Thursday, December 31, 2009

U2 tour tops annual rankings in North America

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) – U2 may have suffered disappointing sales for their new album, but the Irish rockers were easily the most popular draw on the North American concert circuit this year, according to data issued on Wednesday.

The band sold $123 million worth of tickets to its stadium tour, while Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band came in second with $94.5 million, said trade publication Pollstar.

Among all-time tours, the U2 trek ranks at No. 5, Pollstar said. The Rolling Stones hold the record with $162 million from their 2005 outing. U2's 2005 tour is No. 3 on the all-time list with $138.9 million.

Pollstar editor Gary Bongiovanni said the overall concert business bucked the recession, mirroring a similar phenomenon at movie theaters. He said most people go to only one or two shows a year, and are willing to pay a premium for good seats.

U2 hit the road to promote its latest album, "No Line on the Horizon," which failed to generate any hit singles and sold a relatively modest 1.06 million copies in the United States, according to Nielsen SoundScan.

Pollstar said the band played to 1.3 million people at 20 shows on the North American leg of its world tour, and charged an average of $93.77. The average price on the band's 2003 tour, when it played 78 shows, was actually higher at $97.

Piano men Elton John and Billy Joel's latest co-headlining stint came in at No. 3 in 2009 with $88 million, followed by rehabbed pop princess Britney Spears at No. 4 with $82.5 million, and hard-rockers AC/DC at No. 5 with $77.9 million.

Country star Kenny Chesney made the top 10 for the sixth consecutive year, landing at No. 6 in 2009 with $71.1 million.

As in years past, veteran rockers dominated the rankings, in part because they are able to charge more than developing acts. But the fresh-faced Jonas Brothers made No. 7 after selling $69.8 million in tickets to their young fans.

Fellow Disney star Miley Cyrus was No. 13 with $45 million, and country-pop starlet Taylor Swift was No. 35 with $25.5 million. Bongiovanni said he expected Swift to make the top 10 next year on the heels of a three-month North American tour that kicks off on March 4.

The top 10 was rounded out by the Dave Matthews Band at No. 8 with $56.9 million, Fleetwood Mac at No. 9 with $54.5 million, and Metallica at No. 10 with $53.4 million.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Full Text: Bono's Introduction to Robert Hilburn's New Book

Corn Flakes with John Lennon is out now

@U2, October 14, 2009
By: Bono

Bono has written the introduction to Corn Flakes with John Lennon, a new book of memoirs from Robert Hilburn, the longtime pop music critic for the Los Angeles Times. The book is out now (Amazon.com) and @U2 is pleased to have permission to reprint Bono's introduction in its entirety.

Introduction
By Bono


I'm not sure Robert Hilburn exists. I know he is not human. He might be a ministering angel or some kind of specter ... he is certainly an enigma. Bob doesn't drink or smoke, and his quiet conversation is the antithesis of the noisy, messy rock 'n' roll music he loves. He is the silent man on the other side of the "wall of sound." His is the clarity that the chaos of creativity is always attracted to.

His column in the Los Angeles Times put the fear of God into rebels of the lowest common denominator, but encouraged faith from wild iconoclasts. High priests of schlock 'n' roll withered rather than weathered the quietest storm that ever blew into town. Without ever being pious or elitist, he has the Levitical/Jesuitical energy of a keeper of the flame. So many of the artists he loved and detailed were consumed by the fire. It reinforced in Bob a reverence for the life force in rock—its truth-telling vitality rather than its corny mythologies, death-cult shtick, or tragic hipness.

This book documents his love of performers in country, rock, and pop and early hustles of Elvis and the Colonel; his love of words, with writings about Leonard Cohen, Hank Williams, Kris Kristofferson, and Bob Dylan; and his love of the chemistry set that is band membership, from the Beatles to U2 to Nirvana. All documented by his gracious person and unforgiving prose.

As a writer, his words have an economical sense and frugality that put him across the street from other great commentators and critics of the rock era, like Greil Marcus with his prosaic and professorial tone and the late Lester Bangs's beat-up poetry. For three decades at the Times, Bob steadily deciphered the shouts and hollers, whispers and miasma of a music business that rose and fell over the period he sat at his desk.

Success loves simplicity. Simplicity in our business, or indeed any business (particularly writing), is having an ear for the top-line melody ... harmony is critical ... counterpoint, rhythm, etc., but having an ear for the top-line melody is knowing the real event that's taking place in a room, the real point that's being made—the "what's actually going down" as opposed to the melodrama of media. That means that if you didn't have time to fully immerse yourself in the convulsive, controversial world of Public Enemy or N.W.A in the late '80s, Bob Hilburn could be trusted with dispatches from the front line. If you wanted to know what domestic life was like for Mr. and Mrs. Cobain, Bob would not be distracted from good housekeeping.

Intellectually and intuitively rigorous, Bob will let himself go - but to a sound, not to a "scene." The sound has to be articulate, even if the words are not, which might explain his early support for our not-so-humble combo from the north side of Dublin. He was always looking for subject matter that was fresh and patiently observed what Van Morrison described as "inarticulate speech of the heart." U2 was shambolic and erratic, but he seemed to see the "what might be" in the "what was."

Bob's role as critic was to encourage suspension of disbelief not just in the audience, but in the artist as well. That is an environment in which music grows. He made us better.

Many critics do bands the favor of contextualizing their work, and Bob certainly did that. But there was always the sense from him that too much reverence for the past can shut the future up. Though twice the age of some of his discoveries, he was a diviner of new talent, watchful for a through-line with what had come before, but scouting for surprises, whether it was Chuck D or John Lydon, John Prine or Axl Rose. He made the present porous, he argued the case for what was about to happen. I think the biggest kick for Bob was sitting on Planet Rock and watching the new wave breaking. He figured every generation had a resonant frequency and that his job was to be a tuning fork. Not remotely interested in passing trends, it was the purity of each pitch he was listening for — i.e., would it last? That ear again. Was it worth the fuss? We were not, at that time, but his words made us readier.

U2 arrived on the cover of the calendar section of the LA Times in March 1981, and it changed our fate. We have never played a concert in Los Angeles that did not sell out since then. The first time we met, Bob bought me an ice cream and kept his smile to himself as I tried so hard to explain U2's flavor-of-the-month status as a taste that would endure. When we hit a peak at the Los Angeles Coliseum, he explained our appeal in one easy sentence: "At a Rolling Stones concert," he said, "you feel good about who you are despite where you've been. At a Bruce Springsteen or a U2 show, you feel good about the person next to you."

All three artists would love that sentence to be true.

His admonishments were just as deft. On one occasion, high on the possibilities of U2's success and owning up to an array of nonmusical ambitions, I was chastened by his swift reminder of the many Beatles or Cole Porter songs I knew, followed by the question, how many of our songs did I think would be remembered after our scene had died down?

Bob Hilburn is too modest to talk much about himself. Not suffering from that problem, I got as close as you can get to a glimpse of him by forcing him to answer some of my questions in exchange for answering his. I was hungry to know what he knew and thought about luminous beings like Bob Dylan and characters like John Lennon, who had survived inhuman talent with their humanity. He would open up about his favorites, but as soon as I asked about his own life, he would head back to his office. When I asked repeatedly about his family, he rarely offered up any contradiction to the thought that they too might not exist. He was probably teaching me Modesty. I might have missed it.

What's remarkable about the book you hold in your hand is that for the first time he reveals himself as well as his subjects ... well, a little. Unlocking the puzzle of his own beginnings in music, he tells the story of his uncle Bill who was made an outsider by epilepsy and how tightly he held on to the recordings of Hank Williams. He reveals how he managed to hustle Elvis Presley into not calling him sir, and how Bruce Springsteen's honesty raised the standard for him and everyone. He sees the story of rock through the lens of his years and wonders a few times if he, and it, has peaked. He returns again and again to the same characters, hoping the answer will be no in both cases.

He is strangely, for a man who lives in the epicenter of it, almost immune to fame.

He can't help but laugh at a rendezvous of Michael Jackson and Prince.

With Bob Dylan, he treasures the moments that are unmasked, like Bob Dylan talking him through his conversion to Christianity or going for a coffee completely unrecognized at a truck stop in Chicago; and discovering John Lennon hiding chocolate from Yoko, who John constantly refers to as "Mother."

Maybe Bob Hilburn is a figment of our imagination, but the book exists. When John Lennon, in "I Am the Walrus," sings about "sitting on a corn flake waiting for the van to come," most folks picture a drug dealer or overlord. No one thinks of Robert Hilburn as the driver of the van. John didn't know Bob Hilburn when he wrote the song. After reading this book, you will think of no one else.

March 2009

Reprinted from Corn Flakes with John Lennon by Robert Hilburn (c) 2009 by Robert Hilburn. Permission granted by Rodale, Inc.

Art of the Highest Order: Robert Hilburn Reflects on U2

Robert Hilburn was an influential music editor and critic for the Los Angeles Times from 1970-2005. He left the newspaper to write books -- the first of which is the newly released Corn Flakes with John Lennon And Other Tales from a Rock N' Roll Life.

He recently spoke with @U2's Tassoula Kokkoris via e-mail about the book and his time with U2.

TK: Bono wrote a wonderful introduction for you in this book. Tell me about how he was chosen for the job.

RH: I was so touched by what Bono wrote. I asked him to write the introduction because I have probably spent more hours talking to him about music as just about any other artist I've ever written about -- not only hours during interviews but in wonderful "talks" after the formal interviews were over. I also was impressed by how eloquent he was in giving induction speeches for such artists as Bruce Springsteen and Bob Marley at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame dinners.

TK: After seeing U2 perform at the LA Sports Arena on the War tour, you may have saved Bono's life with something you said in your Los Angeles Times review. You wrote, "When you have music as exciting and purposeful as U2, you really don't need a sideshow as well, especially a potentially dangerous one." This was in reference to him climbing the scaffolding at their shows, and following your review, he promptly stopped. As someone who had their life transformed by U2's music, I sincerely thank you for writing that. Furthermore, it seems that Bono has taken your advice to heart over the years. If you could give him one piece of advice right now, what would it be?

RH: That's a great question and I have a funny answer for you. One of the only reasons I felt bold enough to offer suggestions to Bono, both in print and in person, was that I met him so early in his career and he was so much younger than me. So I was often just trying to pass on advice about things I had seen go right or wrong in other artists’ careers. But then there was a point a few years ago when I did a short interview with him in Los Angeles. It was after the G8 concerts, which were designed to encourage wealthy nations to excuse the debts of third world countries. I had been so impressed by what he did in helping spearhead that cause and with the way he and the band had tried to reach out and comfort the nation in U2's post-9/11 tour. As he walked away that day, I looked at him and felt humbled. I realized how much he had grown since our first meeting in Los Angeles and how he was now leading us all. So, I'm looking to him for answers now. I think I've run out of advice -- other than keep respecting the music. I think "Moment of Surrender" was one of the best things U2 has written -- and a reassuring sign that he and Edge and Adam and Larry do continue to respect the music.

TK: Looking back on their entire catalog, what do you think is U2's strongest album? Why?

RH: I hate to say The Joshua Tree because it was so long ago -- and the band has done so much great work since then. But Joshua Tree was the moment where everything came together for the band -- the kind of explosion of heart and head and spirit that only happens once in a career. The Joshua Tree simply has the most memorable songs. As Bono has said, it truly feels that God is walking through the room when U2 performs "Where the Streets Have No Name," and "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" is as compelling an anthem. At the same time, look at the other great songs -- and the range of emotions involved: "With or Without You" and "Bullet the Blue Sky" and "Running to Stand Still." Those are simply art of the highest order.

TK: Like most critics who interview U2, you seem to have spent the most time with Bono. Were there any memorable moments with the other three band members that you would like to share?

RH: I am very fond of everyone in the band. Edge is soft-spoken, but very smart, and it's good to see him becoming more visible, both in interviews and in such projects as the film It Might Get Loud. Adam has a wonderfully wry sense of humor and an interesting, independent look at the band and its history. Larry couldn't care less about interviews or the whole "celebrity" side of rock, but I enjoy talking to him because he speaks from the heart. What especially impresses me is that each has his own "take" on things. With most bands, the members seem, either consciously or subconsciously, to answer questions in the same way -- almost as if there is a party line. But each member of U2 speaks more independently so that each one adds to your understanding of the band and how it works. One thing I've found interesting being in the studio with U2 on occasion is how it's not Bono -- as many might suspect -- calling the shots. It's very much four people at work. For instance, I've seen Bono be extremely nervous when singing some new lyrics in the studio. At the end, he turns to the others for their thoughts. It's very much a group at work.

TK: The music industry hasn't adapted very gracefully to the advances in technology. Where do you see the future of music shifting both creatively and technologically?

RH: I have no idea where music is going and I have even less idea what rock's role will be in that music. At present in America, rock 'n' roll has become very much a minority sound. There are many great young bands, such as Arcade Fire, but they only speak to a small fraction of the music world because most of the media and audience are caught up in what I'd call the American Idol/Celebrity complex. American Idol may be entertaining television, but it has been horrible for the health of pop music because it is not producing great, revolutionary talents. It is producing very limited, mostly mediocre artists and those artists are dominating the charts. A friend of mine, who is head of one of the most powerful record labels in America, said the music industry comes up with about four "breakthrough" acts a year and, for various reasons, three of those acts are going to be American Idol related because radio plays those acts and media writes about them. If Bruce Springsteen came along today, the executive continued, he doesn't know what he could do with him because there's no window of opportunity for that kind of artist. I worry that he could have said the same thing about U2. Until the mass music audience starts demanding substance and passion and commentary again, pop music -- in terms of mass social impacts -- seems like it is very marginal.

TK: Do you think new bands like U2 have a place in this changing industry?

RH: Obviously U2 still has a place in the changing industry because they reached a mass audience back in the days when the pop music world was open to such artists. But when you say "new bands like U2," the answer may be far different. I'm not sure great young bands can build enough of a pop consensus to reach the level of a U2. I think the White Stripes (or Jack White) is one of the most exciting forces ever in rock and the Stripes (and White) are still, in many ways, an underground band. The same for Arcade Fire and Bright Eyes (Conor Oberst). There is great young talent, but it's not reaching the same mass of people as great bands in earlier eras. I've also been impressed by what I've heard from Muse, Glasvegas and the Avett Brothers, among many.

TK: Are there any bands out there today that have the potential to become the next U2?

RH: I don't know about being the next U2. Coldplay clearly wants to be and they've made remarkable strides in building an audience in this difficult time for rock, but they have to give us a Joshua Tree before we can even begin to talk about them in U2 terms.

TK: Where do you see U2 10 years from now?

RH: I hope they'll be doing great work, and I think No Line on the Horizon is a sign that they will be doing just that. I felt No Line was a difficult album in many ways because the themes and ideas were so complex. It wasn't an easy album to digest, but for those who stuck with it, No Line was an extraordinary series of reflections about life in our times.

TK: Throughout your book, the mentions of U2 are fraught with protective worry over one thing or another. In the early days it was Bono's stage antics, in the height of The Joshua Tree fame and even more recently, it was Bono's activism. Have you ever worried this much about any other band? If so, how? Do you have any present-day worries for U2?

RH: I worried at various times about Bruce Springsteen because he, in many ways, was leading the charge in the 1970s at a time when many people in America had given up on rock heroes. So many of the stars from the 1950s and 1960s had either self-destructed or lost their creativity or lost their values that it was hard for anyone to reignite the fire. But Bruce did it and I was worried whether he would stumble at some point -- and he did lose his way, as I explain in the book. I also worried about Kurt Cobain -- someone I thought might be able to have the kind of social impact of a Springsteen or a U2, but was so fragile. And those worries, sadly, proved to be justified. The only danger I see for U2 -- as I said before -- is losing respect for the music and I can't see that happening. They can be a great band for as long as they want to be.

TK: It seems as if you've written about every major music figure worth profiling. Is there anyone out there that you would still like to talk with? Or anyone who has passed away that you regret not interviewing?

RH: I've really been lucky in talking to and, in many cases, building a relationship with most of the important artists of the last 40 years. I wish Hank Williams had lived long enough for me to talk to him...I also wish Elvis Presley had done interviews and that two of my favorites -- Joni Mitchell and Neil Young -- had done more interviews in the 1970s when they were doing such brilliant work. I never interviewed Jimi Hendrix, so he would be high on my wish list.

TK: You seem to have a special fascination with songwriting. Would you consider writing a book just about that process?

RH: I did a series of seven stories for the Los Angeles Times on songwriting... 5,000-word pieces devoted strictly to the process of songwriting, and I just loved the way it turned out. I did separate pieces on Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Lucinda Williams, Merle Haggard, Ice Cube, U2 and one article devoted to both Jack White and Conor Oberst. I've been thinking about doing a few more artists and putting them into a book -- each one expanded to say 7,500 words.

TK: What's next on your list of projects?

RH: Well, I'm thinking about that songwriting book, but I also have a couple other projects in mind. I hope to start on one of them in January.

© @U2/Kokkoris, 2009.

The Grand Demythologizer: The Gospel and Idolatry