Warm chocolate chip cookies. Fuzzy blankets. Hot chocolate. A hand rubbing your back. These things mean comfort for me, things that I use to get me through a rough spot whether it is a bad day or a bad year. But my most dependable comfort? U2.
I had a boyfriend in college who would come in my room and knew something was wrong because Unforgettable Fire was on a loop in the CD player. Last week on a cranky morning I plugged in the iPod and Bad – from our Dublin show no less – was the first song in the rotation. I burst into tears because as ridiculous as it sounds – it was like they knew that was what I needed at that moment.
U2 don’t know me, they’ll never know me, so they’ll never know how much I depend on their music to bring me joy, calm, energy, passion and for comfort. It is like wrapping myself in the biggest coziest blanket in the world with a plate full of cookies and a strong steady hand on my back. I suppose if I was ever lucky enough to meet any of them I would tell them that.
So I’ve listened to them all weekend and from the exhilarating opening chords of Where the Streets Have No Name, to the raw energy of Out of Control, to the sheer fucking awesomeness of Crazy Tonight remix, to the catharsis of Breathe – they’ve lifted me up – they’ve held me up – they never let me fall.