That's it in a nutshell for British rock band Bush, which has just released its fourth album, ``Golden State'' (Atlantic Records), after making a key last-minute song title change because of the Sept. 11 attacks.

Once derided by the rock cognoscenti as Johnny-come-latelies, Bush came out of nowhere in 1994 to sell 9 million copies worldwide of its debut album ``Sixteen Stone'' and is now heralded as one of the few survivors from that era.

The belated respectability has coincided with frontman Gavin Rossdale's reluctant ascension to famous-rock-star-couple status, putting him in the same league as compatriots like Damon Albarn of Blur (''I totally hate him,'' Rossdale says) and the Gallagher brothers of Oasis.

Lightbulbs flash when he steps out with his girlfriend, Gwen Stefani, lead singer of California ska-rock band No Doubt. She turned up at Bush's recent Hollywood club gig, sharing a table with ``Friends'' stars Jennifer Aniston and Courteney Cox and their husbands. To Rossdale's annoyance, Stefani sang about their relationship on her group's latest album.

``We just tried to keep it really private and then we had a really difficult time and then when she brings out (the single) 'Ex-Girlfriend' she just ... blows it out of the water,'' Rossdale recalled in a recent interview with Reuters. ``The gloves are off.''

BAND FIRST, GWEN SECOND

The two made up, and Rossdale confirmed the family-oriented Stefani is putting pressure on him for a long-term commitment. Rossdale, the product of a broken home, is in no rush.

``I think we have to just work hard to make sure that we're not too driven work-wise, which we both are,'' Rossdale said. ''But probably we'll kinda resolve certain things between us, in a really good way. But we need to just work on our respective bands at this point.''

Rossdale, 34, who writes the band's songs, said he opted not to address Stefani on his band's new album. Still, ``Golden State'' boasts an unmistakably optimistic tone, in contrast to the brooding nature of previous efforts.

``Lyrically it was less cryptic than normal, melodically definitely more positive,'' said drummer Robin Goodridge, 35.

In the wake of the Sept. 11 attacks, the band changed the name of the first single, ``Speed Kills,'' to ``The People That We Love.'' It seemed like a knee-jerk reaction, especially since the song has nothing to do with terrorism.

The title change was prompted by ``letters that we received from certain quarters,'' Goodridge said.

``I don't know what letters you mean,'' Rossdale chimed in. ''It just seemed to me that around that hysteria of the time, understandably we just want to be part of the solution.''

More to the point, Rossdale disliked the original title anyway, because it bugs him when a song's title is referred to in the first line of lyrics (''Speed Kills coming down the mountain/Speed kills coming down the street'').

TOO CUTE FOR CRITICS

Rossdale formed Bush nine years ago in London with Goodridge, lead guitarist Nigel Pulsford, 37, and bassist Dave Parsons, 35, naming the group after the British capital's suburb of Shepherd's Bush. They struggled for a while before signing with Los Angeles-based independent label Trauma Records.

As ``Sixteen Stone'' shot up the U.S. charts, fueled by constant touring and five hit singles starting with ``Everything Zen,'' critics accused Bush of being a pale imitation of grunge bands like Nirvana and Soundgarden. Rossdale's pin-up looks, politeness and self-effacing humor only made them madder.

Rossdale is still tanned and buff, but the critics have moved on to new targets like teen pop. The fans may have moved on too.

``Golden State'' debuted at No. 22 on the U.S. album charts with 55,000 copies sold the first week. Its previous effort, 1999's ``The Science of Things,'' opened at No. 11 with 106,000 units sold.

The buzz bands of the moment, such as Incubus, Nickelback, Mudvayne and Linkin Park, boast a heavy edge. Rossdale says any band can sound heavy with the right equipment. He places Bush in the ``groovy and sexy'' category.

``Science'' ultimately sold about a million copies in the United States, a respectable figure at a time when guitar-driven rock was out of favor.

Still, Bush felt Trauma had dropped the ball and it was time to jump to a major label. The group hired manager Irving Azoff, famous for sending a gift-boxed live boa constrictor to an adversary, to handle the negotiations.

``He talks absolute logic,'' marveled Goodridge. ``He convinces you that whatever he wanted in the first place, you will give him.''

Rossdale thinks Bush still has a few more albums left ``as we're still not sure about things, or slightly insecure about certain areas of our creative world.''