Rock Sound Magazine, May 2000
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Article | Sacha | Concert Review
SCIENTIFIC BREAKTHROUGH
You, the discerning readers, voted them 'Best British Band' in our definitive end of year poll. On the eve of the release of new single 'Letting the Cables Sleep', rock sound cornered home-grown heroes Bush, allowing them to vent their spleens on the state of contemporary music, Hollywood film roles, how they envisage their next album and whether or not they're deserting planet rock for the backwoods of rave land. But remember, say 'grunge' and you DIE...
Words: Rosanna Slater/Photo: Phil Mazzoni
Curse or coincidence? Farce or fluke? Last time
we caught up with Bush, guitarist Nigel Pulsford, through no fault of his
own, was nowhere to be seen. Today, the day after their rescheduled Norwich
UEA date, he is absent yet again. We won't take it personally and urge the
man to take out substantial life insurance, should this here publication
dare to approach the band for that potentially fatal hat-trick rendezvous.
"We think he might have broken his foot," deplores Gavin Rossdale, singer
and aesthetically appealing frontman on the previous night's mishap. "We
had a bit of a crowd invasion on stage and Nigel stumbled. He landed on someone's
shoe that was on the stage and buggered his ankle," continues drummer Robin
Goodridge. "He leapt off the top of his amp, didn't he?" quizzes bassist
Dave Parsons, still unaware of the actual misadventure. "Well..." explains
Gavin, "It was a dramatic leap but it was well worth it!" Indeed, the most
rock'n'roll impairment since old boy Keith Richards toppled off his library
ladder... However, new Bush recruit Sacha Puttnam scoots around
dynamically.
Bush's recent sellout UK tour has once again dispelled the unenlightened
critics' hackneyed assertions that Bush are the biggest British band in the
universal macrocosm that no bugger this side of the equator has heard of.
Their first two albums, having collectively sold 15 million copies, meant
that the pressure to propagate an auspicious successor was a feat in itself.
Not least that in their three-year hiatus, dawned an era where the kids now
demand hard rock/hip-hop in one marketable package. Try playing to a fastidious
flock of urchins with just a bunch of guitars... Don't be daft. That's just
soooo last century. "Well, I was in blissful ignorance because I wrote the
record in Ireland, in isolation and didn't really know what was going on,"
begins Gavin. "I wasn't listening to anyone else anyway. It was only when
we first went back to America did we check out what was going on." Gavin,
a man who not so long ago claimed 'music has become so boring and predictable'
had a lot to prove, not least to himself. "Boring and predictable? That depends
whether you mean rock music or music in general, because if you look at music
of the year at the moment, it's fucking dreadful. It's nothing to do with
music as far as I'm concerned," he says trenchantly. "It's all to do with
formula and white dance outfits and it's in a pretty grim state. If you're
not in a pop group, you've gotta be in a folk band these days to be successful,
so it's really weird. I think that we're always trying to do rock music in
a sexy, emotional interesting way and I think that the scope is always there
to be good." So Billy Corgan was inaccurate with his little 'Rock is Dead'
conjecture? "Listen to his new album... The reason rock music will always
live, is because it's the best music to hear live. Like Massive Attack who
are probably one of my favourite bands of all-time, who I think are seminal
and genius and I can't say enough good things about them - live, it's not
the best thing to watch, whereas rock music is another story."
Here's the Science...
Some regard third album "The Science of Things" a deviation from the archetypal
Bush, as seen on the multi-platinum 'Sixteen Stone' and 'Razorblade Suitcase'.
Having proven so triumphant, why weren't they content with making another
straightforward rock epic? "Because it would be repeating the process...,"
Gavin states matter-of-factly. "We've just tried to move on. Stretching ourselves
and stretching our interests and becoming more textured..." With that his
mobile rings, a polite blush ensues and he temporarily leaves the room, giving
the other members a rare opportunity to get an oar in. "Look at The Clash,
David Bowie or Elvis Costello. Lots of their albums vary in steam or theme,"
rationalises Dave, on their new-found experimentalism. "We have a choice
of three distinguishable albums to play live, without them all being
interchangeable..." But still not running the risk of alienating the die-hard
fans with a slightly new direction? "We haven't changed direction," altercates
Robin causticly. "The next album's gonna be a lot rockier. Fast and furious..."
Dave agrees. "I think people have got a bit carried away if they think we've
made a really electronic sounding album, I mean all we've done is incorporated
more strings and electronic-oriented ideas but we haven't turned into a rave
band or anything! And seeing us live proves that they're still rock songs,
just with a different sound..." 'The Science of Things', rimming rock with
a cool electronic edge, could ignorantly be regarded as a premeditated effort
to escape that odious 'faux grunge' tag that perpetually bedevils them. "We
have moved on. People harp on about it because they've got no fucking
imagination. If a journalist wants to use the 'g' word..." Er, don't shoot
the messenger! "...then they have such a fucking chronic lack of imagination.
It's their problem, not ours. I mean the first record wasn't a grunge record...
maybe there were a few songs that you could accuse of being the case. It's
just guitar rock. Alternative guitar rock... It always has been." Dave explains
in a more composed manner: "You don't make records for critics, you make
them for yourself, so whatever tag they wanna give you... there's nothing
you can do to stop them... Apart from put a fucking parental guidance sticker
on the front that says that this is not a fucking grunge
album..."
Rumour Mongering
Word has it that after the critical acclaim of '97s 'Deconstructed' remix
album, Gavin was intent on taking a radical drum 'n' bass direction. He re-enters
the room, giggling profusely, having overheard the revelation. "Well," laughs
Robin, "...had that been the case it would have definitely been a solo album!"
Hearing such baloney comes with the territory, it would appear. "I read a
great 'rumour', well, it wasn't a rumour, it was an almighty fuck-up, in
a paper on Sunday which said that Oasis are the most successful English band
in the States," despairs Robin. "It said at the end like a footnote that
there's this band called Bush who moved to America and therefore are now
regarded as Americans. That's the most recent and irksome..." That's just
for starters: "I think the one that we've turned into a banging garage band
is quite a good one," laughs Gavin, "...and that we're spies for the
government..." Allegations that, Dave, former member of '80s trash troopers
Transvision Vamp, had scuppered Wendy James' plans of a reunion tour and
that she wants his head on a stick and his goolies in a pickle jar, are also
unfounded. After the laughing subsides, inquisition to an internet rumour
that Gavin's been offered a Hollywood film role are met with contemplative
silence. "I have a Hollywood cheese roll," he deadpans derisively. "But just
when you bite into it, there's nothing there...," he analogises. "Sure it's
not a ham roll?" queries Dave. "Definitely not a ham roll...," confirms
Gavin. "No pigs for me..."
Crossing Over
As we speak, Bush shall be embarking on an extensive 'Campus Invasion' tour
of America. With Moby... "It was our idea," Gavin explains. "We were asked
who we wanted to take out on the road and we chose Moby. He seemed like a
great idea. He's a friend of ours. He's talented, interesting... We always
like going on tour with cool people," continues Gavin. "We don't see it as
an ego divide..." Some may wonder if the blazing rock of Bush and the ambient
outlandishness of Moby are the most compatible of combinations. "I think
it crosses over, for sure...," Gavin justifies. "...I think we're both
particularly emotional outfits, we deal in the human condition and how people
feel about things. I'm sure there are divides where we don't share the same
audience, but that's part of the fun of doing it. We won't just be preaching
to the already converted."
As even your Great Auntie Gertrude will know, America was converted many
moons ago. So now it's only the arbitrators, especially on home soil, having
ceaselessly belittled them that need convincing. After all, having made the
19th best-selling British album of the 1990s, being the first British band
to headline Woodstock as well as breaking airplay records on Stateside radio
should count for something. "Now it's much better. All the crap that was
around, when we first started seems to have fallen by the wayside...," reflects
Robin on whether they've finally acquired the respect they thoroughly deserve.
"We're getting it, inch by inch." Gavin, having taken it to heart more than
the others, is also positive. "We have to accept that we're in that league
where if you're successful, then there are always going to be people who
don't like you, just as there are a lot of people who do like you." Being
one of the UK's most successful exports, surely some recognition is owed.
Take the Brits, for example. The Spice Girls were bestowed with an 'Outstanding
Contribution to British Music' accolade whilst Steps scooped a gong for selling
out a handful of arenas up and down the Isle. "We don't want to be associated
with either one of those!" hollers Robin. "Neither do I, but I get the point..."
retorts Gavin. "We like being on the outside. Really, it is the most sickly
establishment, bullshit pile of crap ever. Personally I've got nothing against
the Spice Girls, because I think they've served a purpose and against all
those terrible drossy bands, at least they've got some spunk and the charisma
to intimidate everyone they come across. I respect them for that and I think
they're quite punky in their popness. We've done a TOTP with them and they
just terrified all the men which is wicked in such a male dominated industry,
most men in this industry are such sexist twats and full off self importance
- so it's great when they're ground to a halt, by like say, Scary Spice..."
Robin and Dave look worried. "But outstanding contribution to music?" Gavin
says, salvaging his credibility. "That's a fucking joke. I think we're long
overdue for some recognition - but not in the company of fucking Steps."
Dave speaks for them all: "Wasn't it Groucho Marx who said 'I only want to
join the clubs that don't want me as a member'? But in this case..." It is,
it transpires, no great loss. "An award is great if you win one, if you don't
then you can go and moan about it," Gavin shrugs. "Winning things like fans
readers polls is much more important," he says safe in the knowledge that
the band have earned a 'Best British Band' honour from the Rock Sound
readers. "Ace!" he says, genuinely delighted. "Thank you to every one who
voted!" beams Robin in a rare moment of heartfelt sincerity. "We've always
had such great audiences," smiles Gavin. "I don't know if there's another
rock band who does better than us. I mean, Oasis are not a rock band - they're
a pop band." Visions of Robbie Williams side-stepping in the boxing ring
to make room for Gavin in the blue corner are aroused.
Hunky-Dory
Gavin, unvoluntary leader of Hunk Rock and recent press fodder victim, still
wishes his music took complete precedence over his sex-God status, but doesn't
let it get the better of him. "It's just part of the whole trip," he indiffers
modestly. "I think it's the whole weird cult of celebrity in this country.
Like a TV chef gets just as much attention as a girl who gets her buttocks
out for the cover of FHM. So it's all gone mad. And we fall victim to it
because of the private life I have... We just don't court that, so it doesn't
really go anywhere. I don't comment on it, I don't talk about it and I don't
see it as trophyism - I just see it as a by-product of what we do. Until
we get our butts out for the cover of a magazine, which I doubt very much
we'll be asked to do..." We ask, in fact, we beg, but he strangely doesn't
comply, on the grounds that it "might upset the photographer". "Look at James
Major!" pipes Robin. "He's on the cover of Hello! magazine for having a formerly
famous father and for knobbing Emma Noble..." They laugh heartily. "Yeah,
Debbie McGee," jests Gavin. "What was it that first attracted you to the
millionaire Paul Daniels? Hahahahaha!" They can afford to laugh. Bush are,
whether it is admitted or not, in a position that every band would like to
be. Having 'made it' across the pond themselves, which of their British
contemporaries, have the propensity of cracking the U.S. of A? "Travis don't
have a snowball's chance in hell," Robin predicts. "If it were the '60s..."
he laughs smugly. "Yeah, folk music was really big in the 60s..." concurs
Gavin. "They're un-pigeonholeable. We hate journalistic pigeonholes, but
in America they have radio pigeonholes and you have to fit," Robin rationalises.
"We're in the alternative rock bracket. They say (in comical American brogue)
'hey they're a rock band, they don't sound like fucking Motley Crue, therefore
they're an alternative rock band'." Gavin graciously reveals the system that
have acquired them Stateside stardom, unparallel to any other British rockband
of this generation. "To crack America, it's effort and if people want it
bad enough, they can do it," he says simplistically. "In America, the psychology
is, you work a day job and you go and play in a band. You play hard and you
play well, cos that's the American dream. The English dream is you think
you look good in the bedroom mirror, so you practise the guitar, you leave
school and go straight on the dole, cos we've all gotta pay taxes to look
after you, because you're so important because you're in the best band in
the world. Then, because you've get a few songs together, you're definitely
the best band in the world and the world is going to come to you. And a few
bands do get a few write-ups in the papers and the world does come to them,
after seven minutes, in England. Then, they play a few shows up and down
the country and a festival, then they go to America play three shows, one
in Chicago, one in LA and one in New York and they go home and wonder why
they haven't made it. In England, bands think they're owed it because they're
so fucking good and in America, people are prepared to work at
it..."
Food For Thought
"This food is absolutely disgusting," groans Dave, picking at an accriminating
bowl of pasta. "I thought I saw someone cutting up some fuckin' saw dust
earlier," adds Robin, spitting out an offending mouthful. So, in conclusion,
tell us something that the world doesn't know about Bush. "What the world
doesn't know about us, we treasure...!" Gavin laughs. OK, what's the greatest
lesson, in all their worldly wisdom, that Bush have learnt. "Look after yourself
and take vitamins," quips Robin. "Ah for fucks sake, Rob...," Gavin scorns,
as they head off to the photo shoot. In a rush to make it to Manchester,
for the final date of their UK tour, Robin suggests having the pictures taken
against a blank wall "so you can scan in some wilderbeasts or something,
later on." They guffaw at the prospect of "on Safari, with Bush, in the...
bush." Well, it's only a matter of time... then the laughing stops. "Don't
worry," says Gavin, pouting stoically for the lens, "We're always smiling
on the inside..."
And then there were
five...
Introducing Bush's new boy - Sacha Puttnam
"As soon as Gavin and I met, we formed Midnight," recalls Sacha, son of Sir David Puttnam on his former band. "Gavin knew exactly what he was doing and wanted to take it in a rock direction, but at that time I was being a bit 'London' and didn't really wanna do that, so I went off and hurt him badly," he recollects remorsefully. "The trouble is, just after I left, it started to sound really good! It's taken him all this time to forgive me." And forgiven him he has, as Sacha can now be regarded as the fifth member of Bush, having penned many of the strings and piano parts on current album 'The Science of Things'. But how did this reunion come about? "Well, I think Gavin was sending me to Coventry during 'Sixteen Stone' and 'Razorblade Suitcase', but just after that, I was back in London, teaching Tony Blair's kids the piano, during that whole nanny saga. I was also teaching film scoring at the National Film School, because that was what I had studied for a long time, then out of the blue, Gavin invited me down the studio, which was just in the nick of time because I was getting stiff!" But was Sacha a fan of the last two Bush albums? "Well, sort of," he says diplomatically, "..but since I've spent time in America, I've really got the 'rock' thing, so because of Bush, I'm understanding it now, whereas I didn't before. But from a keyboard perspective, it's quite difficult to add to a rock band, because I really didn't want to do a 'Europe' on them!" Talk about being thrown in at the deep end - Sacha's first journey with Bush was headlining Woodstock! "Because it was the first gig, I didn't want to get anything wrong, so I think I looked up at the beginning and at the end!" Strangely, Sacha was also oblivious to the magnitude of Bush's success. "I thought we'd be playing to about three people at the Dog and Duck! So I was somewhat surprised..." So, is this a long-term arrangement? "I don't think I would want to play with anyone else. Muse asked me if I would play with them, which was great, but my loyalties lie with Gavin. So, unless he wants to get rid of me..." he laughs. "We have a little 'minds together' session before going on stage... Not like Michael Jackson summoning God or anything, but it's lovely. Someone has to come in with a thought for the night and it's the little things like that, that really bring you together..."
BUSH +
Cyclefly
Hammersmith Palais, London.
And they say the Brits can't rock. Whether or not you can call Cyclefly (a band one part Irish, one part French and one part Italian) British is a minor detail. They reside on these fair shores and in a shameless case of Greg Rusedski-itus, shall, for our own gluttonous patriotic glory, be regarded as thus. It never did Placebo any harm, after all. Fronted by the emaciated modern day Iggy Pop, Declan O'Shea (a less acrimonious version with added zest), the thin slip of a man (as your granny would say) is in danger of disappearing down the plug-hole with the bath water. Pass the boy some lard. As the surreal vision of a skeletal Irishman with a florescent pink barnet glides over the crowd, you know you're in the presence of something exceptional. A stirring hotchpotch of Jane's Addiction, Babylon Zoo, Smashing Pumpkins (we'll forgive them compassionately for a blatant 'Hummer' rip-off), and PB Subcircus with a hot-rod up his rear-region and By Jove it works. They reel off 'Generation Sap' choice-cuts 'Violet High' and 'The Hive' in unashamed passion and proficiency. As Declan slithers onto the speakers, contorts sordidly with the microphone and gyrates suggestively, it's time for a cool hose-down. But only a quick on mind, as a homecoming for our heroes is high. Although Bush don't hump the PA equipment or don shiny hipsters, Gavin The Great does propel himself into the crowd during an elongated 'Greedy Fly' interlude. The over-enthusiastic masses stretch frantically to touch their demigod, pulling his clothes and ruffling his.. no... no... NO NOT THE HAIR! When will he learn? In fact, let's hope he doesn't (that ripped synthetic finger nail in his back pocket was mine...) Rumours that Bush have gone all radical on us, opting for that 'hip' drum 'n' bass edge are, of course, codswallop. There's no turntables, no off-the-wall percussional solos or booming beat boxes just pure, unadulterated high calibre ROCK. And they're flawless. Sometimes you wish they'd break the rules, fuck-up now and again or be spontaneous, but who are we to question the most successful British rock band since... well, forever. 'Machine Head' and 'Comedown' soundremarkably timeless and the core essence of new album 'The Science of Things' adds a new dimension to the atypically impeccable live Bush experience.
Rosanna Slater
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