Wall Of Sound Feature
Popular Science


Bush frontman Gavin Rossdale excuses himself and puts down the phone. "I had to take my top off, it's so hot in this room," he says when he returns a moment later.

Let's pause a moment for those so inclined to swoon.

Rossdale's bared torso, of course, has gotten him in trouble before, mostly because it's stolen attention from his band — which, truth be told, merits props as one of the '90s' great success stories. Since blasting out of Britain in 1993 with a wall of post-grunge guitar noise, Bush has notched two multi-platinum studio albums, 1994's Sixteen Stone and 1997's Razorblade Suitcase, as well as million-selling remix effort, Deconstructed. Now comes The Science of Things, a highly anticipated fourth-quarter (record biz prime time) release that will do battle with fellow modern rock heroes such as Stone Temple Pilots and Rage Against the Machine in stores during the next few months. Previewed during performances at Woodstock '99 and NetAid, Science contains most of Bush's sonic hallmarks — particularly Rossdale and new papa Nigel Pulsford's dense six-string assault — but this time adds electronic touches such as samples and loops to give the songs and different kind of rhythmic roil (as well as a guest appearance from No Doubt's Gwen Stefani, the singer's girlfriend, on the song "Space Travel"). And Rossdale's lyrics, which frequently focus on interpersonal communications, also take on a slightly greater political charge. With Pulsford back after a leave of absence earlier this fall to be with his wife for the birth of their daughter, Bush is looking at the Science of the road, including lengthy stints on both sides of the pond. But first, our shirtless subject weighs in on the science of all sorts of things.

Having had the big debut album and the successful follow-up, could you approach The Science of Things with a greater degree of confidence?

I'm just confident when I'm playing and I'm singing. I was told by these women, these psychics I went to see, that I seem more confident and I shouldn't believe in the self-doubt that I have. But I said "I have self-doubt for breakfast. I eat doubt every day." I just know you let your heart play and your heart sing, see what happens. But I think this record is the best set-up and best worked- on by everyone around us as possible. And I firmly believe it will reach its full potential, whatever that potential will be.

Was there a particular song or songs that kick-started the album or gave you an early indication about where you were headed, creatively?

It was the title that set me in motion, really. I always name the album — I did it on the first two albums and on Deconstructed. With this one, I really made an effort to think of the album title first, and that's how it started the ball rolling, to make it exploratory and asking questions, just looking for ways to explain things.

So what are "The Chemicals Between Us?"

Sometimes I live with phrases, and I lived with that phrase for a bit. I was thinking about the complete impermanence that I've experienced in my life. I come from a very fragmented life, lots of different people, different relationships. I've never experienced permanence. That kind of pushes you the other way; it makes you want that. And I was thinking there are just chemical differences between people, DNA. Genetically speaking, there's a whole thing going on that either means you're suited to being with that person or not. And yet people go into these relationships, and either the sex is so good or you both like drinking a lot of tequila or you both like jogging or something that brings you together. There's a whole much deeper, intense, intrinsic thing going on that will actually determine whether you stay together or not. That would be in your DNA. I don't know if it's a load of s--t, but that's what I was thinking about, and I was thinking the chemicals between us would be when things aren't going so good and you're lying in that lonely bed with that person and you're not communicating.

You always try to mine some ideas and deliver some messages in your songs. Are you concerned that those are given short shrift next to the kind of beefcake, pin-up image that surrounds you?

I think that's an everyday problem. The only way to transcend that is to keep writing good songs and allow quality to just rise up. If this record does well, we've had a mad, extraordinary run for a band in this day and age, considering that there's so much competition and so many bad records that get made. If we have another record that's deep, and we make sure the spirit is intense, those things will just be diminished. And I've always felt that. But I don't mind them going hand in hand. It's flattering to have people think you're attractive to them. There's a whole visual aspect to music as well; I think Jim Morrison looked pretty good.

So, you knew the title — what came first?

The first song I wrote was "40 Miles From the Sun." There seems to be this fear of the apocalypse, fear of the change we're undergoing. I wanted to do a song that was like you were walking at the end of the world. I think there's many great things about the technological advances we're making, but nobody seems to be shouting about the things we've fucked up, the things that have gone wrong — the whole genetic engineering, cloning, DNA, the genetically modified crops, the whole deforestation thing, pollution, over-population, I figured, wow, I should be aware of those as well.

Of course, there are some quarters where technological progress is paramount and some of these things you're mentioning are considered acceptable casualties.

Yeah, and they're probably the people who make money off them. The album is kind of reflective, based upon notions of our need to communicate and acceptance that sometimes some things aren't great. Technology is fine, but humans are better. "Jesus Online" is a song, in point, for trying to keep a hand on something spiritual and human and people-oriented in the face of technology. But we're also embracing that technology; we're one of the first bands to have this e-music, MP3 download situation going on. It's interesting to be railing against the system and asking questions, as anyone should be, and then covertly working with it to make sure you blow the building up from the inside.

Is there a message then, implied or otherwise, that there's a right or better way to use this kind of technology?

Yeah, definitely. I've never written goth songs, you know. I've always had songs of hope. I've always felt that in order to discover life, you have to consider death. In order to appreciate the good things, you have to be aware of the evils in society and the evil around you. But it's not doom-laden. It's just an idea of being conscious about things. I'm riddled with hope, actually.

Hope in a hopeless world, as Bruce Cockburn would say?

At times, yeah. Obviously so many great things are happening, but we have just had Kosovo, and lots of natural disasters. There are plenty of wars going on. We still have the Northern Ireland questions. There are plenty of things that desperately need resolving and communication. That's one of the themes of the record, the communications aspect of our society. And of course that's one of the greatest things about the Internet; the whole point about the Internet, to me, is the direct access, the direct communication. That's very exciting, that exchange of ideas.

What kind of impact has the Internet made on the way Bush does things?

Well, you know, for most of us — definitely me included — it's in its infancy. But it's all moving ahead. I've just been in a cyber cafe looking at some artwork. It suits all of us, because our attention spans are so diminished. We're excited to be on the forefront of things and, in some way, pioneering stuff. It takes awhile to step up to the plate and to pull the machine towards you.

What led you to incorporate the technical underpinnings — the loops and sequences — on The Science of Things?

A lot of it came from being in Ireland, writing the songs, doing the demos on my own and the programming end of everything. It just opened up a whole world to me that I've always enjoyed. I really like that kind of music, and it was nice to bleed the two together. And I just felt I didn't want to do it as a straight rock record like I did the last time, which was exciting to do, and working with Steve (Albini) was brilliant. But I felt like I'd done that record, and I wanted to do something much more layered.

Do you feel that Bush is more respected these days?

I always knew that time would be on our side in this context. If we can continue making good records — and I think so far we've done that — it keeps us alive. I like infiltrating the mainstream; I still very much feel like a complete outsider and don't feel like we're part of the landscape. And now it's either pop or metal and rap; we still don't fit in anywhere. That gives a lot for people to hold onto.

I've always regarded Bush as kind of centrist, a real meat-and- potatoes rock band that a lot of people really like for just that reason.

Don't get me wrong; I don't feel un-liked. I just don't feel part of the current climate, which is a very, very pop world at the moment. It feels like infiltrating the mainstream when you think of all the pop bands. The Backstreet Boys are, like, the hugest band. I think it's very important to be trying to do good work in the face of that.

Bush has played some pretty big concerts this year, particularly Woodstock and NetAid, and you seemed particularly exuberant at both. Were you just pent up from being in the studio?

Sometimes I can't help that; I feel really primal, especially when I'm playing. I see so many people who play and seem so isolated from the audience. I really want to be in there; I want to be in people's blood. It's not desperation, it's a drive and an energy. I probably should keep my clothes on more, though. [laughs.]

After making that kind of connection at Woodstock on the Friday night, how did you feel about everything that happened later in the weekend?

The saddest part to me is just that the fire and Sunday night has dominated the headlines. I had a sublime time, a brilliant time. It was just a great experience. For me, it was a real privilege being an English band, playing something that legendary, headlining it, or having a really main slot, that was a lot to me, and I just wanted to savor that moment. I know that Sheryl Crow has gone on record as kind of slating the audience, saying she's never seen such an angry lot. I don't know whether Korn killed everyone off for us and then all the boys who got so excited watching Korn went off to work out or something, because the people watching us, they didn't seem aggressive at all. It just seemed really full of hope and full of love and full of really good energy. It was really positive.

Is it good having Nigel back now that his daughter's been born (on October 2)?

Yes, of course. He's out here, but he's missing his wife and kid. He can't win. I said, "Just bring her out on the road. I don't care; bring her. Just get a separate bus." [laughs.] I'd rather have a happy Nigel than someone who misses his wife too much, although it's kind of good for his guitar playing, makes it nice and edgy. I don't want it too settled. But if I had a wife or kid, they'd be with me now.

Since you brought it up, is there anything new on that front?

No, nothing new in that direction, unfortunately. I'd like it. I'm bit scared of giving my whole life to music. I wouldn't mind combining a little bit of the life that other people seem to have with what I do.



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