U2 Explains My World, Part 2

The Fly
Falling. The Fly picks up where So Cruel left off, with a deeper affection and appreciation replacing the original infatuation, and the new love replacing the old ("They say the sun is sometimes eclipsed by the moon / You know I don't see you when she walks in the room"). Some interesting thoughts about how romantic failures and successes are relatively alike to artists in that they are both inspiration ("Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief / All kill their inspiration and sing about their grief"). The main image, of course, is the metaphor of relationships as shooting stars, burning bright and inevitably falling into darkness ("Love / we shine like a burning star / we're falling from the sky"), and yet, even knowing this, the singer is powerless to prevent it; it is questionable whether or not he would even if he could. Perhaps all relationships are doomed to failure eventually, but that does not mean we shouldn't ever try. Indeed, it is the trying that is most beautiful and admirable about humanity.

Mysterious Ways
U2's version of She's Got a Way. Who can truly say what it is about people that attracts us to them? To be sure, there are any number of characteristics that people find attractive that they can all reel off as the things they look for. But when it comes right down to it, there is one extra thing that most (if not all) people look for, that undefinable spark, similar to the "it" factor that Hollywood stars have which separates them from people who are good, great or even brilliant actors (Tom Cruise is a star. Kevin Kline is a brilliant actor). There is an element of redemption and self-validation which people find in relationships, even knowing that they shouldn't, that such things are ephemeral and ultimately self-destructive ("She's the wave / she turns the tide / she sees the man inside the child"). Perhaps it isn't even so much that, it's revelling in the feeling of rediscovery, of being found again by someone you really wanted to find you, someone you were hoping could and would find you.

Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World
Ever experience one of those magical days with someone that never seems to end, where the two of you walk and talk and sit in silence and it just goes on and on; you finally say goodbye, the sun is out and you feel drained and elated, happy and fulfilled? That is what this song captures. It also happens to be the source of one of the best lyrics about women ever ("A woman needs a man / like a fish needs a bicycle"). Note there's no corresponding lyric about how badly a man needs a woman. There is, I think, an incredible respect for women layered into this song, a sense that the woman has it all together and the man is playing catchup ("I'm gonna run to you / run to you / run to you / woman be still"). I don't know that I would go that far; women are not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. But I have an immense respect and love for women, who put up with so many extra societal pressures that men will never have to deal with and will never really be able to understand.

Ultraviolet (Light My Way)
Expanding on the redemptive power of relationships touched on in The Fly ("Sometimes I feel like I don't know / Sometimes I feel like checkin out / I wanna get it wrong / can't always be strong / and love it won't be long"). The best relationships are ones of mutual support, where love is given and received freely. And it is difficult, when both people have have been hurt in the past, to be able to find that, to find an unselfish, caring relationship ("You bury your treasure / where it can't be found / But your love is like a secret / that's been passed around / There is a silence / that comes to a house / where no-one can sleep / I guess that's the price of love / I know it's not cheap"). Building a mutual relationship is difficult, it is possibly the most difficult endeavor that people can embark upon, because it never ends. Businesses can be sold, careers can be brought to a conclusion, children can grow old and become independent, but your partner will require a new reaffirmation from you every morning, every evening and 100 times in between. And I don't say that to mean they literally will require it of you; rather, it is the relationship itself which requires that level of commitment. The power of a mutual relationship (lacking the unequal distribution of power which characterizes many or most relationships) comes at a heavy price; you will sacrifice your pride, your dignity and your self-control. But you can gain more than you ever thought possible.

Acrobat
Interestingly enough, Acrobat begins to bring us back where we started this album. It's about what happens when the first blush of infatuation begins to fade, when things start faltering ("When I first met you girl / you had fire in your soul / what happened; your face of melting snow"). In most relationships, the first hurdles are big ones, because they'll set the tone for how the rest of the relationship will go. When things get difficult, it is tempting (for me, at least) to try even harder to fix them, to make things right ("I must be / an acrobat / to talk like this / and act like that"). But there are also some things you can't fix, no matter how hard you try. People don't need saving, they don't need fixing; people are beautiful and terrible precisely because they are broken; we are all broken, and making our way as best as we can.

Love is Blindness
So we've gone a whole album talking about relationships and somehow have avoided any specific paens on the nature of love itself. Bam! Love is blindness, yes, but not simply physical blindness; love is also emotional and mental blindness. It has to be, when all your past relationships have ended in failure, in order for you to believe that this, this one is more real, is different, will be different because you will make it so. Are we ever right? I like to think sometimes, people do manage it, but I can't honestly say.

What originally started me writing this was noticing how so many of the songs seemed to speak to me, wondering what sort of unconscious effect listening to the album during those years might have had. What sort of a person might I be if I'd grown up listening to The Clash or Songs of Leonard Cohen instead? Is that why people identify so strongly with music, use it to define themselves and even use it to rule out potential mates? Is that last part even true; if someone was absolutely perfect but liked some godawful music, would you tell them to hit the road? Or is a similar taste in music contingent to being considered perfect?

Probably the latter. Perhaps the reason why music is so intrinsic to people's lives is because they make themselves resemble the music they love as children, they shape themselves to fit the longing strains and crashing choruses which give meaning to otherwise difficult and non-soundtracked lives.