U2 at Cowboys Stadium, Part 2

After more than sixteen hours of getting up early and waiting in a long line, one that promised and delivered a coveted spot in a hard-to-get-to circle, U2 was still not on stage. But another band was, and I listened through earplugs—all of us did, hoping to preserve our ears for the main event. What, after all, was the point of coming to a U2 concert and having my eardrums blown by the opening act?

Muse was not bad, even through sound barriers, but the venue was stunning. Throughout the show I could not get over this place and this stage. Before this I had only seen Cowboys Stadium from the outside, a Noah's ark designed for outer space. Inside, however, the sheer amount of space contained within its walls made me seem a microscopic speck. And the stage brought a mass to match its host. A giant spider over multitudes of people, the concert stage for the 360 Tour covered more than half of the stadium floor. We found out from stagehands that transporting it requires 99 eighteen-wheelers and setting it up takes four days. It was certainly the guest of honor, a platform to fit the stature of its creators.

But this event was about a band, not a building, and U2 soon took the stage. As long as the wait had been—nearly 17 hours from the time I woke up—seeing them still felt surreal. This band that I had listened to for so long and seen on TV so often was only yards away. At one point, Bono was right above me on a bridge, at another he was five feet away. Clearly, everyone else felt the same way. The band's appearance turned the pit into a photo shoot. Whenever a band-member came near the outer part of the stage, hundreds of camera-phones sprang up like weeds. If the inner circle was a garden, Bono was definitely its rain.

The music began, and the earplugs came out. Now, deafness was worth the risk. At least my eardrums would die happily. The band opened with three songs off the new album, No Line on the Horizon. They would go on to play three more No Line songs, and almost all of them sounded underwhelming to me: they lacked the focus needed to command such a vast sound-space

But they did not linger there for long. "Mysterious Ways" came fourth and brought a bonus with it. To end the song, Bono sang the chorus of the Beatles' "Blackbird." This adding-on occurred multiple times throughout the night, and produced my favorite moments of the concert. Not only was "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" the clearest song of the night, and my favorite, but also Bono ended it with "Stand By Me" by the Righteous Brothers. As he sang the chorus, he held out his microphone to the crowd, and over 70,000 voices sang in unison. Later in the night, another surprise would top this one. Bono sang "Amazing Grace" as an intro to "Where the Streets Have No Name." For a moment, a football stadium felt like a cathedral.

Two hours and two encores later, our evening would come to a close. To be fair, there were some things I disliked about the show. The two videos that played while we waited for encores were irritating. Then there was the steering wheel microphone that Bono used as a rope swing. As impressive as his physical abilities were, the concert had reached its climax, and this device was a distraction. In addition, songs that I love were passed up. I greatly missed not hearing "Bad" and "Pride," and would love to have heard their thundering rendition of the Beatles' "Helter Skelter," but that one will probably never happen. When set lists come from three decades of music, some disappointment is inevitable.

Regardless of this nitpicking, I will never forget this concert. By the time I made it to bed, I had been awake for 21 and a half hours, had spent most of the day in a long line, and had to struggle in order to stay where I had spent all day trying to get. Though I can't say I would turn around and do it all over again, I know that I sensed something larger than myself. Calling it sacred would not be the right word, but I can still hear tens of thousands singing in unison. I can still hear the sound of "Amazing Grace." Grace has a way of speaking through common things, like music.




Set List: Cowboys Stadium (10/12)

Breathe

Get on Your Boots

Magnificent 

Mysterious Ways

Beautiful Day

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

Stuck In A Moment

No Line on the Horizon

Elevation

Until The End of the World

Unforgettable Fire

City of Blinding Lights

Vertigo

I'll Go Crazy - Remix

Sunday Bloody Sunday

MLK

Walk On


One

Where The Streets Have No Name



Ultraviolet

With or Without You

Moment of Surrender

U2 at Cowboys Stadium, Part I

It's last Friday night; I'm sitting on my couch, reading a book turning more and more bizarre; and a friend calls with an out-of-the-blue: two extra tickets to the U2 concert at Cowboys Stadium. Now it's Monday morning, and my alarm's making a proclamation: 4:30 a.m. In spite of the hour, I am prepared—well, as prepared as one can be with a 4 a.m. frame of mind. See, this ungodly gong has gone off because my friends with the extra tickets have invited my wife and I along on their mad-mission: getting into the "inner circle" of the U2 stage by getting in line while it's still dark out. Now, it's just after 6 a.m., and in spite of my sleep-deprived stupor, I am in line for a U2 concert. A weekend that had originally held all the promise of a book and some drizzle has now evolved into a four-day holiday, culminating in a date on a "Space Ship" with one of the world's most famous musical acts.

We arrive in line and discover an officially unofficial, fan-initiated tracking system that is in place to manage the day ahead of us. This plan consists of a sharpie pen and some scratch paper. I am the 110th fan in line. In spite of such rudimentary materials, the system works wonders. For the simple fact that a plan is in place, everyone feels at ease. We no longer have to live in the uncertainty of whether our early arrival is going to be rewarded or not. We have a spot. Of course there will be people who try to cut, but we have been instructed to get to know the people around us. This way we can identify the invaders when they arrive. Even better, as soon as we assume our spot, we can feel an atmosphere of solidarity around us. We're in this together. Carry each other.

Though we would not hear a note of live music until 14 hours later, in this line there was never a dull moment. Fourth in line was "Tattoo Dan," a category manager at a Nike store in New York, who has been attending U2 concerts regularly since 1987 and has been invited on stage multiple times. Just behind us in line was a husband and wife from Australia, who referred to lining up before the show as "cue-ing"; on the current tour, they have already seen shows in California and Arizona, and eagerly anticipate the next leg of the tour, when U2 comes to the outback.

These fans were not only interesting but also affable. In my 27 years of life, in which I have now attended a meager 17 pop music concerts, I have never encountered such a civil set of fans. Few attempted to sneak a closer spot (though a few early-risers held spots for their spouses, who showed up after sleeping in). Few late-arrivers expressed discontent over their spot. When we began to receive wristbands to confirm our status—literally, the last minute before admittance—I saw no one trying to move up in the line. Even as we began our endless descent to the floor of the stadium, few ran to get ahead. A spirit of common grace seemed to have descended upon us all. As Bono would surely have put it, love had come to town. On the floor in the moments that follow, this spirit will prove concert-saving.

Now it's nearly 5 p.m., and we're finally in. Minutes later, after my friends and I have found the floor, made our way into the long-awaited inner circle, and located a spot on the back rail, just right of center-stage, Event Staffers begin telling us, all 200 of us, to leave the inner ring. Organizers are admitting groups of 200, one at a time. We are the first, and now they want us to exit the area. This is no joke. You must leave. This area is not for those with blue bracelets. You must return to the general standing area. To make matters worse, approximately six police officers are at hand, ready to enforce whatever The White Shirts say. But here's the clincher: even though many of our fellow fans have occupied the enclosed part of the stage at previous shows on this very tour, Event Staff is neither listening nor explaining why.

Tempers explode. With personnel refusing to listen, what started as reasonable pleading devolves into legal threats. So, as policemen prepare to escort some off the premises, the rest of us begin to consider our options. A few run for the best remaining spots. Others begin to drift in that direction. Most of these fans, however, are die-hards. They stay put, because they know better.

After about five furious minutes, three consecutive events occur that will save the day. First, as soon as the party poopers show up, our more experienced friends all move into sitting position, making it clear that they will have to be dragged away. Second, to support those of us still standing, the fans that have chosen a spot outside the inner circle begin urging us to stay: Don't leave. Don't leave. Finally, a second set of 200 fans comes crashing into the inner area, doubling our numbers. The policemen decide to leave and Event Staff follows close behind. Their retreat means our survival, and the cheers of 400 fans cry victory. When a day in line was about to be lost, fan solidarity rallied to win the day. Now with our spot secured, all that remained was an upright wait of three hours and the concert experience of a lifetime.