Bono fans ‘Surrender’ during S.F. book stop
Bono knows banter.
U2 is a proper stadium band, and its frontman can seize a spontaneous moment and elevate an atmosphere to the point fans will run through walls for him. He has that charismatic gift to move fans in mysterious ways. If the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame had a mid-concert monologue category, Bono would be a first-ballot inductee.
So how in-the-moment could Bono be when his thoughts, monologues and origin stories are road-mapped on stage and scripted on a teleprompter? A packed house of graying Gen Xers — some of them wearing vintage U2 tour gear from the ’80s — showed up to the Orpheum Theatre on Saturday for his San Francisco book tour stop to find out.
Before the sold-out event, in support of Bono’s new memoir, “Surrender: 40 Songs, One Story,” attendees surrendered their smart phones and placed them into a magnet-locked Yondr bag. The lack of video and selfie opportunities kept actress Julia Roberts and her cinematographer husband, Danny Moder, comfortably anonymous as the two Presidio Heights residents blended in with the Patagonia-decked crowd.
For their trouble, each ticket holder was rewarded with a distraction-free evening of “words, music and some mischief,” and a copy of the book. The words came in the form of vignettes tracing Bono’s journey from Dublin, Ireland, to rock ’n’ roll Babylon. And Bono found kismet in the location.
“It’s Orpheus at the Orpheum,” he crowed, equating his search for love and meaning with that of Orpheus, the Greek prophet and musician who searched for his love, Eurydice, in the underworld. Bono later used “The City of Blinding Lights” to honor Allen Ginsberg and the home of the Beats, calling it “The City of City Lights.” Other local landmarks — the Warfield, the Civic Center and even Nancy Pelosi — were also name-checked for their contribution and inspiration to U2’s story.
A three-piece band — Jacknife Lee (samples, percussion), Gemma Doherty (harp and vocals) and Kate Ellis (cello) — performed snippets and stripped-down versions of U2 songs while Bono revealed the origin stories behind some of his band’s hits and deep cuts. “I Will Follow,” “With or Without You” and “Where the Streets Have No Name” were especially compelling from musical and cerebral angles. During “Desire,” Ellis plucked out a steady Bo Diddley beat on her cello, an impressive display of rhythmic sensibility, while Doherty provided sonorous vocal accompaniment on “Stories for Boys.”
Bono appeared in his signature all-black ensemble, boots and round, rose-tinted lenses. The staging was spare — just dining and living room furnishings, and a backdrop that flashed handwritten passages, photos and sketches from the book. It was a big change from the bombastic sets U2 is used to.
“A lot of you know when U2 goes on tour, it can involve outsized props: gigantic claws, space stations, mirrorball lemons,” he said. “We were told to cut back tonight.”
But the stories Bono told were anything but spare. Filled with delicious details about his childhood; his relationship with the love of his life, Ali; the band; his family; and his fight for what’s right, he captivated the crowd for nearly two hours.
Having each word perfectly manicured and placed for maximum impact upped Bono’s monologue game even higher. At times, it was deeply poetic and professorial. Other times, he was the best storyteller in the pub. Two memories of the strained relationship with his father demonstrated the latter — one about his father meeting Princess Diana; the second about his final profane words uttered into Bono’s ear, while on his deathbed. It was a masterful blend of light and dark humor.
But the format had its limitations. When a verbal scuffle in the balcony escalated to within Bono’s earshot, enough to cause audience members to crane their necks, he briefly turned toward the source of the commotion before returning to his prepared script. It was the kind of spontaneous moment he’d deftly turn into a lifetime memory at one of his concerts. This evening, however, he was stuck in a moment he couldn’t get out of.