The band U2, carrying in its DNA an unplugged reimagining of cathedral postpunk anthems into rock stadiums, invites a rethink. Are they small-thinking giants, or do conquerors sometimes mask humility? Songs of Surrender can signal personal change, a moment of betrayal, or simply a pastime for those who prefer polish to edge. There is another lens to view it—an approach that sees these grand, aspirational songs becoming intimate and hushed, a way to express power without shouting.
Here, Adam Clayton (bass) and Larry Mullen Jr (drums) appear almost relaxed, while a delicate web of acoustic guitars and piano frames the stage. It’s a return to essentials, linking the past with a contemporary working style the quartet has long embraced—despite its melancholy, its fragility lingers, visible in albums themed around innocence (2014) and experience (2017). The revival tours of The Joshua Tree (2017-19) and Bono’s memoirs, titled Surrender, serve as a direct precursor to this quartet’s current album.
Each disc reflects a member’s imprint, totaling forty songs, though eleven deviate, mirroring the chapters in the accompanying book. For The Edge, who took on production duties, the project aimed to present songs “as if Bono were singing them directly to you,” updated with fresh arrangements and new dynamics. Backed by regulars Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois, plus the seasoned Bob Ezrin, the sound grows rich with nuance, shifting from a subtle gospel warmth in One to a tone that deepens the emotional resonance. The build crescendos in a mining town’s Red Hill atmosphere, carrying a sense of public ceremony and movement. Pride (In the Name of Love) resonates with that same defiant energy.
The tracks that rely on raw energy rather than traditional melody sometimes falter, yet culminate with a striking cello contribution from Stjepan Hauser of 2Cellos. The arrangement preserves a hint of mischief within a distorted folk pulse, though the album occasionally misses chances for standout performances, lingering instead on a string of familiar hits that gain renewed purpose in new contexts, including a version of Walk On adapted to support Ukraine. Bono’s voice remains central, whispering with measured restraint and suggesting a matured, nuanced vocal presence.
The performance blends deliberate craft with a confident style, and as anticipation builds for future rounds, there’s a shared hope that the next wave will bring original interpretations back to the fore. In the meantime, listeners are reminded of how much the voice of Bono and the band once defined the era and still can shape it, even with a gentler touch.