While doing some research into Heaven Up Here, I came across a few reviews published around the time of the album’s initial release. One thing I found interesting is that a number of reviews referred to the album as the band’s least accessible collection for those not familiar to Echo & the Bunnymen, which is funny because, while listening to it, I couldn’t help but thinking the same exact thing. That being said, I felt “eh” about this album. I have not glaring complaints and it was a much welcome follow-up to the travesty involving having to listen to that shite album Hysteria, but I have nothing glowing to say about the album either.
For the most part, I enjoyed the album and, while I lack the great story Mike has concerning this album and its’ 4am appearances, I feel that not only would it be a fantastic album to listen to at such a late hour, but I couldn’t help to picture myself lying on my bed in the 80’s, staring at the ceiling, listening to the nuances of this album. To be honest, I even tried it, but there is something about it that the 80’s decade adds to its’ importance and effect. I loved the musicianship on the album. It is incredibly impressive how Will Sergeant is able to take such simple notes and construct them in a fashion that creates a composition so ethereal and overwhelming. There are just things that Sergeant does that most other bands couldn’t pull off or wouldn’t even attempt. For that, I thank him. Seriously, the album is worth listening to for this reason alone. On the other hand, Ian McCulloch’s voice, which finds itself between Morrissey’s croon and Michael Stipe’s spastic franticness (but not as enjoyable), can at times position itself as an additional instrument, but usually just invokes irritation from the listener (a.k.a. me). Despite this, one can still appreciate the work as a cohesive unit.
I don’t see myself listening to this album consistently, but then again I don’t have the background to go with it that Mike fortunately carries with him. I think some albums and their respective greatness are aided by the memories of their time and, in this case, I missed that boat due to my age and inexperience. Nonetheless, a decent album, but I am still confused as to its’ placement on the list. I’ll leave this one as an “OK,” if not for anything else than the fact that anything is better than Def Leppard’s epic garbage.
Formed by Ian McCulloch after he was fired from an early version of the Teardrop Explodes by Julian Cope, Echo & the Bunnymen are a bit of a surprise entry on the list. Not that they shouldn’t get that respect, but I just wouldn’t expect the average person to remember this album. There hasn’t been anything else quite like this in our previous reviews. Husker Du comes close at times, but never reaches this level of art rock. This is really the antithesis of Hysteria. Lyrics that clearly took thought, but also inspire thinking on the listeners part. Solid musicianship with creative verses and original lines. Thank God…..
It’s hard to really describe the songs on this album. This is true artistic brilliance at work. A perfect example is the closer, “All I Want”. Ever changing, each section feels like a new wave washing over you. There’s touches of Gang of Four style punk-funk, a healthy dose of British psychedelica ala the aforementioned Mr. Cope , even some Talking Heads-ish percussion backings. There’s more going on in that song than a lot of bands touch on in their entire careers. But it never seems congested even though it could have been a train wreck.
“All My Colours” rides a busy drum part as the rest of the band lays out, letting quiet touches of feedback and echo wrap around you. Again a very trippy number with repeating chants and flourishes of piano. This is 2am music. Actually, the album used to be in the jukebox at my favorite all night pizza and beer joint on campus and I’d always put this on around four in the morning after all the musicians had stumbled in from their gigs and the queens were sashaying through because the drag shows had let out. Vivid memory right there, I still smell the smoke and perfume, mixing with garlic and the stench of years of spilled beer. I will forever relate this song to the image of makeup-smeared napkins, crumpled beside the hairy forearms of Marilyn Monroe and Liza Minnelli.
Aaaaannndd… back to the music. I’m really having trouble finding anything to dislike. Inventive bass lines and unconventional drumming keep this record from falling into one of the traps of early 80’s British alternative groups: terrible rhythm sections. But Will Sergeant steals the show with his impeccable guitar playing. At times sparse, at others layered; he always knows what to play and when to shut up. Perfect.
Great stuff that anyone can enjoy. Heaven Up Here runs through a constant state of evolution, never sounding the same for more than a few minutes but making those transitions in gradual enough increments to be completely natural. Should be in anyone’s collection.
-tfm
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