If rock and roll is the ultimate extension of Rhythm and Blues, then Irish military bands are about as un-rock and roll as it gets. But they have been the main training ground for generations of Irish drummers, including Dublin’s Larry Mullen, Jr. Born on Halloween, 1961, the only son of Larry and Maureen Mullen took to the instrument at the age of nine, heavily influenced by the nascent scene that would soon burgeon into glam. With the thumping sounds of Sweet, T. Rex and Slade blasting from his bedroom, Mullen was drawn to the drums.

Larry, Jr. convinced his parents to get him a kit, which he described to Rhythm magazine as “a bit of a nightmare.” The kit was, evidently, the product of a Japanese toy company. Still, with a little elbow grease and ingenuity, he made it work. “I persevered with it for quite a few years and, like an old friend, I was sorry to see it go,” he recalled.

He was fortunate enough to study the instrument, early on, with noted Irish drummer Joe Bonnie. Nevertheless, his only outlet for performance was a marching, military-style outfit called the Artane Boys Band. There wasn’t much to work with in rockish 4/4 timings, but Mullen did develop a unique style that would later color such hits as “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “Pride (In the Name of Love).”

In the fall of 1976, Mullen decided it was time to form his own rock and roll band. He placed an ad on the bulletin board at the Mount Temple Comprehensive School. Fate took care of the rest, by delivering to him fellow classmates Paul Hewson (later known as “Bono”), Dave Evans (“The Edge”) and Adam Clayton, along with a few others (most notably, Evans’ brother Dik) who would fall by the wayside over the next couple of years.

“At the first rehearsals, people were referring to the band as Larry Mullen’s Band, for want of a better name,” he recalled, with a bit of self-effacing humor. “We never played under that name, but I think it was done to protect my ego at that stage, because we had rehearsed at my house and, when Bono came in, he could sing better than me, looked better and was just plain that bit older. He basically shot my chance of becoming the leader of the band.”

The band paid their dues, with multiple name changes along the way. Mullen mowed enough lawns to replace his rickety old kit with something slightly more professional. And finally their demo made it into the hands of CBS Records. CBS was interested in the group, with one note: get rid of the drummer. Mullen’s style, while evolving toward something more soulful in the company of his new musical brothers, still was far afield of traditional rock and roll. But the band was adamant; Mullen was crucial to their musical formula. CBS relented and signed the group, by now called U2, anyway. And the rest is music history.

As for Mullen and his role within the group, the drummer waxed, “I’ve never thought of myself as U2’s drummer but rather a contributor to the overall sound.”