Echo and the Bunnymen

Release cometido em “Balyhoo” (1997), coletânea da banda, por produtor Bill Drummond:

“We were in the back of a transit van, careering down a highway.
Nobody was at the wheel and nobody knew where we were going.
The journey started in seventy nine, I fell out of the back door somewhere in the mid-eighties, I picked myself up, dusted myself down and walked away.

If I was to bring myself to listen to the tracks on this records, they would drag up too many memories I would rather remain buried. Memories of lies, deciet (sic), hatred, hotel floors, drug dealers, transit vans, acid trips, broken amplifiers, girls, service stations, loss of innocence, corrupt road crews, missed oportunities, vanity, broken promises, shit gigs, bad sex, crap mixes, late VAT returns, petulance, incompetence, petty rivalry and Pete DeFreitas dying.

I make myself a pot of tea.
Read the above and remember.
I love Echo and the Bunnymen more than I have loved any band before or since.
And not because.
Echo and the Bunnymen embodied all the great archetypes of the classic band: a drummer who new (sic) how to have a good time; a bass player who knew how to keep everybody in time; a guitarist who was introverted, twisted, bitter and fucking brilliant and a singer who had the lips, hair, voice, words and all that other stuff that you have to have from a Parthenon drive frontman.
But because.
Within the soul of Echo and the Bunnymen there was a pure aspiration that trancended all those would-be dragged up memories. It’s as if The Bunnymen were going for some ultimate but undefinable glory.
A glory beyond all glories where the gates are flung open and all you can see is this golden light shinning down on you, bathing you, cleaning all the grime and shit from the dark corners of your soul.
You know what I mean?
Good.
I drink my tea“.