Olivia: Alright Jackson, before we dive in, what’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear 'rockstar memoir'? Jackson: Oh, easy. Endless stories about trashing hotel rooms, questionable fashion choices from the 80s, and a whole lot of ego. Probably a chapter dedicated to a specific brand of hairspray. Olivia: (Laughs) Well, you're not entirely wrong about the genre, but Surrender: 40 Songs, One Story by Bono is something else entirely. It’s been praised for its raw honesty, but what's really unique is its structure. Bono frames his entire life through 40 U2 songs, turning his discography into a map of his own soul. It’s less about the rockstar clichés and more about the man behind the sunglasses. Jackson: A map of his soul? That’s a pretty lofty goal. Does he pull it off? The reviews I saw were pretty mixed—some people loved the poetry of it, others found it a bit much. Olivia: I think he does, precisely because he leans into the vulnerability, not the victory laps. And speaking of vulnerability, he opens the book not with a sold-out concert, but on an operating table, convinced he's about to die.

Jackson: Whoa, okay. That's not the opening I expected. Starting with a near-death experience is a bold move. Olivia: It’s incredibly powerful. It's Christmas 2016, and he's at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York. He finds out he has a blister on his aorta that's about to burst. He needs emergency, open-heart surgery. He describes this surreal, out-of-body experience during the eight-hour procedure, feeling intensely cold and just… looking down on himself. Jackson: That's terrifying. For a guy who commands stadiums of 80,000 people, being that powerless must be a profound shock to the system. It’s the ultimate loss of control. Olivia: Exactly. And in that moment of surrender, he has this flash of clarity. He writes about it in the lyrics for "Lights of Home," thinking, "I shouldn’t be here ’cause I should be dead… I believe my best days are ahead, I can see the lights in front of me." It’s this incredible defiance in the face of oblivion. Jackson: That’s a beautiful sentiment. But what did he actually learn from it? Was it just a renewed appreciation for life, or did something fundamental shift in how he saw himself? Olivia: That’s the fascinating part. The shift was completely unexpected. After the surgery, his doctor, a man named David Adams, says something stunning to Bono's wife, Ali. He tells her, "Your man has a lot of firepower in that war chest of his… He’s probably at about 130 percent of normal lung capacity for his age." Jackson: Hold on. 130 percent? So, the thing that makes Bono, Bono—that soaring, epic voice that can fill a stadium—is literally built on having more air than a normal person? Olivia: Precisely. He realizes that this incredible "gift" he's built his life and career on isn't just hard work or divine inspiration. It's a genetic advantage. It's just... air. He'd spent his whole life thinking his success was driven by his own force of will, but a huge part of it was an unfair, inherited privilege he never even knew he had. Jackson: Wow. That's like a world-class sprinter discovering they have an extra muscle in their legs they never knew about. It completely reframes your entire history of "hard work." It’s not that the work wasn’t real, but the starting line was different. Olivia: It forces him to rethink everything. He even recalls this story from the 80s when the singer Robert Palmer cornered U2's bassist, Adam Clayton, and pleaded with him, saying Bono’s high-energy singing style was going to kill him. Palmer was worried for him, but Bono just kept pushing, not realizing he had this massive physical reservoir to draw from. Jackson: That adds such a human layer to it. It connects to another story you mentioned he tells, about his father's death. That also seems to be a moment of profound, messy vulnerability. Olivia: It really is. He’s by his father's bedside in 2001 as he's dying from Parkinson's. It’s not this peaceful, cinematic passing. It's confusing and raw. His dad is struggling to breathe, shouting his name in confusion, wanting to go home. And then, his father's very last words, to someone or something only he could see, were just… Jackson: What were they? Olivia: "FUCK OFF!" Jackson: (A beat of silence, then a laugh) Oh, man. That is… incredible. It’s so real. It’s heartbreaking and darkly hilarious all at once. How does a person even begin to process that? Olivia: He sees it as a final act of defiance against the disease, a last roar. But it underscores this theme that runs through the book: life’s most profound moments—birth, death, love, success—are messy, imperfect, and completely out of our control. You just have to surrender to them.

Jackson: And that idea of surrender seems to apply not just to life and death, but to his creative life, too. It's one thing to surrender to mortality when you have no choice, but it's something else entirely to willingly surrender your own success. Olivia: You've nailed the central tension of the second half of the book. After the massive, world-conquering success of The Joshua Tree album, U2 was, by any measure, the biggest band in the world. They had it all. But Bono felt they were becoming a caricature of themselves. He famously declared on stage, "This is just the end of something for U2; we have to go away and dream it all up again." Jackson: Okay, hold on. This is the part of rockstar memoirs that always gets me. "Oh, we're too successful, it's such a burden!" Is this just a classic humblebrag, or was there a genuine crisis happening? Olivia: It was absolutely genuine, and it created a huge rift in the band. He tells this amazing story about being at a house party, grumbling to Adam Clayton that they hadn't really "made it" yet. And Adam, who is just trying to enjoy the party and the fruits of their labor, is completely baffled. Jackson: I can see Adam's point of view. What does "making it" even mean if being the biggest band on the planet isn't it? Olivia: Exactly. Adam lays it out for him. He says, "'It' is getting to do what we’ve always wanted to, while selling a boatload of albums. ‘It’ is all these Grammys. ‘It’ is living this life." He’s celebrating the destination. But for Bono, the destination was a trap. Jackson: That makes more sense. It’s a real philosophical split. Adam is the pragmatist, and Bono is the restless artist who is terrified of becoming a nostalgia act. He’s afraid of becoming a monument. Olivia: A monument is the perfect word for it. Bono felt that their success had become this giant, revered thing—the Joshua Tree itself—and he was terrified of it. He has this incredible line where he says, "I was starting to feel it was time we cut down the Joshua tree, before someone else showed up with their chainsaw." Jackson: So he wanted to preemptively destroy their own image before the public or the critics did it for them. That's a high-stakes gamble. What did that even look like in practice? How do you 'cut down the Joshua Tree' without just... quitting? Olivia: You make Achtung Baby. You trade in earnest anthems for irony, leather, and industrial noise. You completely deconstruct your sound and your image. They went to Berlin to reinvent themselves and almost broke up in the process because it was so difficult. But that act of creative surrender, of letting go of the formula that made them famous, is what allowed them to survive and stay relevant for another thirty years. Jackson: It’s the difference between protecting a legacy and building one. Protecting it leads to stagnation, but building it requires risk, and sometimes, destruction. Olivia: And their manager, Paul McGuinness, saw the danger too. He warned them, "It would be a shame to look like a band too stupid to enjoy being at number one." He understood both sides—enjoy the success, but don't let it make you complacent. Don't become a self-parody.

Jackson: It’s fascinating. Whether it's facing death on an operating table or facing creative death at the top of the charts, the core idea here really is 'surrender.' Olivia: Exactly. But the book makes it clear that this isn't a passive, weak surrender. It's an active and incredibly brave choice. He surrenders the illusion of his own control to find a deeper truth. He realizes his voice isn't just his talent; it's a physical gift of 'air.' He realizes U2's identity isn't a sacred monument to be polished, but something that has to be constantly challenged and reinvented. Jackson: It makes you think about the 'Joshua Trees' we all cling to in our own lives. That job title, that relationship, that identity that feels safe and successful, but is actually the very thing holding us back from whatever is next. Olivia: That’s the universal thread in the book. It’s not just about being a rockstar. It’s about the human condition. He quotes his wife Ali, saying, "Rather than falling in love, we were climbing up toward it. We still are." It’s this idea that nothing worth having is a destination. It’s a constant process of becoming, of surrendering the past to make way for the future. Jackson: That’s a powerful thought to end on. It’s not about arriving, it’s about the climb. And sometimes the climb requires you to go back down the mountain to find a new path up. Olivia: It poses a really challenging question for all of us: What is the one thing you're most proud of, the one thing that defines your success, that you might need to let go of in order to truly grow? Jackson: That’s a heavy one. We'd actually love to hear what our listeners think. What's your 'Joshua Tree'? The thing you might need to surrender to find your own 'Achtung Baby'? Find us on our socials and let us know. It’s a fascinating idea to chew on. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.