U2’S PERILOUS LIFE AT THE TOP

What do you say to a young Irish band after critics on both sides of the Atlantic dub it the rock group of the ‘80s?

Before you answer, consider also that Pete Townshend has tabbed the same band as the one he sees in the best position to pick up the Who’s rock leadership reigns.

So, what do you say to Bono Hewson, 24, and the three other members of U2?

One thing is: Be careful.

“Band of the ‘80s” is the kind of praise that has buried lots of promising pop-rock contenders. Just check the cut-out bins for all the 39-cent albums by singer-songwriters who were once proclaimed the “new Bob Dylan.”

The danger is two-fold. Rock fans begin to expect more than the still-young band can deliver and, more crucially, the band members may start taking themselves too seriously and end up a caricature of what once excited people.

As it is, one member of the often cynical British pop press has already referred to Hewson as “God . . . errr--I mean--Bono Hewson.” The remark was a jab at both Hewson’s idealistic bent and the spiritually tinged intent of U2’s music.

Sitting in a West Hollywood hotel during the group’s recent three-day engagement at the Los Angeles Sports Arena, Hewson acknowledged the dangers of the group’s increasingly revered position in rock.

“We’re not trying to act like saints in the rock ‘n’ roll city--on any level,” he said. “I try and tell people, ‘How can you be the spokesman for a generation if you’ve nothing to say other than “help”?’ Listen to our songs, we’re not saying we have the answers to the world’s problems. We’re struggling to find answers and we make mistakes all the time. We’re always falling down.

“I think our audience recognizes that in us, and it’s one reason they can relate to us. I feel I’m way down the line in superhero potential. I’m not a rock ‘n’ roll stereotype. Look at me, I look more like an artisan than an artist. I have these big hands and this pointed face. Where’s the glamour in all that?”

Whatever his self-image, Hewson and U2 have moved into a position of leadership and trust in rock that few bands have approached in recent years. There’s an affection for this band that is reminiscent of the early days of groups like the Who and the E Street Band.

Even though U2 still hasn’t had a Top 10 single, it has moved in the last two years from being able to headline one night at a 15,000-seat arena here to selling out three arena shows and in position to have sold out two more shows if the tour schedule had permitted the longer stay here, according to a spokesperson for Avalon Attractions.

The recent breakthrough was especially impressive because it came on the heels of “The Unforgettable Fire,” one of the most elusive albums ever released by a band on the edge of rock stardom.

Though the uplifting “Pride (In the Name of Love)” gave the group a highly appealing single, the heart of the moody, atmospheric album was a daring career move away from the sure-fire rock explosives of U2’s “War” album and “Under a Blood Red Sky” mini-album, both of which sold a million copies. The introspective songs on the LP, co-produced by Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois, suggested an emotional and spiritual re-examination.

Explained Bono, “I do feel that ‘The Unforgettable Fire’ was the ultimate joker as opposed to the ultimate trump card for us. I thought that in this country, where some people were giving us that ‘future of rock ‘n’ roll thing,’ we really threw them for a loop because this album isn’t really rock ‘n’ roll at all.

“It’s out of focus in a rock world that thinks of itself as so very much in focus at the moment. You have to sort of stand back from the album to see what it’s really saying. Even some of our biggest fans were puzzled at first, but they’ve come to accept it and it is now even a bigger seller than ‘War.’ If we had tried to just duplicate the feeling of ‘War’ to keep that momentum going, we really would have begun to be cartoon characters.”

The contemplative tone of “The Unforgettable Fire” did catch the rock world by surprise last fall. After two promising but slightly directionless albums, U2 broke through to stardom in 1983 with an album (“War”) that looked with both anger and compassion on a wide range of social concerns, including the religious and political discord in the band’s native land.

The live show was even more commanding as Hewson went to dangerous extremes to forge a bond with the audience. At the US Festival in 1983, he carried a white flag of peace to the top of the huge stage scaffolding. (The incident has now become so celebrated in rock that the height of that climb is being described in miles rather than feet.)

At the Sports Arena a few months later, Hewson raced up to the upper deck and leaped to the main floor in a dramatic effort to build that communal feeling. Unfortunately, a few fans dove after him and there were no security guards waiting to break their fall.

Returning to the Sports Arena this month, he toned down the antics in keeping with the softer strains in the album. But it certainly didn’t reduce the intensity of the audience response.

Midway during the opening night concert, Hewson invited a fan on stage at one emotional point during the concert and embraced her. He didn’t dance with her a la Springsteen during his “Born in the U.S.A.” tour or kiss her the way many rock stars might. He simply held her.

The embrace occurred at the end of “Bad,” a song from the latest album that deals with drugs and other forms of addiction, including the way pop stars can be twisted by hero worship. Hewson sang the number so passionately that he seemed drained at the end and needed to re-establish human contact. On a larger scale, he was using the fan to symbolize his reaching out to the entire audience.

“I used to feel that I had to be in the audience to be a part of the audience,” he said. “I thought closeness with the crowd was achieved only through physical proximity. That’s what I was trying to get around at the US Festival because I knew I couldn’t actually go out into that audience.

“The thing about bringing a fan on stage started quite by accident. At one of the shows, someone kept calling me from the audience so I finally said come on up. I held on to her and she held on to me and I realized I wasn’t holding just one person, I was holding the whole audience. That was a lot better symbol that climbing into the balcony.”

About climbing into the Sports Arena upper deck, he said, “I really lost it that night. I went out into the crowd with the flag and then people started ripping at it and I actually got into a fist fight with someone in the crowd. That was the ultimate paradox to me--a man with a white flag in a fracas. I just said that if they don’t stop grabbing the flag, I’m going to jump over the ledge and they kept coming. I sat down with myself for a long time after that show and thought about what I was doing on stage.”

Hewson, who has a stereotypical Irish gift for gab, looks like someone who is in total control on stage, even keeping an eye out for overzealous security guards. Off stage, Hewson’s self-effacing. He doesn’t think of himself as articulate, though he has obviously thought a lot about most of the issues facing his band and rock.

The other members of U2--guitarist Dave (the Edge) Evans, bassist Adam Clayton and drummer Larry Mullen--maintain lower profiles, though they contribute much to the band’s forceful, yet elegant sound. The most distinctive musical feature of U2 is Evans’ high-harmonics guitar style.

One of those issues Hewson and the others are often asked about is the group’s spiritual consciousness.

Though the group’s religious views are not doctrinaire, there is a steady tone of spiritual awareness. Still, Hewson objects to references to U2 as a Christian band. Hewson, whose father was Catholic and mother was Protestant, questions organized religion and those who claim to live a Christ-like life.

“That’s a funny thing about rock,” Hewson said. “Spirituality is a topic that is taboo for some people, but I don’t think what we are saying is of interest only to Christians.

“I hate a lot of what I see--people who go around claiming they have the only answer and they are free from sin. It’s such a sham when people go around holding the Good Book to their breast or holding the baby up to the TV. It’s tragic that people have turned faith into an industry. It’s also tragic that the name of Jesus, which is precious to me, gets trampled on. They use it like a little badge.”

These are good times for U2, but Hewson is still filled with ambition. He’s not about to claim any titles.

“We spend a lot more time thinking about what we want to do rather than what we’ve already done,” he suggested. “That’s important because if you’re ambition is to play three nights at Madison Square Garden, you’re in trouble as soon as you do it. Our ambition is still out there somewhere, and we’re hungrier and thirstier than we’ve ever been.

“I really believe we are only beginning. I used to be more into atmosphere and textures and wrote words to fit them, but I’ve started to think about the actual song structure. ‘Pride’ was a stab at that.

“In Denver, the promoter, Barry Fey, came up to us and had this great line. He said, ‘Bono, I think you might be the biggest group in the world right now for a lot of people, but remember: You still haven’t written a ‘Hey Jude.’

“And I thought, ‘Yeah.’ I think we have been making music within the context of rock ‘n’ roll. And now I don’t just want to make music within that context. I want to make music that is more universal. I want to write our ‘Hey Jude.’ ”