Echo & the Bunnymen bring their very best to Brighton
The band brought a setlist full of classic hits and deep cuts for a night that took everyone back to the 1980s.
Photo: Press
The band lucky enough to support the Echo & the Bunnymen on their UK tour were Mutant Vinyl. I’d never heard of them before and, when doing some research before the gig, I couldn’t find much on them at all, so I went in relatively blind. I absolutely loved it and thought that they were the kind of band I’d love to see headlining in a small venue.
Instrumental jazz rang out through the Brighton Centre, and they seemed to play a mix of their own material and some jazz standards slipped in between. Two sax players added a real smoothness to the set — they’re definitely a group I would see again if given the chance. That being said, I do think that they were an interesting choice to support a band like Echo & the Bunnymen; to me, the two bands couldn’t really be more different, and I was thoroughly disappointed in the lack of dancing and movement from the standing members of the audience, as I personally loved it. The songs transitioned straight into one another, so there was no chatting in between songs (which, again, contrasts Echo & the Bunnymen greatly), and they exited the stage quietly as the stage crew got on with setting up the equipment for the headliner.
Echo & the Bunnymen didn’t grace the stage until 9:15pm, by which point the venue seemed pretty full and, as the opening notes of Going Up filled the venue, the lights went off, and we were all taken back to the music scene of Liverpool in the 1980s.
All That Jazz followed shortly after; starting with these up-tempo tracks was a great way to start the show, as you could feel the energy radiating from the audience, and the instrumentals of the song were particularly strong thanks to Will Sergeant’s immaculate guitar skills.
By a few songs into the show, I was able to really take in the visuals of the performance. A large screen stood behind the band, projecting a range of graphics (some featuring a muscular bunny, or the iconic ship from Ocean Rain). This enhanced the performance, as most of the band seemed quite standstill for the majority of the set. The lighting was coordinated with the rhythm of the music — at points it was almost blinding — and the perhaps excessive use of dry ice meant that, for the most part, Ian McCulloch was obscured from view.
McCulloch seemed particularly energised towards the beginning of the set, even exclaiming in between tracks that he was ‘in a good mood’ (he later went on to ramble about his dislike for Morrissey as well as the process of recycling plastic water bottles), but before midway through the performance, he requested a stool and performed the rest of the setlist seated.
His voice seemed to hold up quite well (especially considering the Manchester date only a few days before was cancelled at short notice due to illness), and lent itself especially wonderfully to his rendition of Nothing Lasts Forever merged with Lou Reed’s Walk On the Wild Side. At points, McCulloch seemed eager for the audience to sing the choruses for him and, on certain songs (like Seven Seas), they definitely delivered, but, for the most part, I get the impression that the audience wasn’t nearly as loud as he had hoped.
There was one track in particular that I didn’t recognise, that harnessed an almost Doors-adjacent sound, specifically through the use of keys. This sound was a motif that I thought kept coming back throughout the setlist, like in Bedbugs and Ballyhoo, and was really refreshing to hear. Bedbugs and Ballyhoo was a track that I went into the venue excited for, and it’s definitely held up well over time, translating perfectly to a live show, with the psychedelic-esque visuals provided on the night aiding it perfectly.
They rounded off the set with Killing Moon, and the instrumental section will definitely stick with me for a while. The haunting guitar riffs found in the bridge were just incredible and, with the dim lights enhanced by a moon projected over the band, reminded me of why I enjoy their music so much, as it’s just so beautifully eerie.
The band left the stage, and soon enough re-emerged to play Lips Like Sugar. The audience eagerly sang along to this hit and, as I soaked in the last few notes of the hazy outro, people (me included) began getting up and leaving. As I walked up the staircase to leave the venue, I heard a sudden round of applause, and the band mounted the stage once again. Ocean Rain soundtracked the end of the night, and it was a great way to end the set: the wall of instruments hitting your ear like a drum.
More than 40 years on, Echo & the Bunnymen proved that their music can stand the test of time and intrigue generations to come, but that it’s perhaps not as polished as it was back in its prime.
