Bono Predicts Bono And U2 Will Be Huge In 2009

Not content to simply die or accept the fact that he is the outspoken, moronic leader of the (self-anointed) “biggest band in the world,” Bono has predicted that for he and his band U2, “2009 will be our year.” I guess every year leading up to this one has been a real struggle for Bono and his band to receive any press — except, you know, all those articles about the epic failure of (PRODUCT)RED and the parody websites it inspired. Hopefully Mr. Paul Hewson (a man of very short stature, which is reportedly what drives his stupid loudmouthed antics) will make more than a few headlines in ’09, because we all know how impossible it is for me to find blog-worthy subjects. There’s Bono, Baby Boomers, and…um…beer?

The Daily Record reported recently that “U2 put their latest album on hold because they want ’2009 to be their year’”. Production of the album (which was being recorded in the south of France, ooh la la!) has been delayed, and Bono’s justification is that “We’ve hit a rich songwriting vein. It gets a bit dark down here but looks like we’ve found diamonds not coal.” His way of speaking is so painful to read. What the hell is he blathering on about? It gets dark early in the south of France? If U2 has yet to even write a song as precious as lead before, are we to expect a piece of music that is half-way decent in the near future? Like maybe a song where the instrumentation isn’t completely obliterated by the voluminous caterwaul of the band’s singer boastfully delivering lines such as “1, 2, 3, 14!” in foreign tongues?

Aside: War is the single most embarrassing record in my collection. I have never (and will not ever) own a second U2 album. It’s just bad.

Bono continues his retard-speak with a treasure trove of non-sequiturs and minced expressions. His turns of phrase continue to baffle. “Why come up above ground now if there’s more priceless stuff to be found? It’s been maddening…there have been injuries and recoveries, no babies born that I know of, but this one is nearly ready for the new year of 2009.” Really? Injuries and recoveries? Did The Edge nick himself on a blade splicing tape? What the hell does he mean “No babies born?” Is that a reference to the story about the married frontman was caught partying in St. Tropez with a pair of teenage girls? Whatever the hell he thinks he means, it remains patently ridiculous.

Bono is wasting no time asserting himself as a the world’s most rockin’ working-class heroic figure. Jack just e-mailed me last night an editorial Bono penned for the New York Times, the same immensely relevant newspaper which recently claimed mustaches were making a comeback. If you thought his blurbs about U2 were absurd, I ask that you kindly try to read his entire editorial without tossing your computer down a flight of stairs. He writes of New Year’s Eve revelry, his own “hole-in-the-wall” wine cellar, and a painting he was given by Frank Sinatra.

Sinatra, by the way, is quoted by Bono as not-so-subtly calling the ear-piereced singer a fag. Does Bono care? Of course not. He’s Bono. He’s above taking criticism. Even if he looks like a stupid fag with his bug-eye sunglasses and his cowboy hats and his pierced ears. It’s rock-n-roll, man!

The best quote from the editorial, bar none, is when Bono asserts, “Singers, more than other musicians, depend on what they know — as opposed to what they don’t want to know about the world. While there is a danger in this — the loss of naïveté, for instance, which holds its own certain power — interpretive skills generally gain in the course of a life well abused.” That is to say, singers are the most important members of bands and that is that. No one else is as tortured, no one else can use life experiences to inspire what they write or play, and no one else possesses the skills necessary to interpret the world around them and transform it into music. At this point, I’m prepared to say that Bono cannot possibly grow to be a bigger piece of shit. He has reached the maximum potential for shittiness.

Go tell Steve Reich or Dag Rosenqvist or John Cage or Iannis Xenakis that they are all worse than Bono because they are do not provide an omniscient musical voice like he does.

Luckily, a more famous blogger than I has already called Bono out for his journalistic acumen.

Should he continue to write for the Times, you can guarantee I will be here to massacre the Napoleonic Irishman’s every thought, record his seemingly endless list of flaws, and — most assuredly — continue my campaign for Bono to be awarded the “biggest piece of shit ever” prize for the hitting the trifecta for douchiest public persona, pointless contributions to society, and most-irksome sophomoric prose.

Bill Fay – Methane River
Ativin – Stations
OP8 – Round And Round
A Tribe Called Quest – Steve Biko (Stir It Up)