It turns out that 18th July 1980 was a pretty good day. I didn’t really know it at the time; I  had only just turned 12 and was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Vader was Luke’s father. My football team though had recently won the first division title for the twelfth time and looked like dominating for the rest of the decade (they did). The lovely Olivia Newton-John was at number one and I was about to break up from school for the summer. Life was good.

The date in question was actually a doubly good day. Not only was the debut album of Echo & the Bunnymen released, but also Joy Division’s Closer. Clearly, at the time I missed these completely. I had no idea at all that either existed. I was living beside the seaside in south-east Kent – Thatcher heartland – and about as far removed from the brooding writings of McCulloch and Curtis as you could get.

It wasn’t to be for another four years before I bought my first Bunnymen cassette, Ocean Rain, released appropriately on Star Wars Day (May the Fourth) in 1984. I can’t remember the exact date in which I finally got my hands on a copy of Crocodiles, but when I did, I’m sure I thought ‘where the hell have I been?’ The version that I first bought (again, cassette) had the expanded album on it, complete with ‘Do It Clean’ and ‘Read It In Books‘, foolishly omitted from the original UK release because some record company exec thought they had rude words in.

Crocodiles – like Closer – is a post-punk masterpiece. Listening to it again today, it remains as fresh and frantic as ever. It sounds even better on ‘Do It Clean‘, the live album released in 2011. Recorded at the Liverpool Olympia on 11th December 2010, the band play their first two albums back-to-back. It’s an absolute tour de force and a timely reminder as to why they are one of the finest bands live. Next year the Bunnymen go on tour ‘celebrating 40 years of magical songs’. I see from their website that they’ve already sold out the original dates at London, Glasgow, Manchester and Liverpool.

Rewind then 40 years to the very beginning. I’m pretending I’m in charge of the setlist and have to select only three ‘magical’ songs from Crocodiles. This is what I’d choose:

Rescue

Kicking off side two, ‘Rescue’ has always been a live favourite and is rarely off the setlist. As the opener on 2002s ‘Live In Liverpool‘, Will Sergeant’s guitar slices through the fog to kick off proceedings. It clearly remains close to the band’s heart, as a slower, more Doorsy  version appears on their more recent release, ‘The Stars, The Oceans & The Moon’. Produced by fellow Scouser, Ian Broudie (later of The Lightening Seeds), ‘Rescue‘ was the band’s second single off the album and was the first to chart (at 62). It was released a few months before Crocodiles, and so was a perfect taster of things to come. Along with the scything guitar and rumbling blues, we got an early glimpse of McCulloch’s deadpan lyrics: ‘Things are wrong / Things are going wrong / Can you tell that in a song?’ You bet. 

Pictures On My Wall

As magical records and opening statements go, the band certainly found the winning formula, straight from the off with their debut single. ‘Pictures’ is even more remarkable, given that, (a) the original single version is not the one that ends up on the UK album, and (b) neither does the B-side, ‘Read It in Books’ that is probably even better. (And hardly surprising seeing as it was co-written by Julian Cope before he went off to form his own band.) The original 7-inch was recorded before Pete de Freitas joined the band almost a year earlier, the drums of course being provided at the time by ‘Echo’. It was then re-recorded with the real drums for the Crocodiles release and the band never looked back.

All That Jazz

This track was never going to make it as a single. It was far too brutal and ballsy, serving more as a call-to-arms than chart fodder. ‘All That Jazz’ is where we really hear for the first time how tight the Bunnymen were as a band. It’s as if the four of them are marching along playing in time to the bombs as they explode around them on their way to war: ‘Where the hell have you been? / We’ve been waiting with our best suits on / Hair slicked back and all that jazz.’ McCulloch seems quite at home nailing his anger issues firmly to the mast, and is a foreboding taste of things to come. Yes indeed, ‘See you at the barricades, babe.’ In fact, the whole song feels like a battle between drummer and guitarist as the two stomp on and stab each other time after time, until the final snare cuts us all off at the knees.