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cosmolinguistJenn and I went to St. Cloud on Monday. It's an hour-and-a-hal drive each way, and except for the random mix CD we played at first, we listened to The Joshua Tree for the whole three hours.
After some debate over whether or not it was playing at all, our straining ears heard the beginning guitar lick to "Where the Streets Have No Name." Jenn and I had been talking about how much we love this album--we like some of the same things, and sometimes talk about the most random stuff until we've worked ourselves up into a frenzy of excitement over something like Chipotle (which was one of the reasons we were going to St. Cloud in the first place) or The Joshua Tree (which Jenn was inspired to borrow from a friend of hers who loves U2).
So by the time the song started having words, I'd been thinking about these things enough that I was too enthralled to sing along with this song I knew and loved so well. I just wanted to listen. I couldn't help mouthing the words, though. "I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside."
Soon we were singing along anyway. One of us would randomly stop talking to sing a random line we know or like and would then return to our conversation as if nothing unusual had happened ... because nothing unusual had happened.
I noticed that the overcast sky was bringing dusk down upon us even though it was only 4:30. It wasn't raining but it looked as if it might. We left our boring stretch of highway for I-94, and our zippy car became super-zippy.
We talked about music and sex. We weren't just horny, though; there weren't any hormones involved (well, in my case anyway, but I wouldn't presume to speak for Jenn). This music isn't about sex, it just makes us want to have sex with the people who made it. The Joshua Tree gives us goosebumps sometimes.
I need that CD. I used to have it on tape (so it couldn't have been any later than junior high, back when I still bought and played tapes), and it has long since disappeared. I miss it now!
After some debate over whether or not it was playing at all, our straining ears heard the beginning guitar lick to "Where the Streets Have No Name." Jenn and I had been talking about how much we love this album--we like some of the same things, and sometimes talk about the most random stuff until we've worked ourselves up into a frenzy of excitement over something like Chipotle (which was one of the reasons we were going to St. Cloud in the first place) or The Joshua Tree (which Jenn was inspired to borrow from a friend of hers who loves U2).
So by the time the song started having words, I'd been thinking about these things enough that I was too enthralled to sing along with this song I knew and loved so well. I just wanted to listen. I couldn't help mouthing the words, though. "I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside."
Soon we were singing along anyway. One of us would randomly stop talking to sing a random line we know or like and would then return to our conversation as if nothing unusual had happened ... because nothing unusual had happened.
I noticed that the overcast sky was bringing dusk down upon us even though it was only 4:30. It wasn't raining but it looked as if it might. We left our boring stretch of highway for I-94, and our zippy car became super-zippy.
We talked about music and sex. We weren't just horny, though; there weren't any hormones involved (well, in my case anyway, but I wouldn't presume to speak for Jenn). This music isn't about sex, it just makes us want to have sex with the people who made it. The Joshua Tree gives us goosebumps sometimes.
I need that CD. I used to have it on tape (so it couldn't have been any later than junior high, back when I still bought and played tapes), and it has long since disappeared. I miss it now!
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Date: 2003-11-19 05:47 pm (UTC)and that song... played live... unfuckingbelievable... i've never been anywhere with so much human energy and spirit before...
i just got goosebumps thinking about it...
(and i don't have a pic of anyone with "BONO" written on their head, so this will have to do)