Author: Jeremy Hinks

Last night at The Union in Salt Lake City, I stood among a room full of people who have ridden this same strange, beautiful train for decades. Some were seeing the Bunnymen for the first time. Others, like me, have been aboard since the very beginning. And when the lights came up and that unmistakable swirl of guitar and bass filled the room, something deep inside clicked into place again. Not because it was the greatest show they’ve ever played — it wasn’t — but because it didn’t need to be. It was simply *them*, still here, still doing it. And for those of us who’ve carried their music through our entire adult lives, that was more than enough .I am not a casual fan. Echo & The Bunnymen were the first concert I ever saw — September 1987 at Park West with New Order and Gene Loves Jezebel. That night rewired my teenage brain. I stepped out of that venue a different person. I got on their train and never got off. I devoured every interview, every bootleg, every word. In 1989 I read the early books on the band and was absolutely devastated when Pete de Freitas died. I thought that was the end. Then in April 1990, at sixteen years old, I somehow got backstage at an Ian McCulloch solo show. I told him — this charming, impossibly cool Liverpool man — how his lyrics had given voice to things I couldn’t even explain to myself yet. He didn’t brush me off. He listened. He talked with me like I mattered. That conversation meant the universe to a lost kid from Utah. I was on my mission when *Electrafiction* came out and couldn’t connect with it. But in 1998 I was in Paris for *Evergreen* and somehow ended up spending three ridiculous, perfect hours backstage goofing off with Les and Will, and the keyboard player Henry Priestman (who I am still in contact with). They were absolute champs — funny, warm, human. I ended up on the guest list for the rest of that run through France, Belgium, and Holland. I rode the train from Paris to Brussels with Mac himself and somehow earned a nickname in the process. Those were pure coming-of-age moments I’ll carry forever. Years later I worked with a small media company filming a live DVD. I had a laminate and lost count of how many shows I saw — starting in Boston, cutting across the Midwest, then picking them up again on runs with the Psychedelic Furs. I have stories that still make me laugh: driving them to Walmart, to Guitar Center, just shooting the shit in my car like they weren’t legends. I’ve shot dozens of their shows over the decades — some transcendent, some rough around the edges. But even on the off nights, it never felt like a waste. Because these men were *there* for us when we needed them most. That’s the quiet truth a lot of us felt walking out of The Union last night. The band sticks mostly to the classics now, which is understandable but still a shame. *Siberia* and *Meteorites* are genuinely great records with songs that deserve to be heard live. I even interviewed Noel Burke once — the singer on *Reverberation* — and came away respecting how hard it is to step into those shoes. But here’s the deeper thing: last night wasn’t about technical perfection or deep cuts. Mac’s voice has its limits these days. The set was heavy on the hits. And yet… it was special. Cathartic. Philosophical, even. Because when you’ve followed a band for nearly forty years — through death, breakups, reunions, good albums, weird albums, and everything in between — the concert stops being just a concert. It becomes a reunion. A ritual. A living proof that the things that saved you as a kid are still out there, still breathing, still connecting .A lot of people online have been debating whether it was “worth going.” Whether the show was as good as the ones in the ’80s or ’90s. I get it. But for those of us who know the full story, the question isn’t really about vocal range or setlist depth anymore. It’s about presence. About showing up one more time. About standing in a room with strangers who understand exactly why these songs still matter. We didn’t need a flawless gig. We needed *them*. And they delivered something better than perfection: continuity. Gratitude. A reminder that the train keeps rolling, even when we’re all older, a little more broken, and a lot more aware of how rare this kind of connection actually is.So yes — it was worth it. Every single time. Last night included. Thank you, lads. For 1987. For 1990. For Paris and Brussels, New York, Boston, Amsterdam, and all the miles in between. For every time your music said the things I couldn’t. And for still being here in Salt Lake City in 2026, giving one more imperfect, absolutely perfect night to people who never stopped believing. The train rolls on. And I’m still on it.

_{*Disclaimer, I am writing this piece about Morrissey’s music, not him as a person, or any of his recent statements.}

I first heard Morrissey as a vocalist when someone handed me a cassette of *Meat Is Murder*, the legendary Smiths album with the song most of the world remembers them by.

We all know the story: the breakup, Morrissey going solo. That’s where we pick up here.

Morrissey’s next opus drops March 6, 2026. I was supposed to see him in Salt Lake a few months back, but he canceled due to a severe ear infection in both ears. I figured I’d hear some of these tracks that night, but hey—I got them now, and I have to tell you, this album is some of his finest work.

Back in ’98, I met The Smiths producer Grant Showbiz when he was working with Billy Bragg. Grant’s done amazing stuff over the years, and honestly, I thought Morrissey would have to land someone that good on his records. For the last several albums they have been produced by Joe Chiccarelli (the guy who’s worked with everyone from Frank Zappa to Alanis Morissette), and for whatever reason, the production really stands out—it’s elevated the whole thing above so much of his other solo output.

Starting with the album cover art: it looks like he’s caught by surprise, something rushing toward him backstage at a festival. Okay then.

Listening to his 14th solo album—the first since 2020 (though that year he did a one-off single with disco diva Thelma Houston, of whom he’s a big fan. She told me in an interview it was fun to do together, and he was incredibly respectful and professional. I think he went all starry-eyed working with her. Hell, I got star-struck just interviewing her).

“Your Right It’s Time” kicks off with bass and guitar that make me think Fleetwood Mac, then lead guitars sounding a bit like Interpol. The lyrics take over, calling out how people waste time on screens instead of finding real love. He even pops in lines about “shoot the breeze with trees.” I get it—he’s never owned a cellphone. His vocals here give off a surprisingly happy vibe, and for some reason it puts me right in a James Bond movie opening sequence.

“Lester Bangs” is another social commentary on rock & roll history—pointing out how he was glued to the pages Bangs wrote on the other side of the world, and how much it meant to read his takes on Roxy Music or the Dolls when Morrissey’s own life was going wrong as a youth. I just finished “The Uncool” by Cameron Crowe (who was mentored by Bangs), so my own understanding of the guy lines up—apparently Morrissey had something to say about him too.

There’s a song that starts with psychedelic sitar-sounding guitar and a killer bassline: “Zoom Zoom The Little Boy.” Some lyrics:

“Zoom Zoom the little boy

he only thinks about joy

he wants to save every animal

from the arrogant human”

If you know anything about Morrissey, you know where this one’s going—mentioning frogs and hedgehogs.

“Boulevard” lyrically is classic Morrissey lines like “I cling to you, like others cling to lovers,” leaning into his lifelong loneliness theme. But musically? Great acoustic guitar with an almost country feel. The lyrics juxtapose a Western film saloon with an icy bathroom, telling a story around alcohol abuse on “the Boulevard.” It’s dark, somber, operatic even—true to his feelings, but sounding unlike so much of his other work. Be ready for this one; it really pulls you in.

I never thought I’d hear Morrissey do a late-’70s almost-disco vibe. Well, it happens on “The Night Pop Dropped.” Great Hammond organ, KC and the Sunshine Band backdrop. I found myself grooving and swaying in my desk chair the first time I heard it—chimes like Blondie’s “Rapture,” some early Shriekback vibes. “Remembering the night pop dropped, the bar ran dry and the dancers stopped.” You’ll probably get your groove on to this one, though it sounds NOTHING like what you’d expect from him.

Without giving it all away, so many great songs here. But I do feel it’s my duty to say something about “The Monsters of Pig Alley.”

The song tells a story of someone chasing fame, eventually getting it, with the family asking if it was worth it—please come home. The video is harsh: a young man (close enough to James Dean) leaves his almost-Amish father and grieving Russian mother to audition for films, to be “big and famous.” He goes through rounds, lands a part, ends up on TV shows with a young woman straight out of the early ’60s. Like James Dean, it ends badly. The video is beautiful and sad—classic Morrissey genius at pulling heartstrings to show real human emotions and stories.

I’ve been entertained by Morrissey for going on 40 years, and *Make-Up Is a Lie* is hands down, for me, his finest work yet.

The album “Make-Up Is a Lie” comes out this week, March 6, 2026. Love him or hate him, you’ll probably listen—and you’ll probably experience it exactly the way Morrissey wants you to.

Do I need to post his socials here? NO, I think you all know where to find this guy and his work.

Having missed Peter Murphy on his Love Hysteria tour in 1988, only knowing one song, “Indigo Eyes” I heard from everyone there that it was a life changing event. He had opened for The Church, with Tom Verlaine (Of the legendary band “Television”) opening the night. I know I missed out on something magnificent that night, only learning about all of it for years as friends who went continue to talk about that gig, even now.

I got the tape “Love Hysteria” and I couldn’t believe how incredible this album was. Great guitar, wooded hollow guitars, great rhythmic basslines, and almost jazz style drumming. Peter Murphy’s vocals on that album were so rich, powerful, and haunting.

In the fall of 1989 Peter Murphy released his 3rd solo album “Deep” where he was sporting the “Thin White Duke” image on the cover, and a couple great singles “Cuts You up” and “Strange Kind Of Love”, enough to hook you onto the album, but in its entirety, this album was something very deep, meaningful, and almost religious. If you saw this tour, I hope it makes you feel like you were there again, if you missed this tour, I hope you read this and say you wish you were there.

ARTIST: Peter Murphy

DATE: 14 March 1990

VENUE: Kingsbury Hall

CITY: Salt Lake City, UT

SUPPORTING: NAUVOO (Last minute)

The entire Salt Lake Valley New Wave / Goth fanbase was there, in this marvelous hall, built for operas. There was mostly BLACK in the audience. I had scored 2nd row seats, and so my girlfriend and I were up close. My buddy Kaycee, or William (Not sure what his real name is and I have known him since 89) saw me and started waving at me, he is 6’4” and weighs about 80lbs. He was in a lace skirt, and a very colorful gypsy jacket, I didn’t recognize him at first, till he got closer. We chatted a bit and just hung out, everyone talking like it was one big club, in Salt Lake City, everyone knows everyone in the RITZ/Palladium scene. I had my setlist in mind, and was hoping for some heavy “Love Hysteria” material, and I knew there was gonna be some Bauhaus in the mix. I was still finding my way through Bauhaus, as I had been swallowed up into Love and Rockets, just a few months after I got into Peter Murphy, but Bauhaus was too heavy and dark at times.

NAUVOO

Bill Allred from KJQ came out and made a few announcements, up coming gigs etc. Then he said that Nine Inch Nails had canceled because they got snowed in and their bus wouldn’t make it to SLC in time. I had NO Idea that NIN was on the bill, and was okay with that, I really didn’t like them at this point. So he said “We have a local band tonight, they are called “Nauvoo” (Named after the old Mormon City), so welcome them to the stage”.

Nauvoo, well, I recognized the bassist, he was from the local thrash metal band “Slaugherchrist” whom we had seen at some Speedway Cafe gigs (*Speedway Cafe was a local punk venue). The venue was darkened, with just a few lights on the band. Long and short, they were a bad mix of “SWANS” meets Dead Can Dance. I never thought I could hear a 12 string guitar, and think it sounded bad. Well, this time yeah, it did. They sang long dragged out songs like “THIS IS YOUR GOD !!!!! BOW DOWN!!!! BOW DOWN!!! BOW DOWN!!!” for several measures. I mean, this was straight off the “Children of GOD” album I guess, it was just kind of miserable. They dragged through a set that most of us wished we hadn’t. The female vocalist got up there and tried to sound like Lisa Gerrard, and that seemed to drag. Maybe they hadn’t practiced enough, or just weren’t ready for this one. I did see their names on other gig rosters for a while, but never saw them live again. Though yeah, a couple Slaughterchrist gigs were in my future.

PETER MURPHY

The stage was being switched out, and I saw this amazing setup, the drummer Terl Bryant had a set of c-wrenches tied with fishing wire to a board, to make chimes, a gorgeous frettless bass was on a stand, and a hollow acoustic guitar with a few other instruments out there. The theme for The Last Temptation of Christ began to play “The Feeling Begins”, and I have known this song since I got the soundtrack the year before, though I never saw the movie till 2001. The house lights went down slowly so we didn’t really notice it, until the last minute of the Peter Gabriel was playing, and the band came out and started playing along, on drums first, so there was the heavy drumming, then the live drumming on top, then guitars and bass right on top as well, then the last 4 measures a spotlight popped on in the back, and there was Peter Murphy, with his head between his knees, hand holding the mic up in the air, while he posed just like he did on the album cover.

Once that light was on, the crowd went insane, and he rose up, looked at the audience then jumped the little platform and the band went into “The Line Between The Devil’s Teeth (And That Which Cannot Be Repeat)”. He was kicking really high to the beats across the stage until it was time for him to sing “A white line, blazing deep, through the wasteland searching we” and it all went mad from there. That song had everyone on their toes as he gave us this song, very tight, and I understood already what everyone meant when they talked about the previous tour, this was going to be one hell of a great night.

While he was welcoming everyone to the show, the drums for “Deep Ocean Vast Sea” were playing, and he tore into that one, with his haunting powerful baritone voice. The lyrics are about power and it’s reaches, and who gets it, or refuses to submit.

Then the drums and percussion began for “Seven Veils” and this fretless bass was the instrument for that song. Peter Murphy would walk up to the light trees on either side of the stage and dance in front of them, you could see his face illuminate or not, depending on where he was. A true showman that Peter Murphy is. With everyone on stage, and in the audience singing the “AHHHOOOOEEHHAA” along with him, feeling like we were all part of the same experience.

After the applause, Terl gave us three taps on the drumsticks then the whole band came in, while Eddy Branch laid out the low cello lines from “Cut’s You UP” on his frettless, the entire venue screamed as this was one of the hits everyone was sure to know. “I find you in the morning, casting dreams of distant signs” and I remember dancing so hard holding my girlfriend’s hand, and just feeling this energy, the movement, the lights, and the vibe, the SPIRIT of this song. “Hold the secret close, I hear you say”, for some reason those lyrics were so spiritual at the time, and I was FEELING the meaning of them, even if I didn’t understand any of it as a 16 year old kid. When it finished we all kind of took a breather.

Next came “I’ve Got A Miniature Secret Camera”, that was a B-side of another single, and for a while was one of his fave songs to play live, I mean I heard it every show for years.

Then came the unmistakable bassline, a jumpy like reggae familiar sounding line but on 8ths, so kind of like reggae gone FAST. It was “Kick In The Eye” a Bauhaus song, that all the goths were there to hear. I have to say, I knew the song, but the way he did it live was fantastic (Also cause I heard a lot of Bauhaus bootlegs by then, and they must have been crap recordings, cause this was great).

Then Peter Murphy walked off the stage, for a minute, and returned wearing a red jacket with so many colors woven into it, and tassels everywhere. He was ALSO holding a gorgeous 12 string guitar, I saw that, and said to myself “Okay, I can die Now”. A bunch of people fired up their lighters, then Peter Murphy said “Oh, that’s alright you don’t need to light up now, we’re not all part of the Rock & Roll circus yet”. Then after a few measures on the gorgeous 12 string, he sang just deep and low enough to melt everything in the room “My mother loved it so she said, sad eyed pearled and drop lips”, it was the ballad “Marlene Dietrich’s Favorite Poem”, the song of that name, not the real favorite poem of Marlene Dietrich’s. This was such a romantic and sad song that everyone had their lighters out, I held my girlfriend from behind so tightly, this was just one of those coming of age moments, all captured in a song.

With everyone on the emotional high from “Marlene” petering out, and a sigh, the drums started to pound out like the drummers of Barundi, and Peter introduced the rest of his band as “The Hundred Men”, with Paul Statham on keyboards, Terl Bryant on drums, Peter Bonas on guitar, Eddy Branch on bass. Then he continued as each member built up into “ROLL CALL”. I swear we are only 8 songs in and he has elevated the entire hall to new heights with his stage presence. This seemed to go a bit long for the duration but it was great, just hard to go so intense for that long.

“His Circle and Hers Meet”, was finally into Love Hysteria territory, a song about not so much sex, but where two peoples entire souls come together.

Then he played the opening for “Final Solution” a Peru Ubu cover, only his version is so much more intense “ Don’t need a cure, don’t need a cure”, and when he sang “Mamma threw me out til I get some pants that fit”, he shook his ass at the audience for the laughs, and cheers. After the 2nd chorus, while the drums kept playing the same beat, the guitars and bass all shifted, and he sang “Whit on white translucent black capes, back on the rack” everyone screamed because everyone knew the next line was “Bela Lugosi’s dead”. He sang a bit of Bella, “Bela Lugosi’s dead- Don’t need a cure” then a hard hit on the base drums and snare, back and forth, then he finished this mash up with the band playing “Final Solution”, while he sang Bela to the end. It was really cool, and he hasn’t done it like that since.

Then the lights dimmed to looking like candles on the stage, and Terryl ran his drumsticks across the crescent wrenches, giving us a “Chime” a few times, while Peter picked up his 12 string again, strums a few times, while Peter Bonas took the lead with his acoustic. It the lighting made it feel like the sun was setting, while we all slowly flowed into the epic lovesong “Strange Kind Of Love”, and it just sounded amazing. I pulled my girlfriend closer and we just melted in the majestic sounds of love that this song made both of us feel. Swaying side to side together, I felt like this was one of those moments you fall in love to. We all sang, eyes closed, many of us out of tune, it didn’t matter this was one of the best love songs ever written. 

Peter then came down for a minute and waved at individual people, saying “hello”, while the band switched out instruments. I heard the chimes again, and the keyboards playing these wooded sounding drums, and the guitar queued up some pre very intense sounding chords. And with Peter simply singing in his perfect baritone voice he sang “When the nights are falling, eyes are running wild, and I hear you humming, all night long. The signs I see, tell me about you, all I need from you is….. ALL I SEE”. The drums sounded like tympanies the bass line kicked in and everyone took us through the story of “ All Night Long” the whole time Peters’ voice was powering through, we all felt like we were somewhere in North Africa on some dangerous trek, that was going to be worth whatever it was to go through it for what was waiting at the end. AND, hearing it live the first time, I realized that the softly spoken monologue during the bridge was in French. I was surprised and stoked, as on the tape, it never was loud or clear enough to decipher. It closed perfectly, like the end of “Raiders of The Lost Ark” when everything swept across the canyon and went back into the ark as it closed and sealed right behind everything. Yeah, it was that AWESOME. 

He said “Thank you, good night”, and walked off stage for a minute, and there were plenty of cheers, he came back to the stage, still wearing his red jacket, but no shirt. All shirtless got more cheers, he pulled the jacket off his shoulders, and got a lot of screams from the ladies in the venue. 

He then played “The Light Pours Out of Me” one that I had only heard a couple times, during my speed through “Should The World Fail”, it was okay, not my fave, it wasn’t till years later I learned it was a Magazine cover. 

With all the cheers still going he said “Look at them now”, but I hadn’t heard any music in the background, okay FALSE START…. Then the band chimed in with the opening chords for “Dragnet Drag”, and he sang again “Look at them Now, Look at them do” and I was thrilled to have this energetic guitar piece blasting through all of us, feeling it from the floor up to the top of my head. “Dragnet Drag” from “Love Hysteria” was so tight, as if it was being played from the CD itself, when he sang 

“Four guides afloat, Four dots of God, 

Look they found the dove

Their triad song too”

I was counting out the numbers on my hand as I held it in the air, imagining it was important, or that he could even see me doing it. When he sang the final lines, and hummed out the chorus along with the keyboard, he ran down to the barricade and slapped everyone’s hand that was at the front. Then he went back to the middle of the stage, gave a great bow, said “Good Night” one more time, and left. 

It was a short show, 16 songs, I hoped for “Indigo Eyes” but honestly, it was such a great performance, I couldn’t complain about anything that evening. It had started to blizzard that night, that it took 3 hours to get home safely. I was high for days. It was all worth it.