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Relic rock
Bush and the Cranberries

BY MATT ASHARE

Given their history of latching onto the latest alterna-trend and riding it for all it’s worth, I was a little surprised that the new Bush album didn’t come on like recent Radiohead, with Gavin Rossdale as Kid A in a candy store of disconnected loops and samples and the rest of the band just along for the ride. Or maybe this time Bush were actually ahead of the curve. After establishing themselves as the most unabashed of the Nirvana-come-latelies of the mid ’90s, they did release a full album of pomo cut-and-paste remixes of their material — Deconstructed — back in ’97, at a time when Thom Yorke was still getting over "Creep." But that leaves Bush without much in the way of a role model for aging alterna-rockers, unless Rossdale wants to go solo and reinvent himself as whatever guys like Chris Cornell are supposed to be doing right now. And that’s a nebulous proposition at best. Because Rossdale’s way too beefcake to exude the same lovable-loser appeal that seems to have fueled the inexplicably triumphant return of one ’90s alterna-rock staple this year, River Cuomo’s Weezer.

Of course, every band get the occasional chance to play the back-to-our-roots trump card, and that’s exactly where Bush find themselves on Golden State, their first album for Atlantic and fourth overall. It says so right in the press materials that Atlantic sent along: "The British quartet has returned to its hard-edged roots." (If there’s one thing Bush have never been afraid of, it’s a rock-and-roll cliché.) The difficulty, I think, must have been in trying to balance their desire to be hard and metallic enough to elbow their way onto today’s rage-filled modern-rock airwaves with the need to hold onto the fans who originally came to Bush because they were a less challenging Nirvana. But Bush always did lean to the industrial metallic side of grunge, even as Rossdale did his best to remind us that what made Nirvana special was more than just the sum of Kurt’s frayed vocals and apocalyptic imagery. Because in retrospect it’s hard not to admit that Cobain was at times every bit as affected as Rossdale, and that there’s truly something intangible that makes one band great and another merely good.

Bush are great at being good. And so they remain on Golden State. For the most part, the disc truly is a return to the aggro-rock theatrics of their first two platinum discs, with enough angst and overdrive to satisfy the most alienated of teens. Rossdale’s lyrics still come off as a mixture of nonsense and cliché — "Speed kills, if you know what I mean," he rasps on "The People That We Love," before diving headfirst into "How’s it feel/She’s coming up roses/How’s it feel/She’s coming up sweet/How’s it feel when it’s all in spite of you/How’s it feel when she’s out of your reach?" Deep thoughts, if you know what I mean.

Rossdale does eventually go off in search of his inner Thom Yorke on the disc’s two semi-ballads. He trades that trademark Cobain rasp for a Yorkean falsetto on the fragile, acoustic-tinged "Inflatable" and then features a disconnected electronic drum beat against the ambient backdrop of "Out of This World," which never quite gets off the ground. In the end, though, it all comes across as a fair compromise between what was and what should be. Which is another way of saying that Bush haven’t gotten better with age, just more tolerable.

The Cranberries are another band who survived the ’90s more or less unscathed only to emerge in a decade that might not have a place for them. It’s a little hard to remember now what purpose they served, except that America’s always had a soft spot for earnest Irish rockers, especially cute ones. Subtlety having never been one of the band’s strong points, the new album is titled Wake Up and Smell the Coffee (MCA), which might not be so bad if it weren’t for wide-eyed singer Dolores O’Riordan’s attempts to turn that cliché into an earnest rallying cry on the disc’s title track. So, Dolores, who is it you feel has been asleep on the job? "Time Is Ticking Out" leaves its mark on a few other issues O’Riordan would like to get cleared up: "What about Chernobyl?/What about radiation?" and "Looks like we’ve screwed up the ozone layer/Wonder if the politicians care?" It must feel good to be so politically aware.

Issue Date: November 1 - 8, 2001





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