Tom Dunne: From the Baggot Inn to Vegas... U2 have come a long way
Adam Clayton and Bono of U2: left in 1984; right in 2023. Pictures: Getty
U2 are back. They’ve unveiled a new song – 'Atomic City'- and are now days away from only their second-ever residency: U2 UV: Achtung Baby at the purpose-built MSG Sphere in Las Vegas, a venue built specifically for live performance and the Arts, reported to have cost €2.3 billion.
It is reputed to have 1.2 million LEDs, that will form the biggest screen on the planet. Plus “There are no speakers” says Bono “the entire building is a speaker, so wherever you are, you have perfect sound.”
Impressive, I admit, but will it surpass the heights of their previous residency, their first? Those six nights (PS: I think it was only four!) in 1979 at The Baggot Inn? Well, time, and this eyewitness to history, will tell.
The Baggot Inn was a class act. Owned and run by the ever-wonderful Charlie McGettigan it was Dublin’s premier live venue in the late 1970s. It was where every band aspired to play. Stepaside, The Lookalikes, all the greats.
By the time punk arrived it was home to blues bands, cover acts and the occasional original group that didn’t read the right music papers and didn’t know their time was up. Punk acts were not offered gigs.
Hence when a billboard arrived on the corner of Baggot Street and Ely Place one morning in August 1979, it was a double whammy: Not only two of Dublin’s best bands on one bill, but in the Baggot to boot.
Hand-painted, in huge letters it announced: “U2 – The Blades – The Baggot Inn – This Tuesday, 21st.” In a world in which social media was still decades away, it somehow went viral.
By lunchtime everyone who liked music in Dublin, all 22 of us, were making space in their diaries.
The pairing of U2 with The Blades was an exciting one. Two very different, but two very brilliant bands. There was a wild excitement about U2. Looking back, they remind me of a little of Cantona joining MUFC, if somewhat less imperious.
They say that on arrival at Old Trafford, he looked around and wondered “is this club big enough for me?” U2 somehow exuded that belief. They were always passing through, on the way somewhere, the Top, as it turned out.
The Blades were very different, all about gritty reality and gigs for Rock Against Sexism and the Dunne’s Stores strikers. The Magnet Bar on Pearse Street was their domain. It was Dublin’s premier punk venue in which they reigned supreme.
The doubleheader was mouth-watering.
Mouth-watering and problematic. I got into The Magnet because I knew a bouncer, and the other gigs were mostly all ages, or turned a blind eye.
I looked 14 and could never get served. I pleaded with the owner Charley and promised not to drink.
“You’d better not,” he said, “I’ll be watching you.”
Brush Shields described the Baggot as “dark and dank and wonderful.” He was right.
It had nothing to recommend it except what was happening on stage, which a few years later would include David Bowie!
The ceiling height on stage was so low punk bands – as I’d later discover – couldn’t even pogo.
I ended up standing on a seat next to the Virgin Prunes, of whom I was also a huge fan. Just having The Prunes at the gig made it cool, but they also weren’t above helping to whip the crowd up into a frenzy for their friends’ band.
The only thing I can remember about the gig was Bono’s polo neck. I got the impression he had actually thought a little about how he looked.
I realised my band had a way to go.
Gavin Friday, or maybe Guggi, punched me in the shoulder and said we were lucky to see such a band in venue like this. I knew he was right.
U2 were exceptional from the get-go. And as for The Blades, wow!
The MSG Sphere will have its work cut out for it. Will you be able to buy a kebab on the way home in the lane opposite the entrance?
Will you be able to get a 22 bus home to your parents to tell them “No, haven’t eaten” so they rustle up a toasted cheese sandwich for you? No, probably not that either.
I’m contemplating setting up a stand outside the arena. I will sit there under a hand-painted sign, saying, “Meet a genuine Baggot Inn Survivor, living U2 memorabilia, selfies $20, handshakes $50.”
