U2
October

"October, 
 And the trees are empty coffins  
of all their clothes.
Why should I care?
 October.

 And kingdoms rise, and kingdoms  fall,
but you go on. And on"

Yes, October. What better month to talk about this timid work?

1981. An autumn morning in Dublin. It's cold, a cat occasionally passes by to glance at some old fisherman on the barges anchored in the harbor. The water is still.

In the background, the gray buildings blend into the fog, some tired workers leaving their homes. There's some unsavory people in the alleys. It's a lost atmosphere, almost timeless. Paul, Adam, Dave, and Larry are 4 guys just over twenty. Recently, they have been making music and have a contract. In reality, they are a bit adrift, they are nice, but they don't play very well. Moreover, Island has commissioned them a second album but the singer (one who calls himself Bono) has lost all the sheets with the songs. It also seems that the band is experiencing a certain phase of creative crisis. It's hard to write, and the young Bono and Edge's heads are tangled up with the extremist beliefs of the religious sect "Shalom," whose meetings they have recently started attending.

 In short, "October" was not exactly born under the best conditions. To date, it is the least known album of the band and probably (but unfortunately as well) also the most snubbed by U2 themselves. It contains practically no hits, and it is somewhat difficult to digest: well, in a few words, a "different" episode in the context of the Irish band's production, and for this reason interesting to listen to and analyze in its many nuances.

Indeed, there are many interpretations given to it. Personally, I see it as a painting, a painting with dull hues. "October" in my view is a journey between restlessness and confusion within a melancholic winter frame: its songs are among the foggiest and introverted of the entire U2 career. There's no innocence of "Boy," nor the anger of "War," there's something else unclear, like an invisible framework of pain that ties every piece together. A sort of passage between adolescence and maturity, which, although already present in the previous album, here shows itself in a much more intricate and at times tragic manner. The songs allow themselves very few breaths of serenity and dig very deeply into the dark part of human thought.

"October" is not, and will never be, considered a masterpiece. But it is a sincere work that holds tightly to its moments of class, and therefore deserves respect. An album that ages well like wine, preferably served in cold seasons.