edge: Indeed you do, and this year was no exception.

Fake Bono: First, I gave him the gift of my absence. Edge enjoyed a weekend sans the media circus that follows me and therefore him wherever we go. Edge had free reign over the house in Èze, where he and his family and other luminaries indulged in a celebration featuring Kardashian-level pageantry (except the participants possessed actual souls). The man was lavished with love and truly touching gifts. After seeing photos and videos—

Fake Edge: There was a sculpture party, and I danced poolside in a pink wig! We had jumbo lights that looked like planets, and— 

Fake Bono: —I became staggeringly envious. Because my 60th birthday...well, it just kind of came and went, now, didn’t it?

Fake Edge: We still owe you and Adam parties worthy of that milestone. And Larry’s is coming up soon! What should we get him?

Fake Bono: I believe I will once again give the gift of my absence. 

Fake Edge: No, Larry would want you to attend his party. It’s probably just going to be another low-key, backyard vegan barbeque kind of thing.

Fake Bono: I’m sure he’ll expect us to bring our own lawn chairs again. But back to my second gift, Aaron. I gave Edge...chapter seven of my autobiography.

Fake Edge: I remain stunned.

Fake Bono: Yes, chapter seven contains some 35,000 words devoted solely to my unique relationship with The Edge, including numerous anecdotes that have remained classified for decades. 

Fake Edge: with good reason

Fake Bono: Oh? Look, Edge, if anything I wrote makes you uncomfortable, I fully encourage you to whip out your red pen and write notes in the margins.

Fake Edge: I mean, I’m not sure how long this book will be, but…35,000 words is a lot. I’m deeply touched by this loving tribute, but I believe your editor may want to pare it down.

Fake Bono: Editor, shmeditor. And the section about Tenerife stays. Parts one and two.

Fake Edge: I just don’t know, Bono.

Fake Bono: I’m sorry, but I really must put my foot down. Happy birthday, Edge!


Dear BaE,

Do either of you have any compulsions such as needing all bills in your wallet, clothes in your closet or cans in your cupboard to face the same direction?

@Zoe2u

Fort Lee, NJ

Fake Edge: [cough]

Fake Bono: No.

Fake Edge: Yes.

Fake Bono: Tell Zoe about your compulsions, Edge.

Fake Edge: I said “yes;” that should cover it.

Fake Bono: So you don’t want Zoe to know about how you sort plectrums—

Fake Edge: Plectra.

Fake Bono: —how you sort plectra not only by color, but also by thickness?

Fake Edge: I guess I would be willing to tell her. If it was something I actually did.

Fake Bono: Okay, okay. How should we close out this edition of DearBaE, then?

Fake Edge: I would like to close it by sharing this review of Pop, published in 2017, and entitled “Defending The Indefensible: A Look Back At U2’s Masterpiece, Pop,” by Ardsley P. Schmedway.  Ahem:

U2’s most maligned and misunderstood album, 1997’s Pop, might best be summed up with a line Bono cribbed from William Butler Yeats, “Still looking for the face I had before the world was made.” And did Bono and his companions The Edge, Adam Clayton, and Larry Mullen, Jr. ultimately find what they were looking for? Many would say no, but those many would be mistaken. Pop is—simply stated—U2’s masterpiece. Opening with the strenuous 3am eternal bump-and-grind of Discotheque, the album drops you butt-first into the zeitgeist of the shiny pleatherette surfaces of the late 90’s tech-bubble, then makes you do a sunrise crawl of shame through the fin-de-siècle bomb craters and “feel-good” advertising slogans pricked out in fading neon against a backdrop of—

Fake Bono: Oh my. I’m afraid we’ll have to leave it there until next time.

Fake Edge: It’s our masterpiece though.

Fake Bono: And that’s another column for the bottom of the birdcage, U2 fans—you elegant arrangement of exotic blooms! I know it feels like we’ve been walking through the valley of the shadow for a long time. But as yer men Rodgers and Hammerstein said, “When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high, and don't be afraid of the dark…You’ll never walk alone.” 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 13: Dark Welsh Soul

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Dear BaE Volume 11: Paul