It is Friday 30th November 2007, just before 1800, and I have just boarded a train at Paddington station back to Reading, which I’ve done hundreds of times before and since, but there is something novel about this occasion. I bought tickets to see Echo & The Bunnymen at the Royal Albert Hall the following September, performing their 1984 album Ocean Rain in full on a BlackBerry. Ordering up who knows what on a mobile phone to be here as soon as possible, be it a minicab, a takeaway, some groceries, or some racism, is now so commonplace that we all take it for granted. At the time, it felt like some form of wizardry to do something like that, not to go to a box office, phone a number or even open up a website on a desktop computer in a home or office. It is a crushing source of disappointment that such technological advancements are the source of many of the world’s problems rather than providing more solutions than issues.
Of course, like anything that happened a couple of years ago, it was over 15 years ago, almost as old as Ocean Rain was the first time I heard it at university. I am getting nostalgic about purchasing a ticket for a concert, which was very much the concert’s purpose in the first place.
The album’s title and closing track is one of the band’s enduring works. The album represents a pivotal moment in the band's career, showcasing their ability to build on their earlier incarnations and that post-punk energy with more mature and lush orchestral arrangements. Using sailing and storms as a metaphor, Ian McCulloch guides us through the tempestuous seas of his relationship in a quieter and toned-down song compared to some of the more dramatic and dynamic songs on the record. This song is full of dark imagery, and the backing of the sweeping string arrangements adds a menacing grandiosity to McCulloch’s longing introspection.
As a conclusion to an album that features Carnglaze Caverns on the cover, a song called ‘Seven Seas’ shows water is abundant, but this water is still. The water gives space for focus and contemplation as we sit in the eye of the storm, knowing that the literal and figurative hurricane is coming. When you listen to McCulloch’s lyrics about screaming from beneath the waves, you can only contrast the tranquil music as the strings rise in crescendo before they crash into silence.
As the closing track, ‘Ocean Rain’ serves as the emotional and thematic apex of the album. It weaves the moods and styles explored, from upbeat and energetic to introspective and richly textured. The song concludes the album and symbolises Echo & The Bunnymen's transition from their post-punk origins to a broader, more experimental sound palette. It acts as a bridge to their future explorations, marking Ocean Rain as a significant inflexion point in the band’s evolving musical narrative.
The Run Out Grooves Infinite Loops
I don't generally like the word "gorgeous" but it perfectly describes this album. Majestic, mercurial and magnificent are all good descriptions too.