PUT BONO ON THE BONFIRE?

Glace, il n’y a que tes rivières froides qui coulent
Ces lumières de la ville,
Elles brillent comme de l’argent et de l’or
Tirés de la nuit, tes yeux sont noirs comme du charbon

Continue, va au-delà
Marche jusqu’à ce que tu coures
Et ne te retourne pas car c’est là que je suis

Carnaval, les roues volent
Et les couleurs tournoient
A travers le hall
Le vin rouge pique la peau
Face à face, dans un endroit sec et sans eau

Verlaine? Rimbaud? Baudelaire? Pas du tout...the easily obtainable lyrics in French for 'The Unfogettable Fire', single from album of same year issued by U2 in 1985, around the time of their Live Aid 'breakthrough' gig. I am pretty sure I own this disc, although sadly not with Bono warbling in French. I also own 'War', the one with 'New Year's Day' on, which I liked enough to go see the four lads, white flags and all, at the Manchester Apollo.

Should one cringe at the memory? In a typically well-targeted, judiciously acerbic piece in The Guardian, Charlie Brooker hinted U2's international fan base, there since the mid-1980, was largely an illusion. Does anyone care about U2 these days? I must admit that news of them headling 'Glasto'  did not set the pulse  racing. Curses for missing the likes of Springsteen and Young in recent years, even Pulp this year, but was anyone rushing to check on thes set-list this time round, or YouTubing the stage performance in Somerset?

Taken to task for tax avoidance and sucking up to Jeffrey Sachs, Bono (Vox?) now comes close to Sting as
whipping boy for those sick of the rich and righteous. There is, for sure, plenty to talk about on the debit side. John Peel never liked them,  too much twee mysticism in that early stuff and too much pomp later. Bono's name was bloody stupid (although conveniently close to 'Boner' or 'ONOB ' if you really must). So too The Edge's. I can never remember much about the other two, beyond Adam (or was it Larry?) falling foul of a vengeful Naomi Campbell. Even back in the late 1980s, U2 got it in the neck for 'Rattle and Hum' and getting too thick too soon with American artists of greater stature. Look through the Discography after the bombastic, but still partly magnificent 'Joshua Tree' and there ain't all that much to get excited about. 'Get On Your Boots' was particularly dire.

Tenty-six years as global stadium giants is way too long in anyone's book. But I still suspect there are hundreds  of acts out there, some aspiring to rock royalty, more worthy of opprobrium. A Sudanese friend one asked me, with sadness as well as curiosity: "why do you hate Sting?" Where to start? This was even before the risible duet with Craig David, the piss-poor cameo in 'Lockstock.." and the dreaded Police comeback. I struggled for justifications, remembering I hated Stuart Copeland just as much, before eventually dismissing poor Gordon as a F*****G C*** Not big, or clever, but strangely satisfying and a phrase I would (not yet) use about the sacred Bono.

Travis the Trooper

So Dave Lee Travis brought cheer and comfort to Aung San Suu Kyi in her darkest hours. It is probably bad form to criticise  a Nobel Laureate for her taste in DJs. It could , after all have been Chris Moyles. But DLT? A bearded, boring dinosaur axed, or forced to jump, by a modernising Radio One management more than a decade ago. "Get thee to a commercial station, preferably in the shires, and take your crap quiz shows with you".

DLT's infamous farewell "live on air" declaration to an indifferent nation was a tad pormpous, a bit like when McCartney left The Beatles. Nor did he help himself with some highly patronising remarks about those who followed him into the studio. "No one seems to understand the 'c' word, these days: COMMUNICATOR", he told a documentary team.  A reviewer quipped that another c word came rapidly to mind when contemplating DLT and his work.

But was this fair? Not when you think of Mike Smith or Mike Read. I remember Travis bringing up the rear on the unrivalled Radio 1 daytime line-up in the mid-1970s, the drive-time man from Derbyshire wrapping up after Noel Edmonds, Tony Blackburn, Johnnie Walker and David Hamilton, and not a bad listen. Difficult to believe it now, but Edmonds was a hugely witty breakfast jock. Even as a callow teenager, I sensed that DLT struggled to fill his shoes, all that "coming at you through the cornflakes" stuff and jocular jibes about getting out of bed. Things got much worse when he got serious. Anyone for a breakfast time campaign against seal-clubbing? "Some of you will find this upsetting...." He also refused to play PIL's 'Death Disco' on the chart rundown, perhaps thinking that John Lydon was advocating slaughter on the dancefloor.

DLT was no great musical pioneer, but I remember a dignified tribute to the wonderful Minnie Riperton and a jokey, rather cute interview with Abba, with the hairy one even coaxing the odd chuckle from the bashful Agnetha.

All pretty trivial when you've been the DJ of choice for the Burmese house arrest heroine. So DLT clearly does not stand for Deadbeat Lethargic Tripe. How about Deliverance, Love and Trust?