Photo from Gibson TV on YouTube
By William Newlin
Bush released six studio albums between their six-times platinum classic “Sixteen Stone” (1994) and their newest offering, “The Kingdom,” released on July 17. In a July 18 live show performed in Los Angeles and streamed on the band’s website, Bush frontmant Gavin Rossdale reminded us he hasn’t lost a hard-rocking step in the past two and a half decades. To drive home the point, Rossdale and his backing crew since 2010 split the setlist evenly between Bush’s top hits from ’94 and their heavier, more polished tunes of today. While the performance featured all the revelry absent from life in the past six and a half months, the Internet rather than human connection put a rift between what you feel and what Bush wanted you to feel.
Instead of using the impersonal media of streaming for a toned-down show in the vein of an Alice in Chains or Nirvana “MTV Unplugged” session, Bush played to an imagined arena of thousands. It made sense – they weren’t going to cut the cord to their distortion pedals when promoting a new album – but it felt like watching your neighbor’s rave from your bedroom window. That’s the rub for any COVID-era concert, I suppose, yet the disconnect feels more pronounced when Rossdale is jumping around amid a festival-worthy light show and dropping to his knees for a soulful stare into the heavens (or more likely, the ceiling).
Rossdale described concerts as an unnecessary public health risk in an April 3 interview with Spin. He said he hadn’t thought about the band’s misfortunes during the pandemic at all – he was just grateful for the perseverance of everyday people and the ironic unity created in its wake.
Watching the performance, you could Bush cared about their isolated fans. The show was a commendable production, especially considering it was free to stream, and they had no real obligation to pull out the stops. Yet all the live elements were there. The vocals had the extra grit and breathlessness absent from recordings, and the drums were hollower and more resonant than their studio sound. But at no time did your mind trick you into thinking you were at a typical Bush concert. A big issue was the forced perspective.
At a show, you’re not darting your eyes back and forth at each band member throughout each song. Maybe the drummer is laying down some intricate licks or the guitarist’s fingers are a mesmerizing blur – either way, certain moments will draw and hold your attention. Tuning into a livestream, that agency is gone. Bush’s cameraperson must’ve had a closeup quota for each band member given the way the frame jumped so quickly between Rossdale, guitarist Chris Traynor, bassist Corey Britz and drummer Nik Hughes. A few seconds on Traynor when he busts out a weeping solo isn’t enough. But what can you do? The movement made the viewing more dynamic, but longer static shots would’ve allowed more personalized viewing.
The new songs themselves were well-introduced. Described in Rossdale’s Spin interview as “thick and wide like molasses,” “The Kingdom” doesn’t stray far from Bush’s longstanding sound. A benefit of a combined past-and-present show is that you can directly compare “Everything Zen” (from “Sixteen Stone”), with its hypnotic alt-rock guitar sounds and “Flowers On A Grave” (from “The Kingdom”), which brings a more robust stadium-rock feel. Rossdale’s dark but soul-searching vocals haven’t changed much, and it’s clear Bush still enjoys exploding out of a spoken word verse into a sing-along chorus. But they seem fiercer. The snarl-inducing bassline of “Bullet Holes” conjures up the twangy funk metal of Primus, and the heavy riffs and off-kilter beat of “Blood River” will touch the heart of any Rage Against the Machine aficionado.
Bush delivered a well-meaning fan love letter via their livestream. The Kingdom arrived with force, and while concert enthusiasts received a heartfelt approximation of a head-banging rock show, it didn’t hit the same from the couch. The band exemplified the paradox of rock and roll during a pandemic – the harder they go virtually, the more you miss the real “I can feel the bass drum interrupt my heart rhythm” thing.
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