http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/cult ... -back.html
A bit about the bunnymen near the end
I recently saw Echo and the Bunnymen play in Austin, Texas. They took the stage looking less like the strange and beautiful rock band they were than a bunch of overweight brickies. The crowd loved them, yelling "Awright!" at every Bunnymen classic, but
I have a history here. I followed the Bunnymen around in their Eighties heyday, when they were setting standards for everyone else, driven
by self-belief and a
desire to create sonic transformation.
They called themselves the greatest band in the world, and really believed it. Somewhere along the line, they broke up and reformed for the basest of reasons. The drummer had died. The bassist left to be a boatbuilder. What remains is not the Bunnymen; it's a mortgage-paying machine. And there is nothing wrong with this in the real world: everyone's got to live. But in my private musical universe, seeing the survivors and their henchmen milking the heritage buck feels like defeat. And, privately, they must feel it too. This was never supposed just to be "Awright!" Perversely, this is why we really celebrate the hold-outs, the idealists who refuse to get back together for reasons of a kind of aesthetic purity.