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by Michka Assayas


  Have you ever gambled in Vegas or Monte Carlo, just for the adrenaline rush?

  Very occasionally.

  Did you win or lose?

  I’ve been very lucky, and very unlucky. Funny, that. But I don’t do it very often. I’m fascinated by casinos for other reasons. Faith versus Luck. It’s a favorite subject.

  Funny. I thought you were one hundred percent on the side of Faith.

  Yeah, but I like to know what I’m up against. Luck is the opposite, if not opponent, of Faith. But let me illustrate by a complete contradiction. I had a very strange experience many years ago. A friend of mine was getting married, and he was broke. So was I. And I knew somewhere that somehow, some way, I was going to be able to help pay for his wedding. I didn’t know how, but I knew I would be. I was like a child that believed that every prayer would be answered. I haven’t really changed in that. I think every prayer is answered, but unfortunately, “No” happens much more than we’d like. [laughs] I didn’t know that then. So I thought to myself in my naiveté, in my childish way: “Oh, you know, at the back of a corn flakes box, they have these competitions and you can win a car. Maybe I should send away one of those. I bet I will win and I’ll give him the car.” Anyway, I never did send the back of the corn flakes box, and his wedding was getting closer and closer. I thought in my daftness: “I’ll win it on a horse . . .” So the Grand National, which is the biggest race in Ireland, was coming up on the weekend. I said: “That’s it. OK, I just need to get a tip.” Anyway, I’m just getting to know Ali’s parents. We were still kids, we were like eighteen or nineteen, actually. So when they asked us to go away for the weekend with them to County Cork, it was a big deal. Ali was excited; I was nervous: one, because they were sussing me out, and two, because we might miss the race. So we were both nervous. I was thinking: “Oh, damn! The Grand National. I won’t be able to go.” But on the afternoon of the race, we found ourselves in a pub called the Swan and Signet, in Cork. So I was sitting there, thinking: “What am I to do? There’s only fifteen minutes to go. I haven’t a clue about horses,” when—I’m not kidding—this kind of tramp, some odd character, walked out of the gents with a dog, and gave me a tip. I can’t remember, unfortunately, the name of the horse. Something like Rolled Gold: “Rolled Gold for the National!” he whispered under his breath. So I went: “There it is. OK, I’ve got the tip.” I turned around, swallowed hard, and said to Ali, her father and mother: “Look, I know this sounds mad, but I’d really like to make a bet in the Grand National.” And they said: “Really? But aren’t you broke?” I said: “I’d just like to put a pound on it.”—“All right, OK. If you really want to.” They were kind of disapproving, but we went to the bookies, and I sneakily put twenty pounds on Rolled Gold. So we went in, and I had twenty pounds. There was, I think, two pounds tax. I put eighteen on the horse. It was ten to one, this horse. After we left the bookies, I told them the story: I have a friend, he’s getting married, he’s broke. I want to give him the money, and I’ve had this feeling I’d be able to help him. I was so sure of the tip. And they said: “What?” And I said: “Yeah.” And they just looked at me with the kind of half smile parents have when their daughter brings home the wrong boyfriend. I told them I didn’t even want to watch the race. I was so sure of myself. Is this Faith? I don’t know. You tell me. Then we went off for a walk. Two hours later, Ali’s father, Terry, said: “Do you want to go back and see who won the National?” I said: “No, I’m not in any rush. I know who’s going to win.” And so, three hours later, we went back. I can’t remember how much it was—nearly five hundred pounds. I gave it to my friend, and he got married. It was a funny one. Ali’s father gets a laugh out of telling that story. I’m not sure what to make of it myself. Proof God has a sense of humor . . . A fluke? A cautionary tale about blind faith? Or, if you do—somewhere in the back of your subconsciousness—know some funny stuff . . .

  So was it Faith or Luck?

  I like to think Faith.

  So, back to the Elevation Fund. I’m really curious to learn about your strategy with the music industry. There is a part of the Wall Street Journal piece that really puzzled me: “Elevation’s expected to look for investment opportunities in media and entertainment companies disrupted by the advent of the Internet and other digital technologies. Music, movies, publishing, and other traditional media industries are grappling with how to exploit new distribution means—including the Internet and cellular phones—while stemming piracy that such technologies enable.” Stemming piracy? How will you pull that off?

  [laughs in slow motion like a Frenchman] Just for once, Michka, could you not ask the hard question? The “how” is not clear, but I can answer the “why.” Look, there’s a moment when you can feel a tremor in the ground underneath your feet. And then there’s another moment when there is no ground underneath your feet. We are about to enter a phase with music and film, where everything is changing, where things like the way music is bought and sold will change the kind of music that is bought and sold. As an example, in the downloading of music, pop kids are not buying the whole album. They’re just cherry-picking the best songs off the Internet. With pop music, they made the money on the album, not on the single. The single just lured the young kids to buy the album, half of which would be of no interest.

  But kids aren’t buying these albums anymore. I mean, mine don’t. My son, who’s fourteen now, is quite content with Nirvana’s back catalog. And my daughter, who’s eleven, developed a passion for an old Bangles album. I don’t know about yours, but my kids don’t seem to be great consumers for the music industry, yet they’re big fans of music technology.

  Madonna didn’t want to sell her songs individually online because she felt that she’d made albums, and she didn’t want people to be able to just break in and take a few songs, which I understand. But it’s a little like King Canute, the king who sat with his chair in front of the waves and told the tide not to come in. Because people are cherry-picking your songs, whether you like it or not. Like Madonna, U2 will be very, very anxious that people buy our whole album rather than cherry-pick the songs, but we still feel a commitment to let people make that decision for themselves.

  What’s been happening since How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb was released? Have people mainly been cherry-picking or buying the album?*

  I should find out the exact percentage, but I’m happy to report from this most downloaded band, most people want the album.

  Even though “Vertigo” has been the most downloaded song in the world in 2004, your point is that it affects rock music less than pop. I would say you and Madonna don’t exactly play in the same field.

  I would give Madonna more credit than that, but it is less of a problem in rock music than it is in pop. Rock fans have historically been more interested in an album format. So there is an example of how investment in pop will change if there’s no way to sell that audience the album anymore. That was where the music industry got its return. The amount of money that’s spent on promoting these kinds of pop stars will drop or be redirected to different genres where the album format is still alive. Take Norah Jones. She comes from jazz, she’s the most gifted interpretive singer around. She couldn’t be further from what they look for on Pop Idol; but she’s a sales phenomenon, because people over thirty are buying her records.

  Sure. They must be people like me. I’ve never figured out how to burn CDs.

  That’s exactly right. A lot of them don’t know how to download. There’s a huge audience there, that’s been ignored for years, whilst eighty percent of energy and cash is spent on marketing music to people under twenty-five. New distribution models are going to make the face of the music industry unrecognizable from what it is today. Another phenomenon is telephony. Telephony is changing the way we communicate: texting. The very syntax and design of sentences have been changed. Wait till you see what this will do to music: not just ring tones or true tones! You will be able to dial up any song at any time, watch the vide
o if you want, find out where the band is playing near you and buy tickets. What I’m really trying to say is: I’m excited about the future. It’s coming fast, and I don’t want to be run over by it. I want U2 to be a part of the future and a part in shaping the future. This opportunity with Elevation Partners is for me a chance to involve myself in the business that runs my life. I don’t want to be a casualty. I don’t want to be bullied by the business in the future. I heard a story. Jack Lemmon is in a meeting with a major Hollywood bigwig at the peak of his powers. He’s pitching something he’s been working on for years. This great genius of American cinema is halfway through his pitch, and the phone rings. Bigwig picks up the phone, goes: “OK, OK, I’ll be right with you. So, listen, Jack, project sounds great, we’re gonna have to get back to this. I’ve gotta go . . .” Jack is unceremoniously shuffled out of the building, because . . . [pauses for dramatic effect] Tom Cruise is coming in. Now, Tom Cruise would never want Jack Lemmon out of the building. He’s not that kind of person. But the story really stuck with me. And I thought, you can do all the best work in the world, but there’s a moment where some guy can just sit there and write you in or out. I don’t want to give that power to somebody.

  But don’t these people already have that kind of power over U2?

  No, not really. We’re in control now. But there may be a moment, in five or six years, I don’t know. We’ve got great people in the music company now, and we’ve got great relationships with them. Jimmy Iovine, who runs Interscope, the smartest and most successful music man of the last ten years, is like a blood relation. His commitment to us is way beyond business, and ours to him. But what if he wasn’t there? What if relations weren’t good with whoever was? U2 doesn’t want to be in that position. The last record before All That You Can’t Leave Behind was called Pop. Now, it sold, I think, 7 million albums or something, which is a huge success. But compared to what people were expecting, they were disappointed. Someone could have said: “Well, now, you know, it’s the end of the nineties. You guys have had your run. We’re not prepared to invest any more money in this.”

  Did you actually hear that?

  No, no. I’m just saying it could have happened. And then All That You Can’t Leave Behind would never have.

  So your point is, given what’s going on in the music business now, even the biggest sellers are in danger.

  I think the music business is really traumatized. On the one hand, I don’t think the music companies are making the best of their relationship with the audience. I think artist and fan have lost out in the music business. Neither benefited as they should have from the CD boom. The price of music went up because the price of production was at first high, but then it stayed there even when CDs were much more cheaply made. I think in the future there can be more for all three parties: more for the record company, more for the fan, and more for the artist, but only if we cooperate better together. Never has more music been listened to than today, in more locations. Instead of having one record player like they had in the seventies, in every American house, there is an average eight CD players. There is the car. People are listening to music when they’re moving. With iPods we have the most beautiful design icon for years. I’m very proud to say that U2 has its own black iPod. It is an embarrassment to me that it took a technology person, Steve Jobs at Apple, to sort out the biggest problem in the music industry—downloading music. Apple’s i Tunes have proved the point that people are prepared to pay for music online as long as it’s made easy and fun and reasonably priced. So I think the music business can prosper, but it’s going to have to rethink itself before it does so.

  But what makes you think it’s going to survive anyway? Look at what Prince did. He said: “We don’t need the record companies anymore. We just have to produce the music, and then we will distribute it through the Internet, so we won’t be feeding any parasites in the record industry anymore.”

  But he didn’t sell any records or CDs. Not enough anyway for an artist of his stature. That was a brave and bold move, but he underestimated how important all those people are in the process. They’re not parasites. They’re important. He used to have somebody going into NRJ* or Radio One and saying: “This new Prince single is great!” And they go: “How long hasn’t he been around? I haven’t heard anything from him . . .” And that guy goes: “No, it’s great. Listen to it.” And then, there’s somebody going into Virgin, Tower, or the FNAC† and saying: “Prince’s new album is amazing. I want to have a whole special shelf just for him. And I want to have a cardboard cutout of him.” And they go: “Well, I don’t know, we got Britney Spears coming through”—“No, no, Prince! He’s a great artist. We need him. Please.” They have a relationship. In Nice, or Paris, or Santiago, these are people working for you, working with you. These are important people representing us. The music business is necessary.

  But how will it survive in the world you’re describing?

  People will pay for downloads. What will happen is the download will be the paperback, and the CD will become like the hardback. But the CD, the object, will have to become a more interesting object. Instead of this little jewel box with twenty pages, this U2 album, we have a book to go with it—things you can’t download. We wanted to create the art object again. Sgt. Pepper’s, when it was released by the Beatles, wasn’t just a listening experience. It was an art experience of looking and owning this incredible Peter Blake artwork. So I think that will open a few new formats, different formats. Cynics say: why would they buy a thing you can get free by stealing it? Think about bottled water. You can get water out of a tap, without risking prosecution.

  Fewer people buy hardcover books than paperbacks, don’t they?

  Yeah, but a million people buy a twenty-five-dollar item. That’s a lot of money.

  How many will U2 sell?

  A million.

  But why are you investing in the business now? What’s the urgency?

  [vehemently] Because I want to understand it better! I don’t understand it as well as I can. I don’t like when I don’t know what’s coming round the corner. Some people are saying, when you turn that corner, someone’s going to mug you, right? I’ve worked for twenty years. And we own our master tapes, we own our copyrights. I don’t want that not to be worth anything. That’s for our children.

  So what’s your vision of the future? How far do you see? We were talking about chess. How many moves in advance can you come up with?

  Well, [clears throat] in music, the thing that I’m excited about now is how the iPod will turn into a phone. You will be able to carry your entire collection with you wherever you go on your phone. If the Internet is the freeway, your phone is the car. For the very first time, U2 is considering technology partners. We have to understand the way our music is going to be bought and sold, and the sort of systems of distribution. So now we’re on to meet phone companies. We want to meet the people in Vodaphone. We like the people at Apple. Jonathan Ive, the genius who designs for Apple, if he had a fan club, I’d be in it. As I told you, Steve Jobs made the downloading of music sexy with i Tunes, while the music business argued amongst themselves. He has created these beautiful objects that are Apple Macs. Even their commercials are great. We want to be in them, turn them into music videos.

  I guess I see what you’re getting at. But I’m not quite sure about a world where artists are becoming businessmen, and businessmen are becoming artists.

  The world would certainly look different. I mean, why aren’t people like this designing cars? The roads are filled with bad ideas, ugly objects with no femininity, no humor, no sex. If the job of art is to chase ugliness away, let’s start with the roads and the automobiles. Let’s get people like the Apple people on the case. I want to form relationships that are mutually beneficial rather than disadvantageous for U2.

  Are the other members of U2 following you on that?

  I think the band are getting extremely interested in this. These are people who’ve refused huge sum
s of money for relationships with commercial companies, just because they didn’t feel it was a real relationship. So a car company comes to us, offers us 23 million dollars for an old song. That’s a lot of money to turn down. We could have given the money away. As it happens, if it was another song, we might have said yes. But the song that they wanted, we just didn’t want to see it in a car commercial. We turned down another incredible sum of money from a computer firm for “Beautiful Day.” Worse than that, we liked the people involved. But we didn’t, at that point, want to be working for someone. We want to work with someone if they give us creative control. We can collaborate if you let us into your company to play with your scientists. We’re talking to various people. That was our manager’s first question to Carly Fiorina of Hewlett-Packard when they approached us: “Can Edge get into the lab?” And she said: “Yes.” I appreciate that all of this can look like megalomania. But what’s the alternative? Just to let the world go by? To be left behind, or worse: run over, lie down in the middle of the information freeway and get hit by a truck? And you know, the truck has a “For Sale” sign on it. Why? Because it used to be delivering CDs in the old model. [laughs]

  Aren’t you also involved in video games?

  Video games are now where the movies were in 1920, but they’re a much less passive medium. Fathers can play with their children. Dating will never be the same again, and with giant screens and Sensurround sound, it’s total immersion. It’s a new global art form. Language is a barrier in movies, not in video games.

  I hear in China, it’s the biggest thing.

 

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