U2 Elevation Tour

Elevation Tour 1st leg: North America

2001-03-24: National Car Rental Center - Sunrise, Florida, USA

U2 -- Opening Night, National Car Rental Center, Sunrise, Fla., March 24

BY KATE X MESSER

Sweat poured off Bono's face. He kept that damn Matrix coat on all night, despite Miami heat made all the more intense by the 20,000-strong throng at his feet. He looked up at the crowd and smiled, "Thanks for following us around all these years, and for giving us a great life ..." He paused. The crowd roared. "I hope we don't fuck it up! How was the first night?"

Bedlam. Laughter echoed through the din as the sated audience relished the lead singer's irony -- a flavor purportedly absent from this elemental, "back-to-basics" tour. Bono shook his head, obviously pleased with himself, and grinned at his own understatement. Hell, the man had given his all, falling into the audience once, leaping into the audience a second time, and running laps around the heart-shaped ramp that carried the band members out into the lucky few thousand on the arena floor . The only thing "elemental" about the Elevation 2001 Tour is that the band is smack-dab in their element, right at the heart of the fans who love them.

Sadly, PJ Harvey, the mercurial British singer-songwriter scheduled to open the tour's American dates, was stricken with a viral infection requiring three weeks of recovery; as of press time, she is planning to join the tour in Houston. Ireland's Corrs were a last-minute addition brought in to warm up the sold-out crowd. As it turned out, the ABBA-infused young band was a perfect match for club-soaked Miami. Their infectious world pop splayed from salsa to Southern rock, with a few jiggy nods to the homeland whenever slinky lead singer Andrea Corr whipped out her tin whistle.

As the lights came up, the remaining empty seats filled quickly and folks on the general admission floor vied for choice spots. A number of seemingly Irish flags unfurled during the Corrs' set, but the house lights revealed some to be, in fact, similarly hued Mexican and Italian banners. People were here from all over. Nervous anticipation began to erupt in small pockets of applause, the crowd perhaps hoping to will their heroes onto the stage.

The first bellowing keyboard bursts of "Elevation," the song, officially launched Elevation, the tour, and made U2's case, loud and clear, now and forever -- that Rock is back and never really went that far away. The sonic depth-charge pings rang throughout the sports arena as the crowd became one writhing mass under full-up lights. The stage exploded in a bath of white as the band sauntered out casually. People looked at each other and held on tight with every communal bounce and leap, arms up and out to welcome the boys home.

While Edge somehow crammed the entire "Elevation" wall of sound into one guitar, bassist Adam Clayton grinned like a kid, and Larry Mullen Jr. furrowed his patented buzz cut into a serious drummer-face. Bono, meanwhile, took the opportunity to vogue and vamp for the audience, striking different heroic rock poses to the hiccupy beat. Oh, he milked it, stretching out his arms and wiggling his Elvis between lines. Offering no quarter, U2 next launched into their most recent mega-hit, "Beautiful Day." Full-disclosure time: the band was blowing their figurative load, as it were. By this point, the crowd was maniacally pogoing as one. As each chorus hit and harmonies soared heavenward, the stage sparkled. Then more electric baths of white and full-blast house lights, and the ramps lit into rows of strobes. It was "Until the End of the World," and only the night's third song. Edge took the far ramp and Bono took the other, teasing and urging the audience with every step. At one point, he began worshipping Edge as delayed power chords tripped and rippled from his Les Paul. Bono lay flat, allowing the crowd to bask in the understated excellence of the guitarist who has influenced more bands and car commercials than most contemporaries.

As Bono recovered, he blew little kisses into the crowd and fell backward off the stage toward the best "seats" in the house: inside the ring made by the ramp-heart. It was clearly unintentional, as teams of yellow- and black-shirted staff dove in after him and pushed him back up to the ramp. He lie there for an uncomfortably long moment before making his way back up, only to be chased backward to the main stage by Edge.

Themes of redemption and returning prodigal sons recurred throughout the evening. The band ripped through most of the best of their quarter century: "New Year's Day," "One," "I Will Follow," "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of," "Staring at the Sun," "Bad" -- all of which have their moments of moving on with life and leaving the past behind. More specifically, the night emphasized the band's taking the past to heart and returning to rock -- everything the press has been heralding since the release of U2's 10th album, All That You Can't Leave Behind.

It could all seem a bit deliberate to those of little faith. After all, this is a band whose last two ventures out into the great big world brought giant lemons and ordering pizza for thousands. Gone are the excesses of propaganda-themed Zoo TV and gluttonous, irony-clad PopMart, the prank calls to the White House, and jillion-dollar pyrotechnic setups. Of course, relatively speaking, Elevation 2001 is a lean touring machine, but don't let the pundits fool you: This is no bare-bones, stripped-down deal.

The lighting design is ingenious in its simplicity, with different configurations of blistering strobes and gentle pop-art patterns used as mood highlighters for certain songs. The heart-shaped stage and simple, four-panel close-up projections of the band, sends a message that U2 belonged down with the crowd, up close and personal. Scrims, abstract projections, and a brilliant digital lightboard were used with amazing tastefulness. The lightboard itself seemed a bit of an homage to the last two tours, especially on "Mysterious Ways," as Bono playfully lounged on one panel as it grew from four to about 12 feet while displaying color silhouettes of what appeared to be a 007 opening-credits dancer. (Maybe that belly dancer Edge ended up marrying?)

Advance word intimated Bono was nursing sore vocal cords. It did seem compression and reverb were employed at key points throughout the set, but for the most part he wailed sans embellishment, no holds barred. If he had a tender throat at the beginning, what he did to it though the course of the evening surely left it in tatters. During the part dedicated to his wife, Ali ("The Sweetest Thing," "In a Little While," "The Ground Beneath Her Feet,"), Bono sliced through notes like James Brown or Sam Cooke.

Ultimately, U2's most anthemic material earned the most reaction, not surprising for a band with causes like Drop the Debt and Amnesty International tabling at their shows. "Sunday Bloody Sunday" required no backup singing as the crowd stepped in with almost religious fervor. (What a relief Bono, Edge, Adam, and Larry are rock stars and not figureheads for some whacked-out nationalist movement.) "The Fly" featured Zoo TV-like word deconstructions on the digi-screen, "lie" becoming "believe." "Bullet the Blue Sky" was most powerful, as Edge's screaming solos hit their marks as surely as our godforsaken planes did over those Salvadorian villages.

Throughout the evening, Bono seemed driven to free-associate and establish U2's place in the rock pantheon as often as possible, inserting lyrics from David Bowie, Lou Reed, Led Zeppelin, Bob Marley, and even Donna Summer into appropriate places. Near the end, a young guy up in the nosebleed seats, in the aisle between sections 419 and 420, was dancing his ass off -- rocking out, way up there, where nobody could see. "With or Without You" splashed across the fans like the twinkling star-map projected onto the scrims. He was partying like it was 1987, the end of the world, and his last night on earth.

At one point, the screens came down and the stars were projected directly onto everyone. Thank you, Mr. Hewson and friends, the message was not lost. We know who the true stars of your evening were. "How was the first night? Have we done the job?"

Do you have to ask?