SLANE at 40: 'There wasn’t a single person there that evening whose heart didn’t swell with Pride'

1st September 2001 - U2

ANNE CALLAN

I remember the morning of the first U2 concert in August 2001, clearly. A few friends and I had our breakfast in a coffee shop in Kells before heading off and what surprised me most about that dull morning was the number of fellas we met who hadn’t been at Slane for years, some of them not since the first concert in 1981. And yet they had dusted down their duds and were raring to go.

Slane was 20-years-old. Imagine, we said, two decades! It meant we were twenty years older but that didn’t quash the spirit of freedom and excitement which grabs you in the pit of your stomach on the day of a gig. We had heard that Bono’s father had died, RIP. People spoke about it respectfully, in hushed tones, the way they would if it were their own parent they spoke of. The tickets had been like gold dust, so I felt all the more thankful to be going.

The sun had come out and the sky was an acre of blue by the time we reached Slane. The grass canvas became an abstract colourful crowd, quickly. The stage resembled a huge grey hangar in the hollow of the field.

We whiled away the hours in a delicious juxtaposition of time drifting by yet marching on relentlessly. Basic housekeeping such as queuing at chip vans and queuing for drinks unfolded against the backdrop of Kelis and a band called Coldplay. Coldplay were an inoffensive blend of poppy rock. I liked their song ‘Yellow’.

We reminisced about how many times we’d seen U2, and the places we’d seen them since 1981. Dublin, London, the States, Australia, lauding my sister who had seen them on three continents. I recalled many summer holidays in my younger days in Europe whereupon on hearing that you were Irish, fellows would ask, Do you know Larry Mullen? Germans, French and Italians especially loved to talk about Larry Mullen.

From what I can see Larry Mullen is the least obtrusive member of the band, hidden behind the drums, but that had been my experience. The Red Hot Chili Peppers interrupted our reverie, introducing themselves with a startling guitar riff. Their funky rock sound managed to drive the crowd wild, especially the swarm at the front.

And still we waited tentatively for the big act.

I believe there wasn’t a single person there that evening whose heart didn’t swell with pride. Bono’s face never belied his vulnerability, his bravery saw to that. There was a strange benediction in the substance of it; every song on the playlist seemed to have a poignant correlation to the big sunset sky, to life and to death. One got as much grace from God for being there, I think, as pilgrims would get from being in Knock or Lourdes or any sacred place.

Slane is the perfect place to see and hear U2. It was a unique year in that U2 were playing another gig the very next week in Slane. I would like to have been going again but was grateful to have been there, once. The fireworks lit up the heavens, it was very moving.