The Joshua Tree

I first heard a U2 song on the radio in 6th grade. I remember this very clearly: it was about midnight, I was cuddled in my blankets on my twin bed, and I had my brand new black Sony cassette stereo tuned to 104.7. I was waiting for something good to happen. On comes a little number-- I later discovered to be called Pride (In the Name of Love)-- with lyrics that are startlingly spiritual and vocal that's sincere and passionate. I have no idea who it is. At a sleepover later that year I mention the mysterious song to a friend, she crinkles her brow and dips her head, "That's U2." Was it ever cool to like them? I'll never know...I mean this was 1994 for goodness sakes.

1994-5 (7th grade) passes in the arms of The Cranberries, Erasure, and the Pet Shop Boys. I spend a lot of time appreciating dance music from the early 90s. I avoid Marilyn Manson. I try to find Christan music that doesn't stink (Plankeye was cool).

1996 rolls in, and my brother tapes me a copy of The Joshua Tree. If you pour through my tapes of music recorded off the radio, you'll see this isn't totally out of the blue-- I taped nearly all the singles from The Joshua Tree and Achtung, Baby (right alongside such lasting gems as "What is Love?" and "One Headlight").

It was very exciting to have an older brother out of the house and living in a co-op; I remember sitting in a bean-bag chair in Brendan's room, listening to The Joshua Tree, pouring over the lyrics booklet from the CD, and feeling like I was really onto something big, like I was stepping outside of time. I don't think it makes sense for a fall in Oregon, but I remember the sun shining through the window, casting light across the carpeted floor and onto my feet.

Nobody needs me to declare this album a classic. These songs light up the sky like the North Star for innumerable people. And yet...The Joshua Tree, familiar to millions, is stored in safe-keeping in my heart.

Some songs wrapped themselves around me like the green jacket I just couldn't stop wearing in 7th grade.

Some songs helped me understand what was going on inside my body, inside my heart.

"Where the Streets Have No Name" encouraged me to be fearless in my desire to know and be known.

"I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame"

"Running to Stand Still" and "Bullet the Blue Sky" moved me beyond my limits of knowledge and understanding, forced me to ask questions, do research, think meta-cognitively.

"Exit" filled me to the brim with the love of poetry, the intensity of simplicity.

"He went deeper into black
Deeper into white
Could see the stars shining
Like nails in the night"

"Mothers of the Disappeared," born of compassion, was fittingly played during the aftermath of the Columbine shooting and entwined itself with my peers stolen from life.

"In the wind we hear their laughter
In the rain we see their tears
Hear their heartbeat
We hear their heartbeat"

Some songs greet me with their meaning in my adulthood, open new doors of understanding and welcome me in. "In God's Country" is a prime example of this. It has always been a particular favorite, one I felt I identified with but never understood why. I sensed eternity and mortality warring with each other inside that song, and the older I get the more I understand what that war means in each of our lives, the daily struggle of faith, hope, idealism, and the easy death that awaits them. I am sure I will revisit this song for further discussion.

"Set me alight
We'll punch a hole right through the night
Everyday the dreamers die
See what's on the other side"

Songs like "Bullet the Blue Sky", "One Tree Hill," and "In God's Country" challenge me to be more than I am now...to fight la lucha against injustice everywhere, to fight against the injustice here in America...

"Across the field you see the sky ripped open
See the rain through a gaping wound
Pounding on the women and children
Who run
Into the arms
Of America"

-Bullet the Blue Sky

 ...and my own human heart.

"I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone"

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

The passion of teenage-dom is a beautiful and intense thing, and I don't think it really ever goes away. Many adults find it naive to care about something with every fiber of being, honestly and truly, without irony.

"Love...slowly stripped away
Love...has seen its better day." 

- Red Hill Mining Town

The thing is, we adults tend to retain all of the pettiness of youth, and add bitterness-- sometimes mistakenly called pragmatism or realism-- to the mix. U2, and this album in particular, remind me of the vast landscape of pain, violence, desire, forgiveness...the aching of the earth to be perfected in a wash of love. The Joshua Tree started my journey into the great music of the 20th century, and I am thankful to return to it now as a touchstone in my adulthood; teenage Colleen would be pleased I remain resolute in my passion.

Put "With or Without" on the player and I'll still feel all the feelings of the teenage heart that beats on inside my chest.