Behind the Mask - A Sequel (of Sorts) to A Star Is Born

The Last Show

The Last Show

The Showbox opened as a ballroom and theater just before World War II, and in the time since, it had seen acts ranging from Duke Ellington to Pearl Jam. Virgin had it reconfigured as a dinner venue with tables, to make the setting more intimate. I took Sarah and Olivia as my dates. Bono came on after dessert, when the tables had been cleared and our friends were well into their refreshments.

There are few individuals whose charisma can envelop a room as Bono can. When he first walked on stage, the din of conversation came to a halt. And then, he began. "I want to apologize," he said, as the audience looked bewildered. "I have come here under false pretenses." Hushed murmurs picked up as puzzled guests tried to decipher his message.

"My real purpose tonight is to reintroduce you to some people you already know, through their music. I know my message is confusing to you, but its meaning will soon become clear."

Hektor had really outdone himself in pulling together the lighting, sound, video backdrops and choreography. We decided to draw out the suspense with a long buildup, taking care that the early bits did not directly signal who we were. The band and a dozen backup singers and musicians were scattered throughout the room, seated at tables as if they were just dinner guests. We started with a medley of five of our most well-known songs. Juan began with a few notes on keyboard, Brian followed on guitar, our bandmates (who had never seen our faces) and the backup singers came in on cue, standing up as their parts began. The crowd registered each song with familiarity, together with a mix of excitement and confusion about why we were all here to listen to a cover band.

We decided to keep my role a secret until as far into the medley as we could. I watched with pride as our family and friends slowly started to realize what they were witnessing might not just be covers of some of their favorite songs. Brian nailed his most complex riffs. Juan's fingers danced on the keyboard. Bono jumped in, leading the choruses, to wild applause.

And then came "Olivia." We had decided to finish the medley with our best-known song. As the final notes of Swallow's Turn tapered off, I stood up and the lights turned to me. Sarah and Olivia, who were seated at my table, looked stunned. I started in the middle of the song for effect, coming straight into the chorus' hardest part, a bellowing, anthemic note. The room went silent, then erupted in cheers. Our secret was out. And for kicks, we had a video backdrop of the iPhone Black Mask detector app that once taunted me; for once, the detector got it right, showing 99.9%.

The rest of the night was unforgettable. We played most of our catalogue with a backdrop of videos meant to explain the meaning of our songs. Living Life was the song that brought it all together. Interlaced with lines such as "They say that the old king is dead, there's a new king" we showed pictures of the band sitting around the barn studio with copies of magazines bearing covers pronouncing some new act as "The Next Black Mask?" We brought the audience into our fears by playing clips from the traumatic Wembley Show incident – "Just as life seems all there, next you know the walls are closing in and there is no air." And we replayed the moment when we all got emails from Phil with the coded warning that forces await our heads on a silver plate, replete with me knocking coffee onto my keyboard. That song/video montage did more to explain why we had kept our secret from our friends than anything I could have told them in words.

As the evening ended, we were besieged with friends and family wanting to offer their thanks and support, and somehow, I lost track of Sarah. An unsettled feeling set in, as all my fears about the pernicious effect of fame and music made me worry they could nip our relationship in the bud.

Open Road Ahead

We never played another show after that evening, and once the initial burst of fame tapered off, the media lost some of its interest, moving on to the next big thing. I don't know where life will take me next, or how things will work out with Sarah. But I do know that our anonymity bought us time to find out who we were, letting us come to grips with fame and music on our terms. I wish my father had been given the same chance. Maybe his life was meant to serve as a warning. Maybe that was his gift to me.