On hearing that the once-popular beat combo U2 had released their “most political” songs in years on Days of Ash, it did not take a genius to predict that it would be a rousing broadside against Donald Trump. For artists of a certain bent, the US president is like the tiger in the old Buddhist meditation exercise that novice monks are challenged not to think about. The more you try not to think about that pesky tiger, the more it dominates your thoughts.
But U2’s new EP, released on , isn’t simply a rehashing of familiar anti-Trump sentiments. It’s a broader, if somewhat scattershot, attempt to “confront these maddening times,” as the band puts it. And, crucially, it’s a bid to reclaim relevance in a musical landscape that has largely moved on.
It’s been nearly nine years since U2 released a collection of original material, 2017’s Songs of Experience. In the intervening years, the band hasn’t been idle – two tours, two films, a 40-date residency at the Las Vegas Sphere, and a re-recording of older material on Songs of Surrender, plus Bono’s autobiography and subsequent solo ventures. But a lengthy gap between original albums inevitably raises questions about a band’s place in the current musical conversation.
Days of Ash, featuring six new tracks, arrives as a response to a series of shocking news stories. The EP is anchored by “American Obituary,” a hard-rocking track directly addressing the killing of Renée Good by ICE agents in Minneapolis on . Bono’s lyrics are pointed: “Renee Good, born to die free / American mother of three / seventh day January / a bullet for each child, as you can see.” He further characterizes Good as “a woman committed to nonviolent civil disobedience” and expresses concern over her being labeled a “domestic terrorist” by Kristi Noem, head of the US Department of Homeland Security.
The EP doesn’t limit its focus to the United States. Bono also lambasts Vladimir Putin and Benjamin Netanyahu, signaling a wider scope of political engagement. This isn’t a new tactic for U2, of course. The band has a long history of incorporating political themes into their music, but the immediacy of Days of Ash feels different, more reactive than reflective.
The release is accompanied by the return of “Propaganda,” a digital zine harking back to the band’s early days of fan engagement. This 52-page publication, titled “U2 − Days of Ash: Six Postcards from the Present … Wish We Weren’t Here,” includes song lyrics, notes from the band members, and an interview with Taras Topolia, a musician and soldier. It’s a nostalgic touch, attempting to recreate a sense of direct connection with fans that feels increasingly rare in the age of social media.
However, the question remains: is this a genuine artistic impulse, or a calculated attempt to stay relevant? The band themselves acknowledge that these songs are a prelude to a “defiantly joyful” album expected later in 2026. Bono suggests that the weightier themes explored in Days of Ash are a necessary prelude to a more optimistic outlook. “Songs of celebration will follow,” he states. “For all the awfulness we see normalized daily on our small screens, there’s nothing normal about these mad and maddening times and we need to stand up to them before we can go back to having faith in the future. And each other.”
The EP’s crispness, noted by reviewers, is a welcome change from some of the band’s more sprawling 21st-century work. It suggests a renewed focus and a willingness to engage directly with the present moment. But the very act of reacting so quickly to current events also carries a risk. The news cycle moves fast, and what feels urgent today may feel dated tomorrow.
U2’s long history has shown a capacity to adapt and reinvent themselves. The Joshua Tree tour, playing the album in full, was presented not as nostalgia, but as a statement of purpose. The Las Vegas Sphere residency demonstrated an innovative approach to live performance. Days of Ash feels like another attempt to define their role in a changing world. Whether it’s a successful one remains to be seen. The EP is, at the very least, a clear signal that U2 isn’t content to simply rest on its laurels. It’s a desperate, perhaps, but undeniably earnest bid to reclaim lost relevance, even if that means embracing the role of “centrist dad” railing against the injustices of the world.
