Live Review: Echo and The Bunnymen at the Vic Theatre
Echo & the Bunnymen
The Vic Theatre
November 24, 2018
Liverpool may have been put on the map by the Beatles, but Echo and the Bunnymen continue to prove that the town in Northwest England has other musical gifts to offer the world. On Saturday, the Bunnymen returned to Chicago with a six-piece lineup led by vocalist Ian McCulloch and influential alt-pop guitarist Will Sergeant. The two founding members were supported by a tightly-knit quartet of players that honored the bandâs legacy with power and heart.
The modern-day Bunnymen drew heavily upon the bandâs five albums between 1980 and 1987, beginning with âGoing Upâ from debut album Crocodiles. Clad in black from jacket to boots, McCulloch greeted Chicago thanked the crowd for coming in his signature heavy Liverpudlian accent. With a riveting version of âBedbugs and Ballyhoo,â McCulloch proved that his nicotine baritone required no warm-up period. âRescueâ got the seated Vic audience on its feet and dancing, as Sergeant slashed at his Fender Jaguar with precision and velocity. During âNever Stop,â Sergeantâs sinewy leads crafted a counterpoint to heighten the emotion of McCullochâs rich vocal.
Although the show was sold out, a couple of seats lingered empty at front and center. McCulloch took notice and thanked the “Invisible Man” for his attendance and support. A few songs later, force of nature McCulloch grew to abhor the void and declared the seats available to any fans in the back who wanted them. By the time the group launched the surging and urgent âVilliers Terraceâ and transitioned into the Doorsâ loping âRoadhouse Blues,â new faces were seen up front singing along with vigor.
The bandâs sound traveled into the present with flourishes echoing the transformed arrangements of classic songs like âAll My Colours (Zimbo)â on current album The Stars, the Oceans & the Moon. New song âThe Somnambulistâ found McCulloch still soul-searching and resolved to hold onto the power of dreams. The stirring hymn boded well for any new Bunnymen full-length album that might follow 2014âs Meteorites.
McCulloch was engaged with the crowd, although itâs reasonable to say that few could parse his accent. Before singing âNothing Lasts Forever,â McCulloch admitted the irony between being asked to tell more stories and then being told that no one could understand what he was saying. âTrust me, everything Iâm saying is genius,â he concluded with reliable bravado and humor.
People understood what was most important, though, as McCulloch stoked the crowd to stand and sing the anthemic âSeven Seas.â The room swayed to the vulnerable but hopeful âRustâ from 1999âs What Are You Going to Do With Your Life album, as the song carried the swagger of David Bowieâs (and Mott the Hoopleâs) anthemic âAll the Young Dudes.â
People also picked up McCullochâs meaning as he remarked upon his own inability to produce the siren whistle that greeted songs like âOver the Wallâ amongst the applause. McCulloch went around the stage, asking his bandmates whether they could produce such a high, shrill sound. The players on the back line shook their heads, but Sergeant produced a keening chirp that must have woken every dog within five blocks. Immediately afterward, the room was filled with ear-splitting whistles as McCulloch cracked a mischievous grin at what heâd incited.
The heavenly elegance of âBring on the Dancing Horsesâ was embellished by the intricate keyboard work and harp flourishes of keyboardist Jez Wing.
The main set concluded with spine-tingling âThe Killing Moonâ and the furious climax of âThe Cutter.â Although the band has performed these songs for more than 30 years, McCulloch was clearly still feeling it. The famously cocksure singer has proclaimed âThe Killing Moon,â in particular, as âthe greatest song ever written.â He sang the song for the Vic audience as if he still believes that assessment, wringing every last drop of pathos from the lyric while his longtime partner Sergeant stood to his right unfurling torrents of heavy weather with his teardrop-shaped Vox 12-string guitar.
The Bunnymen encored with the elation of âLips Like Sugarâ featuring Sergeantâs meaty, singalong guitar licks and McCullochâs passionate tremolo. Before concluding with the intoxicating âOcean Rain,â the singer recognized a particularly ardent pocket of fans near the front. âYouâre looking at me like Iâm Jesus Christ,â he said. âIâm not.â
âBut weâre all related to him,â McCulloch added, appealing to the crowd to spread love and care for friends, fellow fans, and strangers alike. âMac the Mouthâ sent the audience into the streets to carry that worthy message with them.
-Jeff Elbel
Category: Live Reviews











