Release Date: 30th May, 1981
Label: Korova
Producers: Hugh Jones/The Bunnymen
Standout Tracks: Over the Wall/Heaven Up Here/All My Colours
Buy: https://www.roughtrade.com/gb/echo-and-the-bunnymen/heaven-up-here-rocktober-exclusive
Stream: https://open.spotify.com/album/2jnfTHz4rKiOXbpU88TpNS?si=MXqa8wVFRYe4tDRzCLiDmg&dl_branch=1
Review:
“The most notable totem of Echo And The Bunnymen was the much-profiled frontman. Naturally, teenage me was fixated by Ian McCulloch. Here was a man who was so much more than a pop singer. He was an icon and a poet, a spokesman for a generation. Sure, he was dripping in confidence, brash, arrogant and absolutely certain of his genius, but aren’t your heroes supposed to be? You sensed that McCulloch had taken himself away and immersed himself in the works of Scott Walker and Baudelaire. For him, this was about so much more than pop music. It really mattered to him, it was life and death, and because of that we bought into it. He was our Jim Morrison, our Lou Reed. He truly believed that The Bunnymen were the greatest band on the planet and, for a few short years, he was absolutely correct. Ian McCulloch was everything that me and my kind always aspired to, but never actually believed we could be. His lyrics, mysteriously enigmatic, were pored over incessantly and, just like Dylan, much would be made of his words. I mean, who or what is “Zimbo” anyway? The music press leapt to the conclusion that because his words were hard to decipher, they must be drug-induced. They were described as “psychedelic”, with a knowing nod and wink. This infuriated McCulloch, who railed at the lazy journalism and informed the world that if the lyrics had a dream-like quality that was possibly down to the fact that he based them on his dreams. You know, the kind we all have.
As a frontman, he was peerless, exuding magnetism; all eyes on him. But musically, Echo And The Bunnymen were a band of equals. I’ve already mentioned de Freitas’s powerful drumming, providing a rolling and pounding foundation to the beautifully atmospheric All My Colours. Listen too to how he propels A Promise, driving it on relentlessly. To think they had initially tried to get the band off the ground with a drum machine (the famous Echo) in the seat ultimately taken by de Freitas. In absolute harmony with those beats, we had the incredibly underrated bass playing of Les Pattinson. His brilliance slaps you right in the face in the first five seconds when his bass line kicks into the opening track, Show Of Strength. And then again, immediately afterwards on With A Hip, when his riff coils around the entire song, transforming it into a glorious sliver of sheer funk. Together, de Freitas and Pattinson formed a rhythm section that were the nonpareil of their era.
However, brilliant as de Freitas and Pattinson are, stunning as McCulloch’s singing and lyrics are, the star of Heaven Up Here is guitarist Will Sergeant. There are certain guitarists who you know immediately, the second you hear them. Johnny Marr is one, Wilko Johnson another. Will Sergeant fits that epithet perfectly. Apparently, he substituted his plectrum for a pair of scissors at one point in recording. Imagine Salvador Dali had been a barber? There’s the sound. At other times he is incisive, like Errol Flynn with a rapier. Heaven Up Here is comprised of a plethora of sounds and textures that materialise from Sergeant’s six-string. There’s no question that his playing has evolved since their debut the previous year. He is no longer playing songs. Instead, he is creating vivid soundscapes out of complex layers. He soars in Show Of Strength and Over The Wall; manufactures gorgeously simple, yet memorable, solos like the one in With A Hip. He flits from the jangling treble of It Was A Pleasure to the distorted buzzsaw of the title track. Such incredible versatility. He is at his very best though when the distortion is minimised and he makes his notes ring out with the clarity of crystal. Do It Clean, Will.
Theoretically speaking, as a band, Echo And The Bunnymen were yet to peak. The follow-up to Heaven Up Here, Porcupine, is technically more accomplished. But despite many more highlights, and several hit singles, they never crafted an album quite like Heaven Up Here again. As great as Porcupine and 1997’s hugely underrated Evergreen are, they cannot match Heaven Up Here in terms of being such a coherent and impactful collection. That’s all down to the songs. With A Hip is as bold and innovative as anything the band ever did. The pop sensibility of A Promise is the equal of The Back Of Love or The Killing Moon and to this day I am astonished that it wasn’t as commercially successful. The intensely smouldering Over The Wall is pure melodrama, whilst All My Colours is unadulterated spiritual, handed down from the heavens on tablets of stone. We have the sublime, shimmering swagger of Turquoise Days and the brooding portentousness of Show Of Strength. In total, there are eleven songs. Eleven jewels in a sparkling crown. No filler.
For forty years, Heaven Up Here has been a constant companion. It’s an album that has lifted me up and laid me down again, so many times. Over the years, it has been relegated down the ranks in my ongoing mental league table of albums. Once dominant, from ’81 to ’86 when it was unrivalled, it became a top three album for about a decade. Today it has stabilised. Most of the time I would place it top six, comfortably. Somedays, another great album will challenge it, but it never drops out of the top ten. I doubt it ever will” – Louder Than War
Choice Cut: A Promise
