http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/music_b ... -no-1.html
Through the sweaty haze of the night breeze I could just make out the strains of a song that I grew up loving, "Lips Like Sugar." Echo and the Bunnymen were onstage hosting a retrospective love-in.
Through the copious amounts of smoke that shot into the air from machines beside the stage, Ian McCulloch and the boys looked just how I remembered them from when I was a depressed tween who relished dying her hair purple and piercing her own navel with a sewing needle. So real was the mirage of youth that I did all I could to avoid looking at the giant screen next to the stage that showed the band up-close and revealed their actual age -- and by proxy -- my own.
"This is the greatest song ever written," said McCulloch before launching into a keyboard-heavy version of "The Killing Moon." A great song, true, but McCulloch could have skipped the pretentious hyperbole and simply relied on the good will of the aging and sentimental Friday night crowd.