Noise: SFBG Music Blog - Live Review: Echo and the Bunnymen, Fox Theatre, 10/22/09

Photos by David Schnur, text by Marke B.

Ian McCulloch, dark and lovely

Somewhat surprisingly sprinkled with young fans, a rapturous crowd received '80s guitar-pop heroes -Echo and the Bunnymen with open arms and singalong voices at the Fox on Thursday. The two remaining Bunnymen, singer Ian McCulloch and guitarist Will Sergeant, definitely still had it, recreating with ease the big sound and goth-romantic poetry that positioned the Bunnymen in a direct line from Joy Division to U2 -- even wearing more of their original influences on their sleeves, with covers of the Doors and Lou Reed and new material that reflected their admiration for Oasis.

The main attraction for this overdue valedictory tour was the inclusion of a 10+ member orchestra to recreate in full the Bunnymen's most ambitious album, 1984's Ocean Rain, which was just lovely, if the sound was a bit muddy at times. No one can resist the beauty of such tunes as "Killing Moon" -- if you were a kid when it came out, the spooky and then-unique juxtaposition of bunny drum machines, lunar jewels, strummed steel strings, and cosmic murder was mindblowing, and those shivers returned in ample waves here.

Will Sergeant, left, creating his indelible sound

If I was a little disappointed at the failure to really capitalize on the orchestra's presence and take the tunes into orbit (there's a lovely, churning bolero hidden inside "Nocturnal Me" just aching to be foregrounded and extended -- and I would have died fulfilled if they had included their most string-dependent, non-Ocean Rain work, "Never Stop"), the total outcome was riveting. I'm sure just as many in the audience were glad none of these pieces were "reinterpreted."

It wasn't until the second half of the concert, though, once the orchestra had been shucked and the collars loosened, that the real power of McCulloch and Sergeant came to the fore, with the notoriously light-sensitive McCulloch engaging in friendly yet uninterpretable Liverpudlian-brogue banter with the crowd, and repeatedly admonishing the light guy to "turn everything the fuck down" -- and switching between several pairs of sunglasses during the set. This is when the other hits started coming, including a pogo-ready version of "Cutter," its invocation against death made more poignant by the years and the death last month, in a motorcycle accident, of original keyboardist Jake Brockman. (Genius drummer Pete de Freitas also died in a motorcycle accident in 1989. Bassist Les Pattinson left the group in 1999, soon after its reformation, effectively extinguishing the original rhythm section that had made the Bunnymen post-punk dance legends. But the new guys here were good.)

That "big sound" soon rang throughout the Fox, and encompassed the old and new material, seemlessly incorporating versions of "Walk on the Wild Side" and "Roadhouse Blues," even Wilson Pickett's 1965 "In the Midnight Hour." The Bunnymen have been incorporating snippets of the Beatles, James Brown, and Nat King Cole(!) -- plus deconstructing "The Twist" -- in their songs since 1982, so this was nothing too new. But it felt more urgent, less snide. This tour has been heralded by critics as an effort by the Bunnymen to claim a legacy and reposition themselves on the rock continuum -- not just make middle-aged New Wavers get all oogy with nostalgia. This particular performance seemed to achieve all those things in spades.