A Place Called Vertigo
Here's something I haven't said since 1987: I like U2's new song. It's not so much the lyrics or the music specifically that moves me. It's the feel. Listening to Vertigo, I'm transported to Eishenhower Park, circa 1978; a warm summer evening, maybe a bottle of Boones Farm wine or a six of Bud nearby, twenty or so people playing Frisbee, and a small pre-boombox era radio playing some early 70's psychedelic, let's-be-groovy music. And that's a really good place to visit. So I'm digging the song. Man.