All language subtitles for Killing Bono (2011) BluRay

I always knew I'd be famous.

Back at school,
if you'd have told me that four of us...

would become the biggest rock band
on the planet,

I'd have asked
who the other three were.

I know what you're thinking.

Everyone wants to be a rock star, right?

Well, this wasn't some vague dream,
this was real.

I had it all planned out.

Form a band.

Release a series
of ground-breaking albums.

Tour the world's greatest stadiums.

Pull off the biggest rock and roll
invasion of America since the Beatles.

This life that I had going on
inside my head.

It wasn't my life at all.

It never was. It was his.

He rises, I fall.

He just gets bigger and better.

I suck up all the shite luck
that never goes his way.

Hey, is that the... It is!

No!

Get out of the way.
You out of the way, now there. Go on.

I always knew I'd be famous.

What you brought that thing in for?
You'll have someone's eye out with that.

- I've got a lesson with Mr. Rowland.
- What, that fogey old fart?

What's he gonna teach you,
a punk rock version of "Danny Boy"?

Yeah, maybe.

Hey, Paul.
Paul, what's the craic?

Larry's putting a band together.

Oh, great.

- Who is Larry?
- Larry Mullen, two years below.

- Oh, nice axe, man.
- Oh, cheers.

Yeah, he saved all his pocket money
for three years,

- he's so rock and roll, aren't ya?
- Oh, yeah.

You should come and try out.

- Hey, they need a singer.
- You're looking at him.

You? It's bad enough having to
stand next to you in choir practice

singing like you've lost a bollock.

Besides, you... you really don't much
look like a front man, you know?

Oh, yeah?
What's a front man look like?

Yeah?

- Like me!
- Oh.

Sorry, Neil. Nice try.
But it's my gig.

There's plenty more bands out there.

See you on Top of the Pops, boys.

- G's my favourite key.
- Oh, sorry, yeah.

Oh, Jesus, lads. Make some space.
Mick Jagger didn't have to deal

with a bass in his face
and a drum kit up his arse.

Made it myself.
I got the design from a mag.

What, was it a bird spotting mag,
was it?

It looks like a duck
with a stick up its arse.

Do you really need a guitar as well?
You know you can't play it.

You can talk.

Jesus Christ, can nobody
play their instruments here?

Will you relax, Larry?
We've got Dave.

Give us a shot at yours, then.
I'll show you what it can do.

- Yeah, OK. Here.
- Just for...

OK. One, two.
One, two. One, two.

OK, come on, guys. Come on.
Can we just play something together?

- You know, at the same time, all right?
- OK, right. Whoa, whoa.

What do we know?

Um...

Do we know anything?
David Bowie, yeah?

- Yeah.
- Anyone heard the Ramones?

- Yeah, was that...
- The Clash?

Or how about Thin Lizzy?
Thin Lizzy?

- Yeah, yeah.
- Sex Pistols and Dire Straits.

OK, just forget I said that.

Right, lads, fuck it.
I've got it, right?

That's Iggy. I know that.
That's Iggy. Let's do it, OK?

One, two. One, two, three, four.

# Gimme some skin
Try to give me some skin

Whoo!

Yeah!

# My girlfriend, she got soul
Sucks all night on Lord Asshole

# She puts me right up her ass
She shoots speed, she smokes grass

# But I don't mind

# If your mind is gone
If you want my body

# Come on, baby
Now give me some skin #

Two chips, please.

Man, she was
definitely eyeing you up.

Every girl in school is acting like
you're made out of Mars bars.

That's band life for you, man.

Well, dip me in rock and roll
and throw me to the girls.

How's it going, anyway?

Apart from becoming
an overnight fanny magnet.

It's going great, you know? I can
finally see it all coming together.

We want Ivan.

What?

We want your brother on rhythm guitar.

Well, you can't have him.
On rhythm guitar or anywhere.

He's with me. Ivan's the lead guitar
and I head up the band.

- You've got a band?
- Yeah.

What are you called?

What are we called?
We're... we're called The, uh...

...Undertakers.
- The, Uh, Undertakers?

Yes.

Well, good on yous.

- You've certainly got the mouth for it.
- Fuck off.

And I can see your face on the posters.

Yeah, you too.
That's if the teeny boppers go in

for that mop-haired, leaping gnome
sort of thing.

Listen, so I just tell Ivan straight
he didn't get in, yeah?

No, no. Leave it with me.

He's my brother.

You don't have to say a word, OK?

Yeah.

Yeah, sure.

Listen...

...we're doing a gig next month.
Maybe you boys should support us?

Maybe you should support us.

Maybe we should support each other.
Equal billing. Shoulder to shoulder.

- Your band and mine, brother.
- Taking on the world together!

So, have yous got a name yet?
What about the McCormick Brothers?

That's not very punk, is it, Dad?
We'd sound like a folk band.

We'd have to grow beards
and live in a commune.

We're called The Undertakers,
Mr. McCormick.

Yeah, Frankie is Frankie Corpse.
Ivan, is Ivan Axe.

I'm Eric Cadaver.

No. You're still Hopeless Eric.

And Kev over there is Kevin Carcass.

I wanted to be called Jonny Durex,
but I was afraid it'd upset me ma.

She's gotta know what a Durex is, son,
or you wouldn't be here.

- What's a Durex?
- I'll tell you later.

Six years later.

You'll be needing
punk hair-dos.

I'll do them for you. No point
in wasting money at the barbers.

Yeah, but we can do without
all that swearing... and the vomit.

We've our first gig next week. It's with
Paul's lot, they're called The Hype.

Oh, yeah, the band I almost joined.

Next week,
we'll blow them off the stage.

And then you'll be glad
you stuck with your big brother.

It's lovely to see
the two of you working together.

It's just a different sound.

Yeah, yeah.
It's a whole new quality, it's great.

Hey, lads. What's going on?

Oh, Paul was just talking to me
about second guitar.

Was he?

And what was he saying?

We decided we don't need one, so...

- No hard feelings, hey, Ivan?
- No, you're grand.

Course not.
He plays lead for The Undertakers now.

Never mind second guitar.

Why are we second billing?

Hey? You said we'd be equal.

Well, we're both on the banner.
The Hype and The Undertakers.

- Are we?
- Well, look at it this way.

It gives you a chance
to steal our thunder.

- That's Neil McCormick?
- Yeah, that's him there.

OK, guys,
you're the support act, right?

So, four songs, then clear the way
for the headliners.

What? Who put him in charge?
Who's that? Who are you?

Oh, this is Paul McGuinness,
our manager.

Look, man, I've gotta go and do
a sound check here, yeah?

One, two. One, two.
One, two. Check.

Yous look like you're bricking it.

- All right, Plugger?
- Fifty P a pop, right?

Purple ones are uppers.
Green ones are downers.

I don't know
what the white ones are for,

but you shouldn't take them
with alcohol.

What are you, Plugger?
Their dealer?

- I just get paid to hump the gear.
- One, two. One, two. One, two.

- Well, a manager and a roadie!
- Check. One, two.

One, two. One, two.
One, two. Perfect.

# Oh!

# Why don't you ask them

# What they expect from you?

# Why don't you tell them

# What you are gonna do

# You get so lonely

# Maybe it's better that way

# It ain't you only

# You got something to say

# Do anything you wanna do

# Come on

# Do anything you wanna do #

# And I'm promising nothing

# I'm just living a smile

# I casually arrange it

# I walk tall
Walk in the wild wind

# I live an image of plastic and gold

# Some say maybe tomorrow

# A resurrection, hello
I know, know, know

# Well, I know, know, know
Well, I know, know, know

They're sounding tight, man.
Their drummer can actually drum.

- They're even playing their own stuff.
- Huh?

I said they're playing their own stuff.

Well, we can write our own songs too.

Plus, we'll have something
that they'll never have.

Brotherhood.
Neil and Ivan McCormick.

Well, Ivan and Neil. It's alphabetical
like Lennon and McCartney.

Bollocks.

- I'm older, I'm going first.
- Whoo!

# Oh!

# I need something

# I need someone

# I've got you

# Street mission

# Street mission

# Street mission #

Good night!

You big riot, ya.

Neil McCormick here with home-grown
rock sensations The Hype,

still sweaty from
a blistering live show.

So, boys, tell us. Where do you see
The Hype in say five years time?

Five years?
The Hype'll be history.

- What?
- What?

What?

Why? You boys
were fucking amazing tonight.

You said that this was what
you wanted to do forever, like.

- Yeah.
- It is.

So we're changing our names
to something good.

Oh?

You're looking at U2.

U2?

U2?

That is so...

...shite!

Thank you, Neil.
I didn't want to say it.

It sounds like a bleeding submarine.

- And we're changing our names.
- What?

Dave wants to be known as The Edge.

What, like, Edge Evans or Dave Edge?

Just The Edge.

The edge of what?

And from now on, he's Bono.

- Bono?
- Bono!

Bono?

Yeah, yeah, it's good, it's good.
I could be... Biro.

- I could be The Hedge.
- Stop taking the piss.

At least I'm not the one jumping
up and down on stage wearing these.

- Would you look at the state of him?
- Hey, hey, hey, hey.

You fucking poser.

He likes 'em. He likes 'em.

# Dreams are making a mess of me

# They say I'm like a ghost
but they don't understand

# I'm the haunted not the haunting

# I need to get some peace

# I'm walking in my sleep #

If I'm honest, Neil, I don't get
half the stuff you sing about.

Your lyrics are a bit weird, Neil.

Well, next you'll be telling me
that Bob Dylan's weird.

Is Bob Dylan weird, is he?
Or Leonard Cohen?

- Yeah.
- Yeah, very weird.

Ah, nice of you to swing by.
Who needs a lead guitar anyway?

Check this out.

- What the fuck?
- Look at it.

- It's really real.
- Just watch the corners.

It's really happening for the boys.

- Oh, my God.
- Take it easy with it.

Yeah, but Rolling Stone magazine
reckons it's pretty mediocre.

Oh, man. This could have been
my first album.

In your dreams, man.

No, I was nearly in the band.

No, you weren't.
You stood in Larry's kitchen once.

That's his great claim to fame.

Well, at least I auditioned for them,
Neil. That's more than you ever did.

Where'd you get this anyway?

- Oh, I bumped into Bono.
- What?

Down at The Vinyl Frontier.

- I played him our demo.
- Great.

So now he'll pinch all my lyrics
for his next album, will he?

He reckons he can get us signed.

- Signed?
- Signed, signed.

- What?
- Yes!

We can get out of
this bleeding garage, boys.

And you wanna follow
in their footsteps?

No. We are not playing
catch up with U2.

Not now. Not ever.

We'll do this our own way.
And we will get our own deal.

Well, hang on. I don't see
that happening here, Neil.

Yeah, well, I can make it happen.

Yeah, when?
Where are you going?

I just told you.
To make it happen.

Jesus.

Jesus, it's the U2 fucking fanzine
in full effect.

- Do you want a Bono pin-badge?
- Do I bollocks?

Well, would you
look at that, Maureen?

A rare sighting of our
most elusive scribe, hmm?

How's the work allergy?

Hey, Niall, don't come all
proddy work ethic with me.

I'm not the one
pretending to be disabled.

Hey. The insurance pay-out
on this little baby pays your wages.

So where have you been, Lord Byron?
Fannying about penning poetry again?

Actually, I've been in the studio,
yeah? Laying down some new tracks.

Besides, I've already filed
my article for this week.

Yeah, but it was meant for last week.

Lucky you can write,
that's all I can say, hmm?

"In his search for the singular identity
in the landscape of the bland,

Adam Ant has somehow evolved
into a post-punk,

Dick Turpin with a pirate fetish".

I like that.
"Landscape of the bland".

Yeah, well, I thought it preferable
to "a sea of shit".

Are you giving it the cover?

No, I think Ireland's hottest band
just pushed it out.

What? Gary's U2 piece?

It's only Gary's U2 piece
'cause you turned it down.

You picky bastard.

Thanks, I am standing right here,
you know?

Yeah, and I didn't want
to give it to a rookie.

- Yeah.
- Well, it's weird, but I...

It's weird,
but I didn't really much fancy

talking to my old school mates about
how brilliantly amazing they are

and how much hot sex they're getting,
you know?

Yeah, there's a little bit more to it
than that.

Yeah, I bet. "U2 are brill.
And hasn't Bono got lovely hair.

And he's dead good at singing
and that".

You're just jealous 'cause no one
writes about your poxy band.

Oh, really?

Ah, Jesus.
Neil, not more fucking demo tapes.

You've already carpet-bombed
every poor bugger in my address book.

That's not true, actually.
I've only gone up to P.

Look, look.

I know the owner of a place in town,
and I could get you a slot if...

If you cover the Horse Slips gig for me.
Quid pro quo.

No way. Their singer still wants to
murder me after that last piece I wrote.

Where's the venue?

- McGarrety's.
- Fuck off!

- Fuck off!
- I hope you said yes.

Of course I said yes, it's McGarrety's.
Legends are born in the place.

- When is this?
- Next Saturday.

Hold on. That's the day
the Pope is in town.

- I'm sorry?
- The Pope?

Wears a big popey hat.
Drives a popemobile. He's the Pope.

Who's gonna go and see the Pope?
It's only the Pope.

- It's not like it's anyone good.
- I'm going.

I'm an altar boy.

Fuck off!

Eric, who do you wanna be
in ten years time, eh?

Keith Moon? Rocking out
with the biggest band in the world?

Neck deep in girls and booze
and drugs, yeah?

Or a piss-poor,
30 year old altar boy,

who sits in at the weekend
and pulls his winky?

Didn't Keith Moon die?

Listen, Eric...

I am asking you to make a choice.

It's me or God.

I can't believe the Pope
fucked our band.

I never liked him. He has no
appreciation of the live music scene.

And not a single person here.

Bugger me. The McCormick's?

Yous great pair of arse bandits.

What are you doing here, Plugger?

Me boss, Danny Machin,
runs security here.

I keep the eejits in line.

Well, when they show up I do.

What? Danny Machin the criminal?

He prefers enpreteneur.

He doesn't mind if I deal a bit of gear
on the side, you know?

So, if you want anything.
Coke, acid, weed, I'm your man.

No, you're all right, Plugger, but...

It's good to see you've
done well for yourself.

And those tossers at Mount Temple
said I'd never amount to shite.

What about Bono and the lads, yeah?

- Away to the big time.
- Yeah.

We should have stuck with them,
we'd be getting a ride every night.

Hey.

Hasn't your man, Machin,
got a venue or two of his own?

No, Neil.
He'll cut off our balls.

Could you put in
a word for us, Plugger?

You know, maybe get us a gig
for old time's sake?

Sure.

Leave it with me, lads.
I know just the place.

I don't like this. I've never been
this far out of Dublin before.

# Sleep keeps playing tricks on me

# Dragging out the day
while I'm waiting for the night

# Darkness got a fix on me

# Playing with the silence
I'm trying to keep it quiet

# Shake your dreams from your hair

# When the break up comes
you're going to be nowhere

# And I'll meet you there

# When the circle's complete
I'll take you walking in my sleep

# In my sleep

- # I'm walking in my sleep
- # Walking in my sleep

- # I'm walking in my sleep
- # Walking in my sleep

# Wake up #

Ow!

- Thank you.
- Thanks very much.

What a crowd.
You guys were great.

God almighty. Oh.

How are you?
Can I have a whiskey, please?

- Whiskey. Thanks.
- Ah!

Man, what a buzz.
That was great.

That was shite.
We died on our arses up there.

Maybe you would have noticed if you
weren't having some kind of fit.

- What was that?
- My moves.

Plus I got us our first headline gig.

Yeah, in an illegal titty bar,
in the arse end of nowhere,

run by a known killer.

This is Mr. Machin, lads.

What'd you think, Mr. Machin?

Godless, mindless and tuneless.

Still, you had the girls going.

I'm surprised you could hear anything
at all. The sound is shite in here.

You really want to get yourself a better
system if you want decent bands to play.

Yeah, well, when I find a decent band,
maybe I will.

Neil, we'll go. Shall we?

Come upstairs if you want your cut.
Just the cocky fucker.

The skinny one with the stupid haircut
can piss off.

He means you, Ivan.

Stay here.

- Hi.
- How's it heading? How're you going?

Fine.

You don't take your baths in here,
do you?

No. That's for people who annoy me.

You know, not many people talk to me
like you did back there.

There's always been that connection,
between gangsters and celebrities.

Oh, you're a gangster, are you?

'Cause you're sure not
a fucking celebrity.

It's only a matter of time.

I don't suppose you know anyone

looking to invest in
an incredible new band?

Why, do you know
an incredible new band?

Come on, you saw us play.
We just had the wrong crowd tonight.

But with the right crowd
and the right backer we can...

You know, when my girls
go on their break,

they usually duck out the back
for a fag and a go at the crossword.

Tonight, they were clocking you.

- Tea, Plug.
- Well, there you go.

There's money to be made in music.

Money that doesn't involve
someone getting buried.

I mean, look at U2.

I bet you wish you'd got in there before
the lawyers had them all sewn up,

and we're gonna be bigger than them.

Yeah, you're better looking than Bono.
I'll give you that.

Thanks.

But the... the question is,
do you want in?

- Five grand.
- Ten would be more realistic.

I could do ten.

My ten buys me twenty-five per cent.

You don't get twenty-five per cent
of me that easy.

Is this my negotiating face?

OK, ten.
And a ticket to London.

I'll give you two tickets. One for you
and one for the skinny fucker.

And remember.
If you fuck with me...

...I will kill you.

OK, everyone your attention, please.
Wake up!

I've an important announcement
to make.

I am quitting.

I'm off to London
to become world famous.

Oh.

Oh, come on now.

Don't cry.

She's not crying over you,
you great fucking eejit.

What?

What's happened?
Who's done this?

Some sad... loner psycho.

That's how
you become famous fast, hmm?

Pull a trigger.

Remember listening to dad's
scratchy old copy of Abbey Road?

Yeah.

- First songs you ever learnt to play.
- Yeah.

It just makes you wanna pack it all in.

No. It makes you realise
how short life is.

I'm sick of waiting around
for shit to happen. I just...

It won't unless we make it.

How?

We get out.

We move to London.

What?

Where did all this come from, Neil?

Give me one good reason why not?

Because we're broke.

I've enough to cover us until we're
in London, signed and earning.

I filed a lot of articles
with Hot Press.

OK, well. I've got a girlfriend.

Well, they do have girls in London.

- Apparently.
- OK, look.

What about Bono's offer of a deal?

Are you just gonna
walk away from that?

If Bono thinks we're great,
we don't need him.

Oh, that makes loads of sense, Neil.

We go straight to the source.
To the majors. Atlantic. Columbia.

The McCormick brothers together.

Yeah, just... just fucking
hang on here a moment.

Look, you're asking me to
rip all this up and start again

just 'cause you say so,
when, you know, we're doing OK here.

- OK? OK, shite.
- Yeah.

There's one for the tombstone,
isn't there?

"Here lies Ivan, he was OK".

If you stay here, you'll spend the
rest of your life wondering what if?

And then, you will always be
a ninety-nine per center.

What?

What the fuck is that?
You just made that up.

No.

The bands who never make it.
The rock and roll graveyard.

Either you break on through
or you add your bones to the pile.

Yes, I am asking you to rip it all up
and start again.

Trust me, kid.

The world doesn't know it yet...

...but the next big thing

is lurking in an Irish backwater.

- Hey, here it is. Come on.
- OK, OK.

- Here.
- Hey, how's the hair?

Yeah. Yeah, cool.

# But some kind of loving
lasts forever

- # Some kind of loving
- # Turns to some kind of hatred

- # Some kind of loving
- # It gets you sooner or later

- # Some kind of loving
- # Locks your heart behind a brick wall

- # Some kind of loving #
- # Is no kind of love at all #

See, pop songs are usually about

fantasising about having sex
with hot women,

actually having sex with hot women,

or reminiscing about having sex
with hot women.

This one appears to be about rape.

On one level, yes.

But on another,
it's about existential angst.

Mmm. Right, well, either way
that's a pretty hard sell

for Top of the Pops, but I'm sure
we can sort that out later.

So, you do want to sign us, then?
Do you?

Well, that depends.

See, the music industry
is a very fickle business.

It's like a harem filled
with beautiful people

all fucking each other's brains out.

But outside there are thousands
of ugly, talentless lepers

all clawing their way in,
trying to get a piece of the action.

Which one are you?

Um...

The beautiful people.

Do you want in to the harem?

Yes, please.
Yes, I do. I do.

Well, OK then.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

And try and write a song
that doesn't have kids

reaching for their dictionaries.

And also, steer clear
of the whole rape area.

It's a bad area.

And... and The McCormick Brothers.
Change your name.

You sound like a fucking folk act.
Now get out.

Arrange an appointment. We'll come
back and squiggle a contract next time.

Go!

What?!

Well... I did say it would
be easy in London.

That wasn't easy,
that was a big fat piece of easy...

peasy fucking lemon squeezy cake,

given away free,
with today's Easy Times.

Come here, you beauty!
We just got signed.

- We got signed.
- Yes!

You'll need to know my rules,
of course.

No drugs.

Unless, of course, shared with
the landlord to supplement the rent.

Mmm.

And no outlawed sexual practices.

Unless ditto the above.

- Wow.
- Yeah, cosy.

Perfect for band practise though.

Ah. Budding rock stars.
I might have known.

I've shot a lot of pretty boys like you.

Is that legal in this country?

In between my fashion work.

- Oh, you're a photographer.
- Was. Now I'm just growing old.

Disgracefully.
Pickling myself for posterity.

One party at a time. Oh, if you do
take the place, by the way,

you'll have to get used to
my parties.

Tell me...

...how long have you two
been together?

Well, they've been together
for about four years, now.

- They formed at school, so...
- Not U2, you idiot.

Us two. We...

We've... we've been together
since we were boys, Karl.

- Yeah, that is a long time.
- Yeah, well, obviously. We are...

Ivan? Band meeting. Now.

I want it, it's incredible.
Think what we could do with this place.

There's no furniture.
It's a fucking factory.

Plus, I think he's weird. Plus, I think
he wants to stick his thing in me.

- Exactly.
- What?

He is looking for
a certain type of tenant.

I can feel a deal here.
All we have to do...

Is what? Is be his rent boy,
and he'll drop the rent? No, Neil.

Seriously, if you do this,
I'm off back to Ireland.

OK, OK, OK, OK.

- I'll tell him. I will tell him.
- OK, do.

Hi, Karl!

Oh, hi, Gloria.

That's Gloria. Lives next door.

- We'll take it.
- Oh.

Boys, boys.

Oh, well, look at you.

Somebody's been raiding
Spandau Ballet's closet, haven't they?

- Gloria?
- Hi, Karl.

Come and meet your neighbours.

- Hello, neighbours.
- Oh, you're American.

How did you guess?
Was it my accent?

Sorry, this is Ivan. Sometimes
he acts like he lives in a field.

Oh, and this is Neil. Sometimes
he acts like a massive nobhead.

Gloria used to be in your game.

- That's the original punk rocker.
- Cool.

- So you boys are in a band?
- Yeah.

Oh, good. I guess that would
explain the costumes.

- These aren't costumes.
- No, we always dress like this.

Hey, Ivan. Why don't you go
and get us some beers?

Yes. Come along, tiger.

Let's get you socially lubricated.

Yeah, go on, tiger.

- Hi, guys. I want you to meet Ivan.
- Hiya, girls. How's it going?

Ivan, never mind the girls.
Meet the boys.

This is Mervin and Joshua and Raphael.

Oh, you've met him before.
Gwen, love.

So, you're a punk?

Am I?

Well, that's what Karl said.

Plus, before,
I saw your... t-shirt.

Not now, before. The Ramones.
Good choice. Good choice.

Sorry. Is that a bit...

...a bit creepy, me remembering that?
A bit too stalker?

- Yep.
- Right.

Right.

- Fancy a toot, love?
- Oh.

Thanks, love.

- That hit the spot?
- Uh-huh.

Gloria.

Don't hog the boy.
He's got to spread himself around.

I'm telling people they're the next U2.

Only better looking.

And gay.

Oh, the gay U2. Has a certain ring
to it. Don't you think, Neil?

It's OK, Karl. He's all yours. I was
just leaving, I have a play to go to.

- Bye.
- Gloria.

I leave you alone for five minutes and
you're snorting drugs at a gay party.

- What would mam say?
- I know.

- Has he got any more, do you think?
- Yeah, yeah.

And we're gonna be in the studio soon.
We're gonna be doing a music video.

Like those big fuck off, snow white
palace in all the snow, like.

Except for we're naked.
Except for we're wearing fur.

And everybody's dancing,
everybody's thinking about

having sex with each other.
But no, wait.

Everybody is actually
having sex with each other.

You, me, everyone in the whole video,
all up in Iceland and stuff.

Fucking hell, look, he's snogging
that bird now. Get off her!

Jesus. Oh, shit.

Would you mind if we did it
with the lights off?

I hope that shag was worth it, 'cause
we're late for signing our contract.

Maybe I'm getting heartache. I'm feeling
a bit worried 'cause of the coke.

- I think I'm feeling a bit hyper.
- Will you shut up?

Hello.

Hi, where is Hammond?

- Are you the new runners?
- No.

No, no, we are not the new runners.
We're the McCormick's.

We're Hammond's new act, we're just
here to sign the old contracts.

Hammond's history. Axed.

Kept spunking cash into Kajagoogoo.

I'm the new Hammond.

- What?
- No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

What was the last thing he said
before he left?

Let me think.

I'm gonna sue you bastards
right through the arsehole.

Then he sort of broke down.
It was all very uncool.

Yeah, but he did tell you
about our deal?

Yeah, and the fifty grand advance.

Oh yeah, it's ringing bells.
Ding-aling-ling.

But I'd say a hundred's
more realistic.

- A hundred grand?
- Yeah.

- I tell you what.
- What?

You boys will look
fucking fantastic on camera.

We'll do you a video
to rival Duran Duran.

OK, yeah.

And we'll shoot it on the moon.

What? Really?

No. Not really.

In fact, I'll tell you why you boys
will never be signed to this label.

You look like a pair of mental
fortune tellers from a gypsy fair.

And Hammond liked you.
Therefore, I hate you.

I wouldn't sign you to this label
if you paid me a hundred grand

and let me John Paul Pope your mother.

Don't hit me. Don't hit me.

You do not throw the McCormick's
out with the trash.

Did you hear me?

This means war!

Neil McCormick.

Neil, you're a hard bugger
to track down.

Did you listen to the new U2 album?

Yeah. Yeah... it's OK.

Never gonna knock Thriller
off the top spot though, is it?

Still, you told Mr. Machin
you'd be bigger than them

and you're still a pair of no marks.
Sharon, you're late.

He wants come back on his cash
or he'll cut yous off.

He says you're his biggest
cash haemorrhoid.

Haemorrhage, Plugger.
We're his biggest cash haemorrhage.

But I'm gonna sort it out.
That'll change.

Well, it better.
Don't make me come over there, Neil.

You know I get sick on that ferry.

Yeah, yeah. OK. Love you too.
OK. OK, love you. Bye.

- Who was that?
- Ma. She sends her love.

Take down those rejection letters.
They're not funny.

They're just a bad reminder.

Well, we only got the five today.

Oh, and a postcard
from Bono in Florida.

They just finished 48 shows
across America.

And get this.

They smoked cigars in Vegas...
with Sinatra.

Whereas we took on the music industry.

And got kicked up the arse
by everyone in town.

Let me remind you that this is not
a competition with U2.

Good, 'cause if it was we'd be getting
our arses kicked there as well.

Oh, come on.
We're pop, they're rock.

No. They're great and we're shite.

And now we're skint, too.

I'll be surprised if Karl
doesn't evict us.

And no, I'm not selling him my arse.

- We can get more money.
- Where?

Where's all this been coming from?

I told you. The savings.

You said it would be different here.

But all we've really done
is change the scenery,

and traded our band
for a fucking tape recorder.

Maybe we should just face reality,
and go home.

We can't leave now.

- We've only just started.
- Just started?

We've been standing still.
For months.

Going nowhere.

And that is where
we've been going wrong.

The business needs to see us live.

Instead of us going
to see the wankers,

we get the wankers
to come and see us.

We need to get a band together.

Where are we gonna find a band?

# Save your skin
and you start to believe me

# Lie, lie, lie
then you start to deceive me

# Kill the dreams like you
don't have a reason

# Cry

Hold on. Hold on. Shut up.

Hi, Gloria.

Gloria, this is the new band.

Band, Gloria.

Do you think you can try cranking it
down a few thousand decibels?

It's like flat sharing
with Napalm fucking Death.

Sorry.

Hey, Gloria. Aren't you supposed
to be on a theatre tour?

Here, I'll help you.
Let me do that. Grand.

My company folded so we're gonna
have to find some new way

to put up with each other without having
to resort to ear plugs. Or murder.

Listen, I'm really sorry, Gloria.
We'll try and turn it down.

You really don't have to leave.

Yes, I do. I have a job interview.

Go on, practice on me. What's
the first thing you want out of a job?

- You're not interviewing me, Neil.
- Oh, come on.

Oh, OK, I don't know...

The usual stuff:
pleasure, satisfaction.

What about a job that combines
pleasure, satisfaction

- and appeals to your love of music?
- Where are you going with this?

I thought if you can't put up
with us, you could join us.

I am not joining your band.

No, but you could be our manager.

Are you fucking with me?
Because I'm already running late.

No, I just thought that you know,
you know the scene,

and what with all your shite luck
at the theatre and everything,

you know, maybe we could combine
our shite luck,

and together we can make something
a little bit less shite.

That's tempting.

No, seriously,
you need the work, we need help.

We're made for each other.
We'll give you ten per cent.

Ten per cent of nothing is nothing.

Brilliant! See, you can do the maths
and everything.

Plus, you run a theatre,
so you know how to handle people.

Music people are very different.

Just start with the idea
they're all arses

and every so often you will be
pleasantly surprised.

Go on.

So, does the band have a name?

At the moment
we're stuck somewhere

between The Cheese Graters
and Lady Garden.

Wow. You really do need help,
don't you?

Let me think about it, all right?

Couldn't ask for more.

Well, you are the hottest label in town.

Surely you've heard of Shook Up?

You should hear the new stuff
they're coming up with.

OK then, I'll set a lunch.

# I drank all the tea in China

# I walked all the roads to Rome
A bit of this.

# I looked in the maps to find ya

That's pretty...
that's sounding good, actually.

It sounded good but we need
some juice. We need some moves.

# I need you in conversation

# I want you to be my friend

# Our love was a celebration

# Beginning is now at an end

# I'm on my own

# I can't be alone #

Pretty good.

OK, you've gotta stop beating yourself
up after every single gig.

I've been here before.
This is how it works.

Overnight success is a myth.

Is it?

Then how do you explain that?

What?

A million copies of the album sold.

A million.

That's like the population of
a small country jumping up and down

because they think you're great.

- To our ten.
- So, who gives a shit?

They're doing their thing.

You're doing yours.

What's your problem?

I stopped Ivan being in the band.

- What band?
- That band.

U2?

Yeah.

Jesus, Neil, how?

Well, we grew up with them back home.

They wanted Ivan.

I sorta hung on to him.

And then I lied to him.

And he still doesn't know.

Wow.

You total asshole.

It was before they were famous.

I thought we were gonna be
bigger than them.

That's why it's not enough for us
to just be OK.

We have to be... we have to be big.
We have to be really, really big.

So that I can look him in the eye
and I can say

"Are you glad you stuck with me?"

You must love him a lot.

Yeah.

But it's also the guilt.

You know how good
the Irish are at that.

So why'd you give up your band?

My ex took it.

It was kind of like a divorce.

He got the band
and I got my life back.

Mine was the better deal.

You were in a band with your ex?

What was it like, Sonny and Cher?

Ah, more like Sid and Nancy.

And then when he split back
to New York I swore that

I would never get involved
with anyone on the scene again.

Yeah.

But, I've always been a bit crap
with promises.

Do you wanna come in?

What, isn't that one of the perks
of being a rock star,

or don't you wanna have sex with me?

Now, will I be in one of your songs?

After that, you'll be the whole album.

It's kind of hard to find something
that rhymes with Gloria.

Actually, there is already a song
called "Gloria", but...

...but I didn't write it.

Who did?

Bono.

# And when you phone me, baby

# From the other side

# Keep sending home the money
and I'll be all right

# It is the season
for your playing dead

# You give me a reason to get into bed

# I'll put the flowers
where you lay your head

# You be the coward
that's running away

# Before you leave me

# Play dead for me

# If you want to hurt me

# Play dead for me

# Before you leave me

Come in, then.

# If you want to leave me #

It could be a hit.

Yes. Absolutely.

In the right hands.

I could get it to Rod.

Rod Stewart?

- I mean that would be great.
- That would be shite.

You don't like Rod? Hmm?

Rod is huge.

Rod is God.

I like The Faces Rod Stewart.

Not that twat who sings
"Do You Think I'm Sexy?",

and lives in a bollocking mansion
in Beverly Hills.

OK, Neil. You can go tell Rod
to stuff himself.

Meanwhile, we don't have barely
enough change in our pockets

- for the ticket home.
- I'm just trying.

OK, OK. I'm sensing your vibe,
and what I'm getting is

you don't want some heavy-handed
rocker trampling on your artistry.

Barry Manilow?

- Barry fucking Marshmanilow.
- Manilow shmanilow.

Jesus Christ.
We just turned down Rod Stewart.

- He's a prick.
- I don't care if he's a prick.

He's a rich successful prick

with a decade of hit records
and leggy blondes behind him.

And if that makes him a prick.

Well then, I want to be a prick, too.

Listen, arsehole.
Let me tell you something.

- This whole business is run on dirt.
- Hammond!

Dirty deals. Dirty money.
Dirty shitty people.

And you're the shittiest
of the lot of them.

Hammond, what are you doing here?

Do I know you?

Yes, yes. You said we could
be in your harem.

You know, "Beautiful folk in,
ugly lepers out".

- Neil McCormick.
- The McCormick brothers. Remember?

Oh, yeah. The folk act
with the rape song.

- Yeah, yeah!
- Oh, I quite liked that, didn't I?

Yeah, you said you loved it.

All right, look,
meet me downstairs in a minute.

OK. Neil.

Fuck off.

What the hell happened? You offered us
a deal and then you buggered off.

Yeah, I don't know.
I had some kind of misunderstanding

with those arseholes there,
but I've formed my own label now, so...

Sort of a free floating,
free-loving, free agent. Yeah?

Are you still doing
that folk rape shit?

No, no. These days we're sounding more
like U2 but with a bigger hit potential.

- Did I ever see you play?
- No.

I mean call me old fashioned,
but I don't like to sign anybody

until I've seen them live.

You know, it's so I can really
experience that wow factor.

Second Saturday in July.
It's gonna be amazing.

Probably one of the best gigs
you've ever seen in your entire life.

- So, that's...
- What?

Wow, OK.

That's amazing. Here's my card.

- I'll see you there.
- Yeah.

- I'm so pleased.
- OK, hugs. Good.

Great, great, great, great.
Fucking great.

Did I just have an acid flashback?

No. No, that actually happened.
Look. Look.

Hang on though. Hang on.
We don't have a pot to piss in

and you just promised
Mr. Definitely Maybe

the most stupendous gig in history.

Don't you worry your curly
little melon about it.

You worry about the music.

And I will take care of... that.

Good afternoon, ladies
and gentlemen and welcome to Dublin.

All in-bound passengers wishing
to travel to the city centre

please follow the signs
at the pick-up point...

Bono and the lads
are doing great, you know?

Are they? Really? Sure, you don't
hear anything about them in London.

It's like another country over there.

I hope you've come with good news
for Mr. Machin.

I vouched for you so it's my balls
on the block too, you know?

Stop your messing.

Jesus! Is that a gun?
Why've you got a gun?

I wouldn't be much good at me job
without one, would I?

- All right, girls?
- How are you?

He's the next big U2.
Neil McCormick.

He's a rock star, and all.

Your mate Bono's off
conquering the world

and you can't even conquer
your own fucking haircut.

Just tease it out a bit, love.

So, what have you got to show
for me money?

Well, we've got
this label guy, Hammond,

and he really, really
wants to sign us,

but he says he needs to see us
play live first,

so we need a bit more cash
so we can play that gig,

and then he'll come through
with a deal and that.

What happened to my ten thousand?

Well, there...
there's been a lot of admin.

Ten grand
on bloody envelopes?

Don't come the monkey with me, son.

You're standing there cap in hand and
you're already into me up to your tits.

You've got to spend money
to make money.

And didn't you just rob some place?

Sorry, Mr. Machin. I...
I can't help what the papers say.

Scurrilous bastards.

They'd pin every crime and calamity
from here to Cork on me if they could.

I just hope my poor old mam's
not reading this shite.

I'm a household name.
Like Marigold.

Like Hoover.

While you've been falling on your arse
trying to get famous,

I got more famous
than the pair of yous.

So I've an image problem,
a cash flow problem, and you.

What if I called in the debt?

- Well, I can't pay, so...
- So what?

So I suppose you would
have to kill me.

For Christ's sake, Neil, I'm not
an Italian. I'm not going to kill ya.

Yet.

I need to see your return
and you're no use to me dead.

I'll pay for your gig.

But on one condition.

I am not playing any Van Morrison.

I'm coming over to see yous.

I could do with a change
of surroundings.

And I expect V-I-fucking P.

Oh shit, that's grand.

- Hey, guys. Check this out.
- Wicked.

- That is handsome.
- You look like a girl.

I have got us a gig
at the best venue in town.

Neil.

Come on, mate.
Who's paying for all this?

Now, I know you went to Dublin,
you sneaky git.

I saw the tickets.

Just please tell me Dad
didn't bail us out.

It was Bono.

Really?

Who else do we know with any money?

Hey, aren't they incredible?

Yeah.

We're gonna give Hammond something
that is undeniable, man.

Hang on a sec, is that Bob Geldof?

- What?
- Turn that up there, Doug.

Among acts confirmed for
the Live Aid benefit at Wembley Stadium

are The Who, Queen, David Bowie,
Elton John, Sting and U2.

When is this?

The concert, on the thirteenth of July,
is expected to be watched

by a global television audience
of over two billion people.

Rock stars, Bob Geldof...

That's the same date you chose
for our gig.

I'll tell you what's undeniable.

That you are a cock!

You're a stupid, arsehole,
tosspot, bollock.

- Easy.
- Hey, wait.

- Don't you know Bob Geldof?
- He's from Ireland.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, Bob Geldof,
he's from Ireland, yeah.

I'll just give Bob a call.
Hey, Bob, you know your thing

with the big fuck off stars and
the billions of people and that?

For the starving kids in Africa?
Well, we've got a bit of a clash

with our gig in Camden and wondering
if you could push yours back a week.

Major cock up, Neil.

- How is this my fault?
- It always bloody is.

You're a genius at making
shite decisions.

You booked a gig on the same day the
Pope was doing his greatest hits tour.

You booked another gig on the same
day as the biggest gig in history.

You turned down Bono's help
for us to get a record deal.

And you turned down the chance
to sell our songs to Rod Stewart.

OK, boys. Let's just calm down.

We'll just change the date.

Direct from London, a group
whose heart is in Dublin, Ireland.

Whose spirit is with the world.

A group that's never had any problem
saying how they feel. U2.

Look at the size of that crowd.

We're an Irish band.
We come from Dublin city, Ireland.

Like all cities, it has its good.

And it has its bad.

This is a song called Bad.

We've got our own gig
to rehearse for, yeah?

Come on.

One, two. One, two, three.

# Oh

# Oh, oh, oh

# Whoa, oh, oh

# Sun is shining on the sea today

# You're living your life the easy way

# You've left behind

# The world again

# So be a tourist
Hear the call

# Now you've been saving your money
You can spend it all

# And you come away

# With me today

# Free from all
you're meant to be

# Come on, baby
Jump right in

# 'Cause tonight

# We can be right here
where we wanna be

# Oh, oh, oh

# Oh, oh, oh

# Come away

# Come away

# Get away

Come on, boys!

# Save yourself

# Free from all
you're supposed to be

# Come on, baby,
feel the breeze

# 'Cause today

So, Mr. Hammond.

What did you think?

I think I like your style.

Good mix of stadium rock,
balladeering,

- electric, Celtic...
- Cosmic.

Orgasmic.

We stand among stars
in the ascendant. Hmm.

I haven't been that excited
since I first saw Sting.

This is my wife, Danielle.

Big fan of The Police,
aren't you, love?

Nice boys.

Why don't you go and get yourself
another fucking drink, darling?

Now, we were trying to work out
who else you remind us of.

U2.

That's it.
Oh, sorry. Who are you?

Their priest.

How'd you do, Mr. Hammond, is it?

Yes, that's right.
Yeah, yeah... yeah.

So... what are you doing...

What the fuck is he doing here?

Well, it's just friendly support
from back home, isn't it?

- From Danny fucking Machin?
- Martin.

Father Martin, from the local parish.
Come to bless the gig.

Oh. Isn't that charming?

Well, it's nice to have God
in our corner.

Use all the support we can get
in this fucking, shitty business.

So, did you bring a contract?
'Cause...

...I brought a pen.
- Now, then.

Danielle, are we going to sign
this young band to our new label?

I thought they were really great.

They're a big hit with the girls.

Apparently.

You don't want to be the poor chap
who reads about these boys

in Rolling Stone next week, do you?

Wishing that he could make this
slippery little bugger of a decision

all over again.

Surely you've seen enough
to make up your mind?

You'd think so, wouldn't you?
But I don't invest lightly.

I mean, are these boys going to
set the world on fire? I don't know.

Can you explain
Frankie Goes to Hollywood?

I can't.

I don't even like music.

What?

Mr. Hammond, could I have
a word with you in private?

Would you mind?
If it's not too much of an imposition.

There are only two reasons
I can think of

for two gentlemen to share
a toilet cubicle.

Well, it's not the first one.

Good.
Thank God for that.

That's what I love about
the Catholic church.

You really know how
to enjoy yourselves.

Shall we use your gear, or mine?

Neither. I've sinned enough.

I want to see my boys succeed.

Am I being given the hard sell
by their priest?

No. You're getting it
from Danny Machin.

Who the fuck's Danny Machin?

Who the fuck is Danny Machin?

- Yeah.
- I'll tell you who Danny Machin is.

He's the answer to your prayers.

He's the boy can make
your dreams come true.

Now, it can be the best wet dream
you ever had.

Or your worst fucking nightmare.

I can rip your head off
and shit down your throat.

It's up to you.

Welcome to the label.

Thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you.

Now, I want postcards from every gig.

With all the lurid details.

- No problem.
- Thanks for everything, Karl.

And don't worry, we'll get you
VIP passes when we play Wembley.

- Access all areas.
- Ah!

I'll make you sorry you ever said that.

Now, boys. A word to the wise
from an old man before you go.

Remember only this.

The measure of a man is what's left
when fame falls away.

Hmm?

Oh, and another thing.

Get as much sex as you can.

There's no problem there at all, Karl.

- Love you.
- Thanks, Karl.

Take care.

- Oh, I'll just get that.
- Leave it, man.

It might be mam.

Yeah.

You can run but you can't hide,
McCormick.

Bono!

I've been looking out for you
on Top of the Pops.

Yeah, well, apparently
they've this Irish quota.

It's one out, one in. And seeing as U2
are on telly every night,

I'll have to kill you to get my turn.

Kill Bono?

I know a few people
that would wear that t-shirt.

I'm already wearing that t-shirt.

Where are you, anyway?

Washington D.C.
Laid up in a hotel room

with my arm in a sling
and a medicinal bottle of bourbon.

Yeah, let me guess.

The fame went to your head
and you thought you could fly.

Got it in one.

Right off stage.
Popped my arm out of its socket.

So, now you need me to come
and take over as front man for U2?

Well, OK. Seeing as it's you.

Not exactly.

But I was gonna ask if you'd
open for us in Dublin?

Get to fuck, you gobshite.

You mean support U2?

Well, we're doing Croke Park
at the end of June, and I thought,

you know, when we tour we like to
support local bands, you know?

Well, so... so technically you would be
supporting us then?

McCormick.

Look, we'd be supporting each other.
Like the old days.

Yeah, listen, Bono.

We are just playing our own tour
at the moment.

Just a few UK dates and Europe.

We got ourselves signed too,
you know?

Hey, congratulations, man.
I never doubted you for a minute.

Thanks.

I mean...

Call me crazy, but...

Since it's been a bit of a bastard
getting here...

I just think we'd rather play
to five hundred of our own fans

than fifty thousand of yours,
you know?

Well, so that's a no?

Yeah.

Look, I've got to go, Neil.
Talk to you later.

Oh, nice of you to join.
Who was that, then?

Uh... Mam. She wishes us luck.

Check out the bus!

Jesus.

# The city it wakes for me

# I'm alone

# I brought my six string company

# The night is cold

# And so is the living space

# It's hard to know

# The reason for our great race

# If you had a choice

# Of a better way
would you take it?

# If you had a choice of a better way

S/H/O/O/K U/P.
Shook Up.

No, not shut up.

This fucking accent.

You must be Will Hammond?

- Yeah.
- Yeah. Gary Hagan. Hot Press.

Oh, hi, Gary. Thanks for flying in
at such short notice. Cool, cool.

Oh no, are you kidding? I was born
to break this story, you know?

- Excuse me, darling.
- The McCormick's and me go way back.

And what with the U2 connection...

Yeah, this story should make
a great splash.

What U2 connection?

Gary.

Hey, now I know we've made it.

- Hot Press are in the building.
- Whoo!

I wouldn't have missed this
for the world, Neil.

You're part of a great fucking story.

Yeah, thanks.
What do you mean "part of"?

Well, you know, two bands
umbilically tied.

One in orbit. One still...

...grinding it out.
- Just drop it.

Do you have to shoehorn U2
into every piece you write?

Just 'cause we're from the same
bloody country. Right, come on, boys.

We've got a gig to play.
I'll give you some quotes after.

But I am not talking about U2.

Ivan, what about you?
Will you talk about U2?

Look, Neil's right. We grew up
with them, what's to talk about?

Oh, I don't know. Just the fact that you
could have been the fifth member.

No, that's bollocks. It was just some
arseing around in Larry's kitchen.

That's not all though, is it?
I've just been on tour with them.

Bono said he wanted you in the band.

- What, Bono said that?
- Yeah.

But Neil told him no.
You wanted to stick with family.

Shook Up, Shook Up.

Thank you. Thank you very much.
Whoo!

Neil said that?

Drink it in, bro. Drink it in.

Fuck you, Neil!

- Get off me!
- Fight, fight, fight!

I'm gonna fuckin' kill him.
Get off me!

- What the cock is going on?
- Get off!

Betrayed by my own brother.

We have spent years living in
a warehouse, eating beans from a can.

Whereas I could have been in orbit
with the best band in the world.

Get off me!

- Where has this come from, Ivan?
- Gary told me.

And he heard it straight from Bono.

So, are you telling me it's a lie?

No. So, give me the truth.

We were kids.

It was ten years ago.
What do you want me to say?

- Sorry?
- Yes. Yes!

I want you to say sorry.

Sorry for all the record deals
you turned down,

while you were waiting
for the big one.

Sorry that everything you touch
turns to shite.

Sorry that you made
the worst decision of my life!

Well, I'm not sorry, Ivan.
Listen to me.

- Get out of my way.
- Calm down. Listen. Calm down!

I am not sorry!

I'm not sorry for knowing all along
that we could make it on our own.

I'm not sorry that every shitty decision
I ever made has brought us here.

And I am not fucking sorry

that we are Shook Up and not U2.

- Listen.
- Shook Up, Shook up!

Hear that?

They're waiting for us out there, Ivan.

You're not breaking up, are you?

Are you?

Oh, great. Great!

Shook Up! Shook Up!

It's so your fault.

You fucking get out there.
This is a gig.

Right, I'm going to announce you.
Watch.

One, two. Hello?

Hello, music lovers.

Oi! Oi! Don't boo me!
I went to Eton.

All right, here's Shook Up!

Get out here! Get out!

You fucking ponce.

# Well, I've been
looking for you everywhere

# You're like a breeze
in the midnight air

# I thought I saw you
in a crowded place

# And now I see your eyes
on every face

# So help me

# Say it's true
that you were wrong

# Say it to me all day long

# It's kicking off again

# Wasting away
Face it again

# Piss it away

# You

# It's kicking off again

# The road
It never ever ends

# It's kicking off again

# Say what? #

Ha!

You run press.

Could you have stopped this?

Why would I? It's a gift.

Neil, you can't buy this kind of press.

Buy it?

Right now, I would pay
to make it go away.

Well, this isn't helping.

I am drinking on an empty bus...
because of this.

Because of you.

I didn't stop Ivan being in U2.

No, but you told
the entire world about it.

Neil. Chill out.

Just keep your eye on the prize.

My band's not talking to me.

My brother hates my guts.
If this is the prize...

...I don't want it.

Shit happens.

You move on.

Tonight, you'll be back there on-stage
with all the girls.

Danielle, I'm seeing someone.

A faithful rock star.
That's a new one.

Don't worry, I won't tell anybody.

Where is she, anyway?

More important things
to take care of, has she?

Well, I'm here now.

Screwing the boss's wife.
That'd be another fine career move.

It would.

You wanna go far, don't you?

I'm very good at what I do.

Yeah, I bet you are.

You've seen the way I look at you.

Yeah, and so has your husband.

I look after him. And I'll make sure
you're looked after too.

All you have to do...

...is look... after me.

Thank you.

Have you guys agreed on an encore?

- Yeah, "Kicking Off Again".
- Yeah, "The Great Beyond".

- What?
- I'm not singing that shite again.

You've done it again,
you bloody slag.

Will, please. It's the last time.
Don't make a scene, please.

I mean, Sting I could understand.
But Neil McCormick?

Problem?

Cock-driven little turd.

- Oh, Will. Will!
- Shook Up! Shook Up!

Is there a problem?
Is it about the deal?

It's about your boyfriend
fucking my wife.

Well, I thought you'd made
every cock-up known to man.

But this... this tops everything.

But I... I just... I...

You actually had sex
with this man's wife?

You said we had to be nice to her.

Looking at you is... makes me
wanna do some really nasty things.

Wait. You're not gonna drop us?

You can't.
We've only just started.

OK. All good bands run on democracy.

So, let's have a show of hands.

Who would object if I told Neil
to fuck off out of the band?

What?

Looks like you're on your own.

Right. Whose turn is it to hit you?

You've had a go.
That just leaves me and...

Gloria. Ah!

Gloria!

One, two.
One, two, three, four.

Gloria, wait. I'm sorry.

Spare yourself, Neil.

And what's the point of being a rock
star if you don't get to sleep around?

- I didn't mean to hurt you.
- Yeah, well I meant to hurt you.

Yeah, well you did.
It was actually a really good punch.

You know what?

This isn't even about me.

It's about you constantly
screwing things up for yourself.

# Fade into grey

# And it don't matter anymore

# What you wanna buy
It ain't in store

# Sometimes you gotta write
your own songs

# When you wanna sing

# Disengage and leave the ground

# Setting my sights
On the great beyond

# Silence is the loudest sound

# I can't believe it
It's so beautiful

# I was lost but now I'm found

# Setting my sights
on the great beyond

# Disengage and leave the ground #

Yeah, yeah, so I'll see ya.

Christ sake, Neil.
Have you been drinking all night?

So, are you really getting on that bus?

Well, what do you expect?

Come with me.

Where to? Back to square one?

Another few years of living off fags
and chips and rejection letters?

- No.
- No, not to square one.

We're on the map now.
People out there are talking about us.

They're listening to us.
They're loving us.

Not you. Not me. Us.

The head of the record label hates
your guts and wants you to go to hell.

- Think that might be a problem?
- So what.

He's small time, anyway.
If... if he doesn't want us

then we'll go bigger.
We'll go better.

Look, Jesus...

You never did know
when to give up, did you?

If I did... do you think
we'd have come this far?

Come this far?

Yeah.

I could have been in U2.

I should have been in U2.

You have held me back long enough.

I thought all that was behind us?

It is behind me.
It's in front of me.

It's everywhere I look.
It's my whole life, Neil.

And now I want it back!

- Don't cut me out now.
- You cut yourself out!

Ivan!

Fuck's sake.

I'm sorry.

Is pop music's biggest loser in?

- What?
- Come on, I know he's back in Dublin.

- Do you mind if I come in?
- I do, yeah.

McCormick?

McCormick!

Where is he?

Hi, Temple Hill.
Leave a message.

Oh, bugger.

Yeah, hi, Bono. It's Neil.

I heard you were back from the States,
just leaving you a message.

Listen, I've been having a think
about your offer and...

...and it struck me just as
a bit silly really,

to turn down the big gig. Moment of
madness really there, on my part.

I managed to juggle a few bits,

and I would be happy
to support you on the...

Bugger!

I hate nature.

Can you guys get a shake on?

It's like watching the world's
most depressing water feature.

Could someone please explain to me

why you were so
spectacularly awful last night?

Look. Are you saying we were shite?

More lively crowd
at my mother's funeral.

You think we sound like
we've lost something.

- Maybe it's 'cause we have.
- All right, we'll get another singer.

Wham! have just split up.
Maybe we could get that guy.

George Michael?

No, we'd never get him.
The other one.

We don't need a new singer.
We've lost our front man.

And whatever you say about Neil,
that's what he was.

And let's face it.

Your wife wouldn't have shagged
a bass player.

- You don't know that.
- Oi!

Cheeky git. I'll fire you, n'all.

Look.

Neil was part of
what really made this band.

And you fired him.

No. We fired him.

Yeah.

We... are supporting U2.

- What?
- Bog off!

Bono asked me himself.
They want a local band to support them.

- Just like old times.
- We can't support U2.

I work in a chicken factory.

Would it kill you to quit?

I don't know whether I can still play.

You never could.
No one will notice.

Eighty thousand people might notice.

What about your brother?
I thought yous fell out?

You leave Ivan to me.

Trust me.
He'll want to come back for this.

McCormick!

There you are, you little shite.

I've been looking for you all over.

Plugger! I haven't seen you...

Shut the fuck up, burger boy.

Mr. Machin's been hearing
ugly rumours.

Word is the band is split up.

You come running home
with your tail between your legs?

Absolute crap.
This is the band.

- Hi.
- What?

And as it happens, we're over
to support U2 at Croke Park.

But I haven't seen your name
on any of the posters.

Is this true, twat features?

Yeah. U2, Croke Park. Yeah.

So, this should see me and
Mr. Machin straight, right?

OK. I'll call some people.

Check your story.
If you're lying,

I'll introduce the lot of yous
to Mr. Machin's bath.

His bath?

Jesus, Neil.

What are you still mixing
with those murderous bastards?

Like, thank God you're
telling the truth.

Or else we'd be in the shit.

Hi, Bono? Yeah, me, Neil again.

Just calling to check
you got my last message.

Got all my band sorted.

We're all in town and we're
raring to go, man.

OK, bye.

How are you, Dad?

Ivan, we'd hoped you might
call sooner, son.

Yeah, I know. I've just been...

I've been busy with the tour
and that and...

How's Neil?

Fucked, frankly.

He's been living like a tramp.
We haven't seen him for days

and I just had some hard arse round
looking for him.

- Who?
- Some kid.

The type who'd happily take your head
off. Is he in some kind of trouble?

Ah! Well, if it isn't
our very own rock star.

How are ya, Niall?

I'm just trying to track down Bono.
Do you know where he is?

The bands just back in town for the gig.
They're rehearsing down at the factory

and then they're holed up at
the Stanford doing press.

- Great.
- Morning, Gary.

How's Grace Jones?

Fucking terrifying.
What's he doing here?

Gary. Still writing
poof pieces for Bono

with your pen in one hand
and your prick in the other?

Could always do another piece on you.
The refugee from rock bottom.

I think you've done enough damage
after the last time.

And anyway it might be the best thing
that has ever happened,

because I am back here
to support... U2.

Hi. Hiya.

Neil McCormick here to see Bono.

He's working.
He don't take social calls.

You're not press, are ya?

- I hate fucking press.
- Yeah, me too.

I hate press.

I'm not press. I'm a friend of his,
we're... good mates.

Everyone in Dublin says that.

Well, what do you want me to do?

Flash my "I went to school
with Bono" card?

Yeah?

What do you mean
we're supporting U2?

Well, that's what Neil said.
Are you telling me he was having us on?

Maybe. I don't know?
It's news to bloody me, you know?

I just don't know what's going on
in Neil's head.

Well, he was acting a bit mental.
More so than usual, that is.

- And did he say where he was going?
- Sure, he was on the hunt for Bono.

Neil McCormick. Hot Press.

Hi. Here to see Bono.

Bono's not registered with us, sir.

No, he's not a guest.
He's with the band.

They're here for the press conference.

The band? And what band
would that be now?

I'll give you a clue.

I love clues. I love clues.

Bono!

Oh, right, Bono.
Bono is not registered with us.

Listen to me, you little tight arse.
We both know he's in the building.

There's a small army
of U2 fans outside.

So, just tell me the way
to the fucking conference.

He's not registered.

Security! Security!

Paul! Paul.
Its... it's Neil McCormick.

Hey, it's all right he's with me.

Jesus, Neil. You look different.

I thought you were off
touring the world?

Yeah, well, it's a long story.

Listen, while I have you, I did
just wanna firm up our support gig.

- The one you turned down?
- Yeah, yeah. That's the one.

Listen, I've had a bit of a rethink
and count me in.

Sorry, Neil. You said no. Call him crazy
but Bono did take that as a no.

Paul.

So that's it? End of story?

What can I say?

Now, if you'll excuse me?
We are kind of busy at the moment.

Might catch you at the party later.

Yeah, be sure and put me on the list.

Can I see your pass, please?

Gary Hagan, Hot Press. Some people say
you're on your way to becoming

- the biggest rock star on the planet.
- I wouldn't say that, Gary.

I mean, I'm only five foot nine
and that's with the hat.

If you want to print it.
Feel free, I'll read it.

You know it makes me laugh, I mean...
You hear a lot of people saying U2

they're going to be the next this,
the next that.

There was all this expectation
after The Unforgettable Fire.

- Excuse me.
- Yeah?

Can you tell me
where I can find Bono?

Bono? Bono.

No, there doesn't seem to be
anyone here by that name, sir. No.

Oh, except for that Bono.

- Yeah, that Bono.
- Ivan McCormick, come here.

Hey, Paul! How are ya?

The prodigal son returns.

Plugger.
Thank God that's you.

We just spoke with Jimmy O'Mahoney.
U2's roadie.

- What?
- Yeah.

He's heard no talk of you
playing with them, you bollix.

Get in the bastard car.

Ah, ah, ah, ah!
You're driving.

I'll be right behind you
with me little friend here.

And no funny shite.

Mr. Machin does sort of like you,
you know?

- Well, that's a relief.
- It's always harder when you like 'em.

What? Wait, what's harder?

We thought you were gonna be another
Bono. You had us all going there.

Yeah. I had myself going.

I spoke to McGuiness.
He said he looked pretty rough.

I'd no idea it'd got so bad.
Maybe he finally flipped?

It's been on the cards.
And to tell you the truth?

You might have had
something to do with it.

Everyone wants to be
a rock star, right?

Back at school,
if you'd have told me that four of us

would become the biggest
rock band on the planet,

I'd have asked who
the other three were.

You always were a cocky fucker.

You're everywhere.

The press, the posters
and the albums and awards.

And your face on every billboard
and limited edition china ware.

It's a good little earner,
the Bono tea set.

I think people like to smash it up.

We were going to take on the world
with our music.

Sure, when we got going there'd
be no fucking stopping us.

But you've got your own thing going on.

You're not still sore about
not being in the band?

No, no. I'm fine about that.

Not a day goes by when I don't thank
my lucky stars I'm not in your band.

What do you do when your best friends
become your greatest rivals?

What was I supposed to do?
Just... just lie down

and let my little brother get snapped up
by the competition? No, no.

Well, Neil wouldn't let me have you.
And I don't blame him.

I mean, if you were my brother
I wouldn't have let you join

- some other shitty garage band.
- Oh, shit. You were U2.

We didn't know that.
None of us did.

- And we were pretty shitty.
- Yeah.

I had it all planned out.
Form a band.

Given the choice, would you
really have picked us over him?

Release a series
of ground-breaking albums.

I'd wanna say, yes.

Tour the world's greatest stadiums.

But could you... have picked us
over your own brother?

Pull off the biggest rock and roll
invasion of America since the Beatles.

This was my life. Just waiting to happen
and all I had to do was live it.

There was just one problem.

Him.

Well, if you've got a problem, why
don't you just do something about it?

Oh, yeah? What?

What, what?
What should I do about it?

Will you keep your eyes on the road?

Hey, is that the...

Neil!

Neil! Neil!

Look, it's just a shame you can't
support us on Saturday.

What?

We offered you a support slot,
you said no.

What?

- He didn't tell you?
- No. He didn't tell me.

Would you be willing to repeat this
in a court of law?

On behalf of the defence?

- Whose defence?
- Mine.

Because I'm going to
bleeding murder him.

OK, I guess this is it.
Are you ready?

- For my 15 seconds of fame?
- Enough to put you off forever.

Get out of me fucking way.
You out of the way, now. Come on.

Bono. Bono.

Neil McCormick.
I'm a friend of the band's.

I should be under
Paul McGuinness's list.

- OK, go straight in.
- Thanks.

Neil. What the fuck are you doing?

Ivan.

What are you doing here?
You're supposed to be on tour.

Yeah, I know. I came back for you,
you dickhead.

- Yeah?
- Yeah, but...

...I'm an idiot because...
What happened to your face?

Never mind. Because I found out
about the U2 gig.

- Oh.
- Oh.

You turned down U2, Neil. Again.

On my behalf, again,
without telling me.

Again.

I just wanted us to do it on our own.

Why does everything that we ever do
always have to come back to them?

It's like some sick cosmic joke!

Have you heard this song? I mean,
is he taking the piss now or what?

He still hasn't found what he's looking
for. He's got everything he ever wanted.

No, he's got everything
that you ever wanted.

How do you know what he wants?

I mean, you're going on about him
like he's a fifty foot, singing genie

that you can't shove
back in the bottle. No!

He's Bono.

He's just Paul Hewson grown up.
And you need to get over it,

and get yourself to-fucking-gether,

so we can play this gig
and steal their thunder.

It's not happening. I spoke to
McGuinness. The gig is off.

Well, I told Bono that we'd do it.

What?

Even though you've
bollocksed it up again,

and probably don't deserve it,

it is on.

All you got to do is sing, man.

It's four numbers.
Just like back at school.

We're supporting U2!

We're supporting U...

...2.

- What the fuck is that?
- Just leave it, never mind.

What do you mean, never mind?
There was a firearm

shoved down the front of your trousers.

What would you have done if I wasn't
here? What's the plan, Neil?

Come down and stick that thing
to Bono's head?

- Don't be stupid.
- That's what it looks like, genius!

Like a complete nut job
trying to solve all his problems

by coming in here and killing Bono.

No.

There's two lads
in the toilet with a gun.

- I think we should probably leave now.
- Yeah, I think you're probably right.

No, fuck it. Go.

Move, move!

Get out of here.

Neil!

What do you think I am? Stupid?

Right, come here...

Piss off.

Ah, right.

Jump in.
You've business with Mr. Machin.

No, no, no, Plugger. Wait.

We got the gig.
We're supporting U2.

Is that what do you think I am?
Stupid?

I take it that's why you had the gun?

So... fill me in, brother.

How much are we into
Danny Machin for?

All in all?

- Thirteen grand, give or take.
- Thirteen grand?

What is that, five grand a kneecap
and three for our heads?

- That doesn't add up, Ivan.
- I don't care!

I should be on top of the world
but now I'm gonna die.

And it's your fault.

Again!

Got them.

Don't shoot me!

Get 'em out.

- Mr. Machin!
- Let's get this over with.

Mr. Machin,
you've got to believe us.

We've landed a really, really,
really massive gig.

Sit the fuck down.

The press want to bury me.

It's a fucking witch-hunt!

And I'm calling in all debts.

Well...

We can't pay but...
but if you just maybe give us some...

I'm not giving anything!
No more fucking favours!

Now you're not leaving here,
till you pay me back.

And if you can't pay me back,
you're not leaving at all.

We're really gonna die.

Now, Plugger here tells me
you were a journalist.

Uh, yeah. Yeah, rock critic
for Hot Press.

A few bits for the school mag.

I tell you, my Pulitzer Prize
is still a ways off, I...

Shut up, Neil. Neil's just
being modest, Mr. Machin.

He's a great writer.
He's brilliant.

It's his calling.
Isn't that right, Neil?

Yeah. Yeah.

My calling. You need someone
with press credentials.

Someone to tell your side of the story.
Set the record straight.

The man behind the myth,
kind of thing.

Without bias, without agenda.

Oh, there's an agenda, all right.

I assume you want to live?

OK. So you do this thing for me.
You write my story,

you sell it to the papers
and you pay me back every penny.

You can ask me anything you like.
But you stay here and you write

till you're finished and it better be
good enough to publish.

Hang on.
We can't stay here.

Like we said,
we've got this big gig on...

You're not going anywhere,
you daft bollock.

Either of you.
You can sharpen his pencils.

- Come on.
- Will you stop your pacing?

I can't. We're supposed to be
sound checking right now.

You were the one that convinced him
this was such a great idea.

In what fucking universe
is this my fault?

You have a gift.
Never mind the pop star bollocks.

You could be the next James Joyce.
Only with better punctuation.

Oh, here we go.

We may not have time to finish this.

- Will we take the Land Rover?
- You take it.

Right, lads. Let's go.

And if I don't see your piece
in the papers by the weekend...

...it's bath time with Plugger.
Understand?

Come on. Machin's in there.

Go, go, go, go, go!

- Don't move!
- Right, fucking don't move!

Seamus. Ronan.

Right, lads.
Get ready to jump out.

Dublin road's just over that hill.

It's been rock and roll, lads.
Now bugger off outta here.

- What, here?
- Yeah.

- It's in the middle of nowhere.
- Piss off!

Plugger!

I'm fucking freezing.

This way, is it?

- What's so funny?
- Being alive.

It's fucking absurd but it's great,
isn't it?

Yeah.

Do you reckon that's the Dublin bus?

If it is, we still might make the gig.

No, we're miles away,
we'll never make it.

Yeah, of course we'll make it.
We can do anything we wanna do.

Be anything we wanna be.

- Will you just shut up and run?
- Right.

I just want you to know...

I never doubted us for a second.
I never doubted we'd make it.

- We're not there yet.
- Oh, trust me, we'll get there.

I can feel it. It's meant to be.