Here You Come Again, Acting Like A Saviour

Nantwich, a small market town in Cheshire, has had an annual festival called Words And Music running since 2008. Ian McCulloch appeared at it in 2015 and the organisers convinced him to come back this year. My parents retired to Nantwich ten years ago and when I saw the gig advertised months ago, my brother and I jumped in early and bought a pair of tickets. Ian and his band played the Civic Hall, a room with capacity of just 500, so a close up and intimate gig. I was expecting it to be Ian and acoustic guitar and was very pleasantly surprised to see amps, keyboards and the Bunnymen's drumkit set up on stage when we arrived. The Civic Hall's stage is low with no barriers and the room is seated cabaret style, making it feel informal and like a one off. Ian and band arrive on stage just after nine, Ian all in black, wearing shades for the entire gig, and in good form, chatting between songs and telling stories with a table of drinks next to him and several different beverages at hand. The band are loose, nicely ragged in places and more than able to do Bunnymen songs justice. They play a mixture of Bunnymen and Ian's solo songs, and the opening three songs make a good statement of intent, beginning with 1989's Proud To Fall, followed by Rescue and then a lovely, groovy version of Bedbugs And Ballyhoo. 

Proud To Fall

They play Ian's cover of Leonard Cohen's Lover Lover Lover, recorded for his second solo album 1992's Mysterio, a song I saw him play when he toured to promote that almost exactly thirty years previously at Manchester University student union, a night he studiously ignored Bunnymen songs. 

Lover, Lover, Lover

All My Colours (Zimbo) gets an airing, the stage dark and the purple lights setting the lyrics off perfectly. He dips back into his solo debut Candleland with the title track, originally sung as a duet with Liz Fraser, Ian's voice a little raspier than it was in 1989. Seven Seas gets a huge cheer and some dancers moving to the front. Nothing Lasts Forever is played, a song which when I saw Echo And the Bunnymen play it at Manchester's Albert Hall back in February reduced me to a sobbing mess- it doesn't have quite the same, full on emotional impact on me tonight but I'm not completely dry eyed either. It breaks down in the middle and they segue into Walk On The Wild Side. Rust from 1999's second Bunnymen comeback album is Ian at his most reflective. Bring On The Dancing Horses is a highlight, wobbly synth sound, ringing guitars and streamlined groove filling the room, there's a dash through The Velvet Underground's I'm Waiting For The Man and eventually, inevitably, a finale of The Killing Moon.

Ian and the band return for an encore with Lips Like Sugar, a song fully reclaimed from 1987's self- titled, below par album (it's an album and a song I have a lot of love for but pales in comparison to the four that came before it and was a victim of 80s production, inter- band band tensions and a little disinterest from some parties). Then they disappear again. Just as it seems they've definitely decided not to come back for a second encore and half the crowd are putting coats on and beginning to head for the doors, they re- appear and give us a driving, fired up The Cutter. 

The Cutter

McCulloch is sixty two years old, he doesn't really have anything to prove. Echo And The Bunnymen have toured much of the year and were in North America in September. Playing gigs like this is good for him, a way of mixing it up a little I guess, and good for us, seeing him close up and clearly enjoying himself. 

I have tickets for Pete Wylie at Night And Day next Sunday, another scouse post- punk legend in a small venue. If someone can arrange for Julian Cope to play Sale Waterside or Stretford Public Hall the weekend after, I can complete a Crucial Three October hat trick.