Fragility and Power Echo and the Bunnymen

Rip It Up, Issue 123, 1 October 1987, Page 10

Fragility and Power Echo and the Bunnymen

Humility is not a virtue that sits comfortably within the world of rock ’n’ roll. The spirit of the music demands a brash self-confidence, and that is one characteristic lan McCulloch has never been accused of lacking.

He is the singer, lyricist and resident sex symbol of Echo and the Bunnymen, a band he genuinely believes is the cream of the 80s British post-punk crop. “'The Killing Moon’ (the band’s 1983 hit) is the best song a band has written since the 60s. I used to say our entire collection is the best, but I’ve got more humble!’’ he explains, with just a hint of a smile on the full lips known to drive admirers to distraction. Echo and the Bunnymen recently previewed their new self-titled album by performing on the roof of a London record store, just as some other band did on the Apple building in 1969, and you can bet your new Beatles’ CDs that their rendition of Twist and Shout’ was their way of proclaiming themselves a new Fabulous Four for the late 80s. John Lennon created a furore by declaring the Beatles bigger than Jesus, the unlamented Frankie Goes to Hollywood pushed the limits of arrogance, while Julian Cope calls himself Saint Julian ... these Liverpudlians are a big-mouthed bunch. But lan McCulloch’s self confidence is justified by his band’s status as one of the most perennially popular British rock ensembles of the decade. Dilemma The traditional “here today, gone tomorrow" dilemma of trendy UK pop bands hasn’t been faced by Echo and the Bunnymen. Their four previous albums (plus a singles compilation, Songs to Learn and Sing) have all been British hits, and their stirring live performances have made them concert favourites. I’ve been a convert ever since witnessing the very first London Bunnymen gig back in 1979, when the drum stool was still occupied by Echo, the drum machine.

For years I endured the barbs of cynical friends for championing a group with a name that sounds like the title of a children’s book, but the tide is turning. Reaction to their new album is positive, as was the response to an American tour with New Order. But America’s taken a while to crack — why is that, lan? The nattily dressed young man pauses for reflection, scanning the city streets beneath his hotel room window for the appropriate answer. “I don't believe that cutting corners gets

you anywhere. The fact that we’re still together, down to earth, and relatively normal is down to taking our time. If someone says, You’ve got to do this, we’ll say, No, we’re going to have a year off instead. “As a group, we’ve never had a plan to get from A to Z. It was always to go through the whole alphabet, because every letter has something worthwhile. A lot of bands sit down to find the quickest way to Z. We’ve never done that. I guess we’re at about M now!”

AWOL A year ago, it seemed as if their letter was K for Kaput. Drummer Pete de Freitas went AWOL, formed a new band the Sex Gods, and went on a wild Merry Pranksters-style rampage through New Orleans and Jamaica. Down to a trio again, the Bunnymen worked on a new LP, but the sessions didn’t work out and rumours of their impending demise spread. But the Echo bounced back. Pete’s trespasses (and long-distance phone bills) were forgiven, Laurie Latham (Paul Young, the Stranglers) was recruited as producer, and the revitalised band cooped themselves up in various stuidos for six months recording Echo and the Bunnymen. The three-year wait since Ocean Rain has seen Echo and the Bunnymen crystallise their sound into a commercial, yet still compelling, form. It is a refinement of, rather than a radical departure from, their signature moody and majestic style. So are they playing it real safe? “Some of the criticism of this LP in England is that it is not more exploratory, but that is conscious. People always look to us to innovate, to lead the way, and I just thought we’d play it fairly straight. I thought I’d let all those new bands think up something for themselves! [The Bunnymen have been a crucial influence on English rock — just ask the Mighty Lemon Drops.] “Mind you, I think the songs are quite weird anyway!”

Whimsy Indeed, you won’t find peers like U2 and Simple Minds loosening up with a piece of psychedelic whimsy like 'Bedbugs and Ballyhoo,’ but then the Liverpool lads have always possessed a lyrical and musical sense of humour conspicuously, lacking in

the work of the serious Celtic stadium rockers. It is well known in critical circles that U2 have been long-time Echo and the Bunnymen fans, and it is not extravagant to suggest that McCulloch’s singing and songwriting and Will Sergeant’s ringing guitar work left a mark on Bono and the Edge. “With the new U2 LP,” says McCulloch, “a lot of people came out and said there were traces of Echo in there, and I could see that. He’s changed his style of singing a bit, under-playing certain things. “I know they’ve all been fans of ours, except for Ocean Rain, presumably because it wasn’t a rock album. Back then, I was thinking, wait until Bono and co hear this — they’re still singing anthems!” Don’t misjudge McCulloch; he’s not bitter or jealous of U2’s success. “If there are going to be stadium bands, then better U2 than Foreigner. Their goal seems to be being the biggest rock band of the 80s. In the alphabet, they’re already Z, I don’t know where they can go from there.” The Bunnymen’s goal is loftier than packing huge stadiums and pushing megamillion units.

“I’m ambitious in that I’ve always wanted to go down in history as being important, as being great, as having something,” says McCulloch. “Not necessarily just on the mi icir <?ide. but to stamp our personality and individuality as people and as a group entity. We want people to say, That’s Echo and the Bunnymen — they did it their way! That plus, They wrote 'Killing Moon,’ is all I’d want or need to hear on my deathbed.

Remote Doing it their way has seen the Bunnymen play some of the most unlikeliest locales ever for rock ’n’ roll — the remote Isle of Skye off Scotland, the Peak District, and London’s historic Royal Albert Hall. “I don’t ever see us playing the really massive places,” insists McCulloch. “It works for U2, because that is a one-dimensional rockist thing, with everyone joining in. But we’re about fragility as much as power. You have to be able to hear a pin drop when we’re doing ‘Ocean Rain’ or ‘Killing Moon.’ “A football pitch is a football pitch.”

Fragility coupled with power. That is just about the essence of the Echo sound.

McCulloch’s inspirations are Leonard Cohen, Jacques Brel, Lou Reed and Jim Morrison, which helps account for the poetic thrust of his lyrics and vocals. The Doors are the reference point most commonly tossed McCulloch’s way. “I only really started listening to them after people said I sounded like Jim Morrison. If someone said you sounded like Frank Partridge, you’d probably make more of an effort to hear Frank Partridge, whoever he is! “Originally, I couldn’t see the comparison. The Doors were very bluesy, whereas we were always more choppy, more English. Maybe it is the phrasing. First, I had wanted to sound like David Bowie, but gradually I thought, yes, Morrison does sound like a man, doesn’t he, whereas the Bowie voice was more ethereal, more outer-space. I guess I got more into the earthy, manly side.”

Libido The erotic and sensual are of increasing appeal to lan McCulloch; marriage and fatherhood (a year-old daughter) don’t seem to have diminished the lad’s libido. “I like that sexy element more than ever now. It is more important than proving you’re a moody young man, and it gets people going! Learning not to be precious is something I’ve learned since Ocean Rain.” The Doors’ legend clearly retains a potent attraction for McCulloch. A magazine ad for the best-selling Doors Live video catches his eye — “Is this from when Jim was still the

Lizard King?” he enquires. Turns out Ray Manzarek is a big Echo and the Bunnymen fan, and he persuaded them to cover the Doors’ classic ‘People are Strange’ for the soundtrack of the vampire film The Lost Boys (Manzarek produced the .song also). ... “If.he sees nothing wrong with us doing a Doors’ song, I don’t see why anyone else would/’ says McCulloch. Even if the Bunnymen hop becomes hip in the States, don’t expect McCulloch and his comrades to desert their beloved Merseyside home. “Liverpool is a ■ beautiful place, it is not bleak at all, and I hate it being portrayed as such,” says McCulloch, referring to the “dead end streets” image of the city given in films like No Surrender and Letter to Brezhnev. ■' ? He’s fiercely proud of the city and. its people. “They’re probably the cleverest people' in England. Even the stupidest people have learned to get by. They should channel that and take over England, or move Parliament from London to Liverpool.” Defiance When his local, left-wing city council openly defied the Tory government, McCulloch says he was “quite proud, even though they turn out as much bullshit as Downing Street. I just thought it funny that of all places to say no, it had to be Liverpool." The hypocrisy of politicians as well as television evangelists is the theme of ‘All in Your Mind,’ a new song that fits the American controversies superbly: "All you thieving wheeler dealers in the healing zone ...” Similarly, an early Echo favourite.‘All That Jazz’ was aimed at “potential fascists and left-wingers — that flock of sheep out there that are led through their lives. ‘See you at the barricades babe’ was a bit of a rip-off of Paul Simon’s line ‘Slip out the back, Jack.’ It was a fanciful way of saying something slightly heavy.” Not that this is a message band. Mood and atmosphere take precedence, or as McCulloch was recently quoted as saying, “I’d rather be known as a good singer than a writer of obscure metaphysical poetry!” “I want to be singing when I’m 40 [he’s now 28], but I don’t know what style. Yes, maybe Jacques Brel or Leonard Cohen — his last album was brillT Here’s one. Echo, that intends to fade away slowly and gracefully.

Kerry Doole