As one of my favorite bands of all time, U2 has had a song in my countdowns before. It’s inevitable that multiple songs from their endless catalog should end up on my lists, especially considering this band was such a huge part of my eighties and early nineties experiences. Perhaps I’ve talked about the life-changing experience that was my first time seeing U2 at the Hartford Civic Center (not shockingly, I remember the date - May 9, 1987) in my previous entries about one of their songs, but in the context of this diary the essence of that moment should find its home again. It was the closest I’d ever felt to the existence of a god and community and love. I was at the concert with my brother Mike and Jan and Jayne and Kenny, and these people were my family, the walls of my house. I was also amongst a crowd of humans from everywhere who swayed and sung and cried to the rattle and hum of the Irish rock phenomenon. As we exited the venue. Zombie-like, it was full-on lighters lit as we all were still singing, 'How long to sing this song?' Today’s two particular U2 songs couldn’t be further away in style and feel from each other, but they are each as meaningful and powerful to me and my whole life. The first is from my time peeking out through the slats on the closet door way back in my sophomore year of college, when longing for boys across the campus or in the dorm was my only course of action AND study; the second is from after the closet door was broken off its hinges, at a time when I was in the throes of self-discovery, learning responsibility and forging lifetime friendships. I give you New Year’s Day, a gritty tale about an ongoing bloody struggle, and One, about disharmony and disappointment and the ramifications of those things.
From the historical writing archive. Original date: October 30, 2018. Recovered from local source material; editorial review is still in progress.