Echo & the Bunnymen is the greatest of the first wave of British post-punk to be mostly remembered for that time you watched “Donnie Darko” while kind of drunk. The core quartet of singer Ian McCulloch, guitarist Will Sergeant, bassist Les Pattinson, and drummer Pete de Freitas had all the talent of the Smiths or Joy Division, but the temerity to say they liked the Doors and thus never really acquired the same kind of legendary status as some of their peers.
That is one of the great tragedies of modern rock because Echo & the Bunnymen have gone the distance, and while Morrissey has devolved into a plush mascot for racists, and no one in New Order will even look at each other anymore (except maybe the married ones), McCulloch and company are still going strong. We’re here to show you why.
Also, no, Echo isn’t the name of a drum machine. Stop saying that.
13. Reverberation (1990)
First things first, “Reverberation” should consider itself fucking lucky to be on this list, even in last place. We would gladly kick this album out of here for not featuring Ian McCulloch in any capacity and replacing him with singer Noel Burke, but at the end of the day, it’s still officially in the discography. The funny thing is, it’s actually a pretty decent early 1990s alternative rock album, but this band is Echo & the Bunnymen like Dunkaroos are edible food: just barely.
Play It Again: “Flaming Red”
Skip It: “Freaks Dwell”
12. The Stars, the Oceans & the Moon (2018)
“The Stars, the Oceans & the Moon” is that most dreaded of cash-ins, a re-recorded album of greatest hits that just remind you how good the band used to be. That said, Ian McCulloch’s now-weathered voice and new arrangements by Will Sergeant at least give a lesser-known banger like “Nothing Lasts Forever” a little more air, even if the opener “Bring on the Dancing Horses” isn’t bringing anything a 55-year-old with four bourbons in them can’t give you at karaoke. Stick to the originals.
Play It Again: “Nothing Lasts Forever”
Skip It: “Bedbugs & Ballyhoo”
11. Flowers (2001)
The best cut on an album is called “It’s Alright,” and that’s an easy joke we’re not above making. By the time Echo & the Bunnymen proper had gotten back together, British retro-psychedelia was beginning to peter out on the last fumes of Brit-pop, and “Flowers” just didn’t have much to offer than weird titles and McCulloch’s still powerful voice. It’s not quite an album treading water, but this is unquestionably an album that can’t quite decide what kind of band made it.
Play It Again: “It’s Alright” (We were joking, it rips)
Skip It: “Buried Alive”
10. Siberia (2005)
Okay, the guys managed to get their shit together. “Siberia” is a significant step up from “Flowers” on pretty much every level, even if it seems designed in a lab to make guys with horn-rim glasses say they liked the early stuff better. It is unreasonable to ask a band in its fourth decade to come up with something as good as “The Killing Moon,” so we’re not going to. By this point, the band was whittled down to just Ian McCulloch and Will Sergeant, Les Pattinson having left after the first two reunion albums and Pete de Freitas dying in a tragic car accident. “Siberia” is pretty solid for half the crew being gone.
Play It Again: “Stormy Weather”
Skip It: “Make Us Blind”
9. The Fountain (2009)
With “The Fountain,” Echo & the Bunnymen managed to do something astonishing for a veteran band: making something fucking weird. There’s a looseness to the band’s 11th album that was missing over the last few releases, which doesn’t exactly put it up there in the pantheon, but it’s good to hear Ian McCulloch and Will Sergeant having fun again. While the band has always been known for its eccentricity and intense guitar lines, discovering they knocked out a bizarre 1960s pop throwback like “Proxy” or the pun-filled “Shroud of Turin” really does make you appreciate that they still try. Plus, “Proxy” really is goofy.
Play It Again: “Proxy”
Skip It: “Shroud of Turin”
8. Meteorites (2014)
“Meteorites” is the kind of album that you expect to act as the capstone to a legendary career, full of deep emotions that are wasted on idiots like us and infused with a palpable world-weariness. Then Echo & the Bunnymen kept making albums, so it does spoil the effect somewhat, but this is still the best of the band’s post-2000 albums by a fairly wide margin. Teaming up with producer Youth (formerly of Killing Joke) infuses the album with a more full, polished sheen than Echo & the Bunnymen fans might be used to, but honestly, what could you expect from these guys by this point?
Play It Again: “Lovers on the Run”
Skip It: “Constantinople”
7. Crocodiles (1980)
Didn’t expect to see the band’s debut album, “Crocodiles,” all the way down here on the list, did you? That’s right, we’re crazy. But while “Crocodiles” has ferocious, astonishing tracks like “Rescue and “Do It Clean,” Ian McCulloch and the rest still had a lot of work to do before they really figured out the trippy, abrasive near-pop that that would make them immortal. “Crocodiles” is like watching a future champion play in a minor league; impressive, but still just AAA ball. Plus, they called a song “All That Jazz.” Just… don’t do that.
Play It Again: “Rescue”
Skip It: “All That Jazz”
6. Evergreen (1997)
“Evergreen” was Echo & the Bunnymen’s big shot at relevancy during the Britpop years; hell, they even brought in Liam Gallagher at his hoarsest on backing vocals for “Nothing Last Forever,” which he probably did for half a bottle of vodka and some shit-talking. In many ways, “Evergreen” is the band’s most elegant work, full of huge, immaculately constructed ballads like “Forgiven” and “Empire State Halo.” Of course, the 1990s were a stupid time, and “Evergreen” didn’t get the rapturous reception it deserved. Instead, it went to the Spice Girls, so think about that for a while.
Play It Again: “Forgiven”
Skip It: “Baseball Bill”
5. What Are You Going to Do with Your Life? (1999)
After “Evergreen” briefly charted and then disappeared into the dreams of middle-aged music nerds, Ian McCulloch and Will Sergeant regrouped for the softest, most pensive record of their career together. That doesn’t mean that Sergeant tones down the legendary angularity of his guitar work or that the duo was above throwing a brass section into a few tracks like “When It All Blows Over.” “What Are You Going to Do with Your Life?” can be summed up in a word: bittersweet, which feels appropriate for a band that, on some level, knew they had their last real shot about breaking big.
Play It Again: “What Are You Going to Do with Your Life?”
Skip It: “Lost on You”
4. Heaven Up Here (1981)
Echo & the Bunnymen’s second album improves on “Crocodiles” in virtually every way, including not having a terrible title. According to Les Pattinson, the band’s laziness basically corralled them into finding some kind of rhythm together, and thank god for that. “Heaven Up Here” stands shoulder to shoulder with the Cure’s “Faith” and Pornography” in terms of sheer atmospheric dread and spiraling instrumental madness, which probably means the two bands were sharing some of the same dealers. It is also likely the least commercial of all the band’s efforts, but sometimes you don’t need to be trying to achieve greatness.
Play It Again: “A Promise”
Skip It: “It Was a Pleasure”
3. Self-Titled (1987)
“Echo & the Bunnymen” is the apex of the band as an attempted commercial entity, which makes sense when you know they fired the weirdo from the KLF as manager and got Duran Duran’s tour guy instead. If the band had been able to get Ian McCulloch from descending into Jim Morrison-like drunken stardom, it might have been their finest achievement, up there with huge cultural crossovers like U2’s “The Joshua Tree.” But as it is, this is still a band that, for just a moment, was able to lock into a perfect pop sensibility and produce a near-masterpiece.
Play It Again: “Lips Like Sugar”
Skip It: “Bedbugs & Ballyhoo” (again, it sucks)
2. Porcupine (1983)
WEA, Echo & the Bunnymen’s label at the time, rejected “Porcupine” as being too uncommercial, and the band themselves described the mood during recording as horrible and strained. Naturally, this produced one of the great bleak post-punk records of all time, a howling maelstrom of shattered pop like “The Back of Love” sitting alongside the trippy layered vocals and depressive poetry of “Higher Hell.” It’s a nervy, nervous album made by a band that was in its first phase of nearly falling apart, and it sounds like it, in the best way. We’re not saying that great music is always made by four white guys upset with each other in a small room, but “Porcupine” makes a pretty good case for it.
Play It Again: “The Back of Love”
Skip It: “My White Devil”
1. Ocean Rain (1984)
For decades now, Ian McCulloch has told the world not just that “Ocean Rain” is Echo & the Bunnymen’s best album but that it’s the fucking best album ever made. The thing is, he might actually have a point. “Ocean Rain” is a perfect synthesis of everything that the band has ever done, from the glorious shimmering strings that open “Silver” to the melancholy, wanderlust fantasy of “Ocean Rain.” This is an album in which “The Killing Moon” has serious competition in mystery and guitar hooks, like the wistful “Seven Seas” or the absurdly catchy “My Kingdom.” It’s an immensely dense album (literally, in that every instrument in the world, from a marimba to a 35-piece orchestra, shows up), but at the same time, as accessible as any pop album of the 1980s. Alright, McCulloch, you made your point.
Play It Again: “Ocean Rain”
Skip It: “The Yo Yo Man”

Samiam later in their career always kind of rode that line between catchy punk and mainstream radio rock and this is the one where that line is crossed. This is a perfectly fine album but it’s also the one that you can almost imagine being played over the loudspeaker at your local supermarket.
After a six-year hiatus, they returned with this album and immediately something seemed off. All the elements are there for the most part but the recording sounds like it was done with a boombox placed in the middle of the practice room. The backlash to this was so bad that they released a remixed version in 2013 to fix the glaring mistakes but even this new version doesn’t really seem to have the goods.
It’s probably unfair to compare a band’s brand-new album to everything they’ve been doing for three previous decades, but then again life isn’t fair. We have to judge this one based solely on the music itself without any rose-colored nostalgia corrupting our judgment. The good news is the verdict is this a really good album with a lot of it sounding like something from their catalog in the late ‘90s.
1990 was a weird year for music. The punk and hardcore bands of the ‘80s had burned themselves out and the Whitesnakes of the world dominated the airwaves. This was the year Samiam released their first full-length and in a way picked up where Hüsker Dü left off even though it may be a little rough in spots.
Maybe it was the fact that nothing happened on Y2K, but by 2000 Samiam seemed to cool their heels a bit and relaxed into a mid-career cruise. Astray is both a little more angsty than its predecessor and also a bit more tame. We spent most of the year 2000 eating through our doomsday rations anyway.
Their second major label release and from a production stance, arguably their best-sounding record. Beebout’s vocals are clean but powerful and you can tell he was really swinging for the fences. This is the soundtrack to a slacker alt road trip to find the best thrift store two states over.
The second album for every band is tricky. While some bands make embarrassing cringe-tastic decisions on their second album (“Let’s add violins!”) Samiam instead solidified their sound and smoothed off just enough of the rough edges from their debut.
Their first major label release and their big breakout which earned them some modest airplay on MTV and even an appearance on the early Jon Stewart Show. The deep pockets of Atlantic Records afforded them better production but luckily they avoided the pitfalls of the overly slick and sanitized sound so many bands seem to fall into once Daddy Music Label opens their wallet.
What a sad fucking album this is but somehow it still makes you feel happy. Well, maybe not happy but possibly less depressed. Is it emo? Shit no. But it’s emotional as fuck. It almost feels like a concept album with the concept being life is shit especially when you’re broke and lonely.
There is no way in hell I’m sharing a vehicle with this man. But I guess if I absolutely have to, this would be my one and only opportunity to push this guy out of a moving car.
The Kiss bassist wouldn’t wear a seatbelt the entire time because, according to him, no one ever did back in his day. This is going to make me wonder how many other basic safety considerations he’s going to forgo on this trip.
The Gorillaz bassist would somehow run over several small animals while driving. It wouldn’t be until the third or fourth time he took out a possum that I’d start to think he was actually intentionally aiming for them. It’s really killing the adventure and wanderlust vibes.
It’ll be six hours into this road trip before Fat Mike informs me that he doesn’t have a driver’s license. Then he’s going to tell me he forgot his wallet. Also his toothbrush, so he’ll have to use mine. Nothing but red flags.
You just know Nikki smells like a combination of hairspray and cigarettes even though I’ve never seen him smoke. The Marlboro aromas are fine, but I draw the line at anything that smells like Axe Body Spray.
Krist is 6’7” so he’s going to be so uncomfortable in my compact car. We’d have to stop every 20 to 30 minutes so he can get out and stretch his legs. Road trips are typically more suitable for short kings.
The Guns N’ Roses bassist has been sober for decades, so I feel like he’s going to judge me when I crack open a few drinks when it’s my turn to drive. I just function better when I’m a few beers deep. Is that so wrong?
The Black Sabbath bassist would complain about gas prices the entire time. Buddy, I know gas was a quarter per gallon in the ‘70s, but that was before the government allowed rampant corporate greed to take over. Get with the program.
The Iron Maiden bassist would throw all of this trash on the floor even though I have a plastic bag for this exact purpose. At least he separates it beforehand. Recycling goes in the passenger side, general garbage in the back, and food scraps go out the window.
White Zombie’s bassist would want to bring her pet snake with her and it’d ride in the backseat. I’m going to be staring at that thing in the rearview mirror the entire time. She’s the reason I’d have to institute a stern “no reptiles” rule on future road trips.
The MxPx bassist would Instagram the entire trip, as if anyone cares we just hit Indiana. He’d even post reels like a total dork. I wouldn’t mind it so much, but he keeps using the hashtag #vanlife and it’s bothering me because we’re in a sedan.
The Korn bassist would be a fine companion on the road to a certain extent, but he’d only consume Red Bulls, Mountain Dew, and Five-Hour Energy the entire way. I’d never see him drink water and I’d start to get worried.
The Strokes bassist would prefer to sit in silence the entire time because he’s “not much of a music fan.” Just what am I supposed to pay attention to while driving?
Les famously took bass to a whole new level. Unfortunately, he’s going to keep bringing that up the entire car ride. I’d have to pretend like I have to take a dump at every single rest stop just to get a break from him.
The Adverts bassist may be iconic in the punk world, but she’d want to hit every roadside attraction in the US. It doesn’t matter that the world’s largest ball of twine is three hours out of our way or the giant statue of Paul Bunyan’s ox is on the other side of the country, Gaye’s bucket list is somehow the priority.
The Clash bassist is extremely British. That means he drives on the opposite side of the road. I generally don’t have a problem with that, but US traffic cops might. Seems like more trouble than it’s worth.
The Talking Heads bassist would pack several charcuterie boards full of cured meats, pâtés, and spreads. That’s fine and all, but she wouldn’t leave any room on the board for Funyuns, which is my go-to road trip snack.
90 minutes into the excursion, the Minutemen bassist is going to ask “Are we there yet?” even though I told him beforehand that this was a cross country trip. Starting to think he’s never seen a map before. That must be why he didn’t seem to quite understand the concept of Wyoming.
Jerry has a whole list of attractions he wants to see along the way, but they’re all Spirit Halloween stores. Jerry, I assure you that the Spirit Halloween in Nebraska has the same stuff as the one in New Jersey.