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It's always intriguing to discover how a future megaband came across when nobody knew who they were. NME's Paul Morley was there when four bonny Dublin boys played their first London show at West Hampstead's miniature Moonlight Club--and it turns out he was right on the money when he gazed into his crystal ball…-- Barney Hoskyns, Editorial Director, Rock's Backpages

Two newcomers, U2 and the Soul Boys, played in London NW6 either side of the Xmas go-slow. Plenty of gaps in the gathering for the U2 show, but of the two they're the ones with obvious commercial potential. Standing on toes rubbing elbows for Soul Boys, but only because they were supporting local stars Spizz Energi--who have yet to change their name for the new year.

Early contact with the assured U2's physical sound probably won't leave you struck with their presence, dear. Aaah! A very rational and functional sort of taut pop, you'll think. Industrious, but lacking invention.

Peel away the layers of prejudice you inevitably feel when faced with yet another pop line up playing bouncily with swift Ramone riffs, moral melodies and mobile structures and take some evasive action. Don't look straight on, come in at an angle.

U2 are sharp and subtle and cynical, slyly seductive in an uncompromising way like the Pretenders or the Au Pairs. A pop that isn't pap and pad, a safe cushion of clichés and convenience, but angles, urgency, deflections. U2 are style plus spontaneity, an uncouth grace, an agile synthesis of abusive and abrasive ways to use up all that evil and inviting '60s-'70s tradition. Subversive pop can be so stimulating--don't you think?--slapping and stinging when you least expect it, beautifully bittersweet.

Of course, U2 are still young and free of any kind of bizzy contradictions, so I can have my fun with no guilt. And if the wild wit and serious rave of U2 won't turn you on, they look so cute. Pretty drummer, odd bassist, tense guitarist, and to deliver their jittery balance of amiability and aggression a lead singer who could well grow to be something of a nuisance when U2 are Top of the Pops regulars but right now adds new tingles to the greedy Bobsie presence. Like naughty Mork the unpredictable alien he's irrepressible, irritating and accidentally, incidentally and purposefully incisive. A multitude of targets are shot at, a few are bound to be hit.

U2 are from Dublin, showband roots not a total secret. A group made for loving and leaving, for burning into view and then burning up. When a group's in view it's so hard for them to envisage being a nonentity again. You have to sigh. But for now--U2, here they are.

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