1. A Guilty Pleasure
   
   There's the old saw that "you'll always love best the music that you listened to when you started getting laid." We've all witnessed the bizarre phenomenon that people, as they get older, keep listening to the music of their youth. Your parents, my parents, embarrassed us in front of our friends by listening to "Oldies 107.9", singing along with the Beach Boys while driving us to soccer practice. Oh, the shame! "Please God, don't let this happen to me."
   
   And yet, the vast majority of adults (defined here as people with kids and/or careers) I know are musically retarded. I put myself into this category, too--I'm not able to keep up with the trends, and when I try, I get shot down by the hipsters.
   
   Me: Hey, I got into Bright Eyes recently.
   Bryce: Yeah, I used to get into them. The girls really dig Colin Oberst--he's a hottie.
   
   Do you see what happened? Shot down with the double-barrel critique: "used to get into them" meaning "that's old news" and "he's a hottie" meaning this has become chick-music. I go dark. This new music thing is risky.
   
   But I am compelled to continue my quest because music is the poetry of our day, and it reflects our culture's changing emotions and thoughts about love and self-loathing, relationships and isolation, fear and joy, justice and evil. Great music helps us connect the dots of experience in our own lives--it gives us a narrative that resonates--and new, young bands are the best place to find this creative, artistic energy. They haven't been compromised by the wealth and fame, they don't have houses on every continent, and buy bottles of pinot noir that cost $2000. They are keepin' it real, man. The old bands (the worst examples are the guys with cash cow businesses, touring the country to milk the boomers at $100 a pop) are tired and lame, presenting "art" that is so old it is irrelevant. If I hear another boomer friend talk about seeing The Stones on tour, I'll puke. ("But, dude, they really rock out!" Yeah, whatever.)
   
   Alright, understanding my view of music and my desire to stay current, eschewing the music of my youth (I swear, I don't listen to R.E.M. anymore), I've got to come clean: I still really like U2, God help me. I know I'm not supposed to like them. (1) They are popular (insert laugh here at this understatement); (2) they are old; (3) they are shameless rock crusaders who hit you over the head with their message. But still I love them. As for the 3 reasons above:
   
   1. Yes, they are the most popular band on the planet and have been for some time. There's no defense except that sometimes good art is popular.
   
   2. Their music has matured as they've grown up. You can feel the differences in the albums; they tell new stories connected to an evolving consciousness, experiencing love and loss, pain and joy, anger and mercy--not as a teenager, but as an aging adult (which kinda speaks to me). This is brought out in a great series of podcasts with Rolling Stone Mag.
   
   3. Perhaps it's just that I'm a shameless crusader type who believes we can and should fix the world, but I find this rock star inspirational. Oh God, I can't believe I typed that. Let me explain: the way he is reframing the African crisis is incredible. On a panel discussion with big wigs such as Bill Clinton, he said, a bit frustrated, "I'd like to change the way we talk about Africa. It's not a policy issue, it's an emergency. 3,000 kids dying each day due to malaria, a disease we can easily treat, is an emergency." I love that moral clarity, that sense of right and wrong. He's urging guys like Jeffrey Sachs to write The End of Poverty, a thoroughly enjoyable read about possibilities for our lifetime (feel free to skip the first couple of chapters--they are a bit elementary). He's collecting pop-culture heavy weights (e.g. Brangolina) and presidents under the same banner. James Traub of the NYTimes called him "The Statesman," in a great article earlier this year. His work with the Gates Foundation is described in a New Yorker piece (also available via podcast that I can no longer find) called What Money Can Buy. What's not to love about that?

Yes, he's a ranting pop star. Yes, he's rich and old and not on the cutting edge of the indie scene. But the band has grown up without growing old, and that works for me. So, there's my confession, my "here I stand, God help me" against the hipsters.

Oh, yeah, I saw this quote today which is what prompted this rather long post.

"The less you know, the more you believe."
--Bono