By now — 26 years after four Irish lads all but spontaneously­ combusted from the detonation of their outrageous, Mt. Olympus–size ambition — it’s clear that, love ’em or loathe ’em, U2 get the longevity prize. No prior holder of the World’s Greatest Rock Band title has kept at it so long, without lineup changes or a drummer dying in an Italian hotel room. U2 have pulled this off not in spite of a penchant for self-parody, but because of it. Their embarrassing excursions into Amer­ican roots rock (Rattle and Hum) and “techno” (Pop) are testaments to rampant, self-deluding rock-star ego, which led them into styles a less foolish band would avoid. Nowadays, Bono jokes about his “messianic complex” and winks beneath his wraparound shades, but he’s still singing about love, God and politics in huge, ringing songs that emulate jet engines.

A dozen of these 18 singles appeared on two previous compilations, released four years ago; the new record adds two songs from How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, two from All That You Can’t Leave Behind and two new Rick Rubin productions, the cruddy Green Day collaboration­ “The Saints Are Coming” and “Window in the Skies,” a laughably pro forma U2 ballad from the celestial lyrical conceit to the predictable falsetto whoops in the outro. Some of the other choices are curious. There is nothing from the first two albums — a weird omission, given the fabulous 1980 cover photo, with Bono and the boys looking like poofy-haired models for a chain of Dublin discount shops. And they could’ve chosen a better single from Achtung Baby than “Mysterious Ways,” whose wah-propelled funk-lite has aged as badly as Bono’s mullet.

Singles compilations are by definition reductive, and this is especially true for U2, whose albums are more adventurous than the hits would lead you to believe. On The Joshua Tree, “With or Without You” nestles up against “Trip Through Your Wires,” a weird foray into high-desert pop; Achtung Baby concludes with the grim “Love Is Blindness,” featuring the Edge’s mostly bruisingly ­dissonant guitar. U218 Singles boils them down to their two most grandiose modes, the Uplifting Anthem and the Inspirational Ballad: “Where the Streets Have No Name,” “Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own” and other songs from the soundtrack to Bono’s Nobel Peace Prize presentation ceremony.

It’s a partial picture, but a revealing one — U2 use album tracks for balance and contrast, but their hearts are in the kind of singles that leave the whole world humming. Haters hear only bombast in these globe-hugging jingles, but U2’s high-minded aspirations are wrapped up with the megalomania they’ve learned to laugh at, and the carnality they’ve learned to celebrate. Sure, they’re idealistic,­ but they’re sensualists, not saints. Sure, they’d like to see Third World debt canceled, and peace on earth would be nice, too. But U2 also want to save the planet so they can mount another mega-­million-grossing­ arena tour, flirt with models at after-parties­ and maybe buy another boutique hotel or two.  

It’s easy to get swept up in their skyrocketing sound, but you need the enclosed lyric sheet to grasp the ironies and — yes, despite their reputation for flag-waving — subtleties of the songs. Their greatest record, “One,” is a harrowing vision of romantic dissolution that still gets mistaken for a homily about global unity. The magic of U2’s music is the way it moves from the cosmic to the workaday, from blinding light to blackness, often in the quick of a single couplet. “See the canyons broken by cloud/See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out,” Bono sings in “Beautiful Day,” a song that contemplates traffic­ jams and lost love and, oh yeah, apocalypse, and still argues, with the full fathom­ force of an operatic vocal cresting over major chords, that you should step outside and enjoy the sunshine. Down here, the streets are dirty and defiled and they definitely have names. But the goal, always, is elevation.

Download: “New Year’s Day,” “Beautiful Day,” “One”