In 1988, I read a biography of U2 by Eamonn Dunphy that I thought was pretty amazing. I was 15 and completely in love with the band, and this biography (which was authorized) allowed us into the childhood homes, introduced me to the Virgin Prunes and Gavin Friday, both for whom I now have boundless love, and carried us through to the Joshua Tree years. And then I didn't read another biography. Late last year when it was revealed the topless man Larry is embracing on the cover of the new album was actually his 18-year-old son Elvis, I immediately thought, Holy crap, Larry has a kid? And he's 18?! (Turns out, he has THREE.) And that thought was followed by: I really need to find an updated biography of U2. And then, like magic, this book was released only days later.
I bought it earlier this month, and immediately began reading it. And it begins with a dull, lifeless introduction that it was clear some editor at St. Martin's asked for, wherein the author lays out the book like he's opening some academic thesis, along the lines of In this book I will endeavour to do _____, and then will move into ______, and finish with _______, and will conclude that_______.
If I hadn't actually bought the book, I might have stopped reading right there. But instead I kept going. The early years are mostly glossed over — read Neil McCormick's "I Was Bono's Doppelgänger" for a much better account of those years, and I still recommend Dunphy's book for the early years and discussion of Lipton Village. And I bristled when he misused the word "literally" more than once, as in, "they literally blew the roof off the place." No, no they didn't. Interestingly, even the interview subjects misuse the word, which made me start to suspect that perhaps these transcriptions weren't 100% accurate.
And then it started to get better. For about a minute. I've never quite understood the Goodreads function of allowing readers to comment on a book as they're reading it, until now. My perceptions of this book changed, and it was one-star, three-stars, two-stars, and no-stars depending on where I was in the book. The best part of the book is where he has an extended explanation of LiveAid and BandAid, Bob Geldof's efforts to raise money for the starving children of Ethiopia. Jobling breaks down what actually happened with the aid relief, and how the NGOs took that money over there, which then allowed the government to use it to relocate people to deserted, infertile areas, essentially making the famine last a decade longer than it would have without any aid. According to the author, when told of this, Geldof and Bono reacted with little more than a shrug.
And therein lies the overarching theme of the book: Bono is a dick, U2 is a corporation of greed, and they're all hypocrites. No matter what Bono does in his life, Jobling never commends him, never says, "Hey, when he did this one thing, that was a good thing." There's always an ulterior motive to Bono's actions, or him being an ass, or showing his hypocrisy. Because, unlike Dunphy, he's having to describe almost 40 years of the band, rather than the 12 or so that Dunphy covered, he had to gloss over a lot. And in the end, much of the book is rather boring, because if there's one place you can crucify Bono, it's in his humanitarian efforts and Jobling decides to stop talking about U2 for several dozen pages and just focus on the political side of Bono's humanitarian work. Bono is portrayed as a man in over his head, of being a condescending jerk to heads of state, of walking into boardrooms like he owns the place and espousing a bunch of nonsense that even he doesn't understand.
I mean, I know the book is mistitled "U2: The Definitive Biography," but why would that force Jobling to actually make it about, you know, U2?! The band is shunted off to the side around the time of the Joshua Tree tour, and from that point on all it is is a document of their foibles and fuck-ups. Don't read this if you don't want to know that Bono is very unfaithful to his wife. Or that Larry is an incompetent drummer who, for the past couple of years, has been forming an exit plan and is about to leave the band RIGHT NOW (the band's new tour was announced shortly after the book came out). Or if you don't want to know that Larry and Bono apparently despise each other and spend their time in the nude backstage beating each other up on the shower floor while a naked Edge and Adam try to tear them apart in some weird homoerotic "you have got to be kidding me" scene that seemed to have come out of thin air.
Oh wait, no it didn't, it came from John Jobling's key source, the woman who provides most of the gossip (for yes, that's all this book turns into at the halfway point): Lola Cashman. Now, I didn't know who she was, and in a turn of irresponsible journalism, Jobling doesn't actually reveal who she is until the end of the book, but if you haven't read it, let me tell you now: she was their stylist for the Joshua Tree tour. That much is clear. What he doesn't tell you is that she was embroiled in an angry defamation lawsuit in 2005 with the band and ended up destitute and unemployable as a result.
Yeah. SHE is a worthy, reliable source of intel with absolutely no bones to pick. So this woman — let me remind you, she is the STYLIST of the band — is somehow present at every juncture of the Joshua Tree tour, happens to be IN the showers with the guys while they nakedly roll around on the floor (what the HELL was she doing there?), and was Bono's most trusted confidante. He told her absolutely everything, and she, being an upstanding, all-round good friend, went and wrote a tell-all bio about the band that smeared their reputations and made them very angry. And yet, she blamed the fact that no one would employ her afterwards on Bono defaming her and saying she stole items of clothing, rather than the real reason, which is NO ONE WILL HIRE SOMEONE WHO WILL SPILL ALL THEIR SECRETS.
Now, if Jobling were actually a competent writer or in any way a real journalist, he would know that you should take sources like this with a grain of salt. Instead, he eagerly met with her several times, it would appear, and wrote down everything, saying to himself, Yes, I know she's an angry person hellbent on revenge against the band that she believes destroyed her, but I WILL PRINT ALL HER WORDS AS FACT.
Just look at the back flap of the cover and read his bio to see just how inexperienced a guy this is. He lists as his credits three trade magazines you've never heard of.
Here's the thing: I adored U2 in my youth, and then I loved them, and then I thought they were fine. I don't think their current music lives up to who they once were, but hey, in their mid-20s they wrote one of the greatest albums of all time, and are now the biggest touring band in the world, whether you like their albums or not. They put on an amazing live show, and sure, Bono makes huge missteps all the time in his humanitarian work, but at least he's attempting to use his celebrity for good. There's a lot to be critical of. I was pissed off when I saw them three nights in a row on the Elevation tour, only for Bono to say EXACTLY the same thing during his sermons like they were prepared speeches, and to listen to him yammer on about how we need to get our governments to drop the debt for other nations, after I'd just kicked out $200 per ticket, times three nights. I remember thinking, "Or hey, guys, what about this: you keep $100 of each ticket — which is still exorbitant — and you give the other $100 to a fund to drop the debt of developing nations." And then after telling every country to tax its citizens higher to afford to drop the debt, the band moved their money to an offshore account to avoid paying taxes. If that isn't the lousiest thing the band has done, I don't know what is.
So of course U2 is not above reproach. But when Jobling attacks absolutely everything they do — including, no joke, what underwear they wear — the real problems begin to pale in comparison and the whole book looks like a smear campaign.
I'm not giving this book two stars because I'm a massive U2 fan who thinks he did the band a disservice. I'm giving it two stars because I think most of the book is garbage, but it's saved from being a one-star review for the couple of times Jobling actually writes some credible material, which is rare, but it really is in there if you look hard enough. I'm giving it two stars because it dares to call itself Definitive when it is anything but. I'm giving it two stars because some of the writing is so abysmal it comes off as an illiterate blogger. I'm giving it two stars because it is the WORST index I've ever seen in a book. Come on, St. Martin's, I know your standards have dropped significantly in the past few years in your pop culture department — my husband is reading the Paul Anka bio right now and says the editing is so terrible it's almost unreadable — but in the digital age, a simple search through a pdf will create an index pretty quickly. Alison Stewart, for example, gets about 6 entries in the index even though she's mentioned about 30 times in the book. And other people who should be in the index aren't there at all. I've actually done index work for several books, and this is the shoddiest one I've ever seen. It's useless; you should have left it off and saved the paper. I'm giving it two stars because when he handed in the manuscript, he knew absolutely nothing about the new album, and his publisher didn't actually update it with a couple of paragraphs on the end, which would have been very easy to do right before going to the printer (we do it all the time at our press).
Even now, I'm considering removing one of the stars, but I'll leave it. I can't remember the last time I was so disappointed in a book.