The Tech Who Said Bono Whispered To His Mic “You’Re The Only One Listening” Before Every Encore

April 1, 2025

In the dimly lit shadows behind the stage, I found myself submerged in a world that pulsed with energy and anticipation. The crowd’s roar resonated through the air like an unstoppable wave, crashing against the walls of the stadium. I was just a tech, but on that night, I felt an electric connection to the music and the magic unfolding before me. This was U2’s concert in Chicago, a city where the band had shared countless memories and where their music echoed the struggles and hopes of its people.

As the show progressed, I was captivated by Bono’s magnetic presence. His voice, powerful and raw, soared above the cheers and claps, weaving an emotional tapestry that wrapped itself around every listener in the audience. I had been working with the band for a while, and as the encores approached, I noticed a ritual that Bono performed when he thought no one could hear. Right before he took the microphone for the encore, he would lean into it softly and whisper, “You’re the only one listening.” At first, it struck me as odd, almost intimate, but then it blossomed into something profound.

That simple phrase became a mantra for me. Bono wasn’t just addressing the audience; he was speaking to his own vulnerabilities. He was a rock star, yes, but he was also a human being, grappling with the weight of expectations and the burden of fame. In a world overflowing with noise and distractions, he reminded himself of the beauty found in genuine connection—even if it was with just one person. It echoed the message of his songs: that everyone matters, that our voices can resonate and bring change, no matter how small those moments might seem.

As the encore drew near, I watched him transform. The whispers became chants that fueled his passion, igniting the stage with a renewed fervor. With every note he sang, it felt as if he was not only conveying his own emotions but also urging every listener to believe in their potential. It was during those final moments that I understood the true power of music—it could unify strangers and heal wounds, and it was a vessel for dreams.

After the show, I felt an overwhelming sense of inspiration. Bono’s quiet acknowledgment of solitude struck a chord within me. It reminded me that even in the spotlight, he faced moments of doubt. But each time he went out there, he rose above it, fueled by the knowledge that his message mattered. That night, I took his words to heart: even if just one person is listening, the impact can be monumental.

Years later, I would often reflect on that evening as I pursued my own dreams. Like Bono, I learned that it’s essential to speak my truth, even when doubt creeps in. His whispered words remained a guiding light, reminding me that the music we create, the stories we share, and the love we extend can change lives, including our own. In the end, it’s about the courage to be seen, to be heard, and to inspire others amid the chaos of the world.