Bush – Black And White Rainbows (2017) Review

By 2017, the alternative rock landscape was barely recognisable from the one in which Bush made their name.

Many of the bands who had once shared the airwaves with the British quartet had since dissolved, retreated to the nostalgia circuit, or tragically lost their frontmen.

So for Gavin Rossdale to guide Bush to a seventh studio album was an achievement in itself.

The sprawling 15-song Black & White Rainbows arrived as a celebration of a band that refused to die. Yet, while its attempts to push the band in a new musical direction are endearing, its execution often leaves room for improvement.

A Self-Made Prison

Gavin Rossdale adds a new string to his bow this time out.

Having previously shared a production credit on 2001’s Golden State, the frontman decided that the time had finally come to take full control, handling the core songwriting, mixing and production duties.

It was quite the responsibility.

Then again, if anyone was capable of extracting the maximum value from Rossdale’s admittedly narrow musical talents, you’d expect the man himself to be the best candidate for the job.

Which is perhaps why it’s such a surprise that the move doesn’t work.

Rather than build upon the progress made on Bush’s previous two records, which had successfully integrated keyboards and EDM textures into the band’s core grunge template, Rossdale smothers much of the new material beneath a thick layer of sanitised pop gloss that feels better suited to the solo work of his ex-wife, Gwen Stefani.

It’s one thing for a musician to be pushed into unfamiliar territory by an outside producer with a chaotic vision — think Andrew Farriss guiding Gun into their ill-fated 0141 632 6326 era — but things are far less forgiving when the artist is responsible for their own undoing.

Of course, Rossdale is hardly the first rock star to discover the pitfalls of taking too much control. Tony Iommi has recalled how Black Sabbath’s refusal to bring in an outside producer left him shouldering responsibility for 1976’s Technical Ecstasy, whose experimental direction he subsequently admitted hadn’t worked particularly well.

Similarly, Rossdale’s childhood hero David Bowie was scathing about 1987’s Never Let Me Down.

Black & White Rainbows isn’t quite as misguided as either of those records, but it’s frustrating nonetheless to hear Rossdale squander so much of the goodwill generated by both The Sea Of Memories and Man On The Run.

"There's violence in the silence."

Nothing But A Car Chase

Alleys And Motorways

Speaking of the former Mrs. Rossdale, she provides much of Black & White Rainbows’ lyrical inspiration.

The couple famously divorced in early 2016, slap-bang in the middle of preparations for this LP.

Consequently, Rossdale largely abandons his traditional abstract wordplay in favour of a more direct, autobiographical approach. Several tracks offer a snapshot into the alleys and motorways of his everyday life, drawing heavily from the personal upheaval he experienced during the breakdown of his marriage.

It’s a sharp left turn from Bush’s usual style, and one that produces decidedly mixed results.

At its best, the new material is sincere and relatable, with Rossdale sounding unusually vulnerable on tracks like The Edge Of Love and Lost In You. Both benefit from the confidence of a seasoned frontman who’s capable of conveying considerable emotion in his voice without resorting to microphone gymnastics.

On the flipside, stripped of the band’s traditional heaviness, Rossdale’s on-the-nose declarations of love often induce eyerolls. Where iconic lines from the past such as “I’d die in your arms, if you were dead too” (from 1994’s Little Things) or “Are you drowning or waving?” (from 2001’s Out Of This World) were capable of conjuring up vivid imagery, cringeworthy modern takes like “Still got mad love for you, baby” (Mad Love) and “Hang on to your love bugs” (Peace-S) will have you reaching for the skip button.

"It hurt the most as she said her last goodbye."

Ray of Light

An Unexpected Highlight

The soaring Alien Language is the unexpected highlight of Black & White Rainbows.

The track, a remarkably unvarnished ballad on which Rossdale addresses his personal turmoil in all its visceral sadness, sees the many pieces of his fragmented creative process finally click together for an astonishing high point.

Interestingly, the song was originally excluded from the record because the frontman believed its subject matter was “too personal”.

However, with its singles failing to make an impact on the charts, Zuma Rock Records decided to re-issue Black & White Rainbows seven months after release. The new version would include a brand new song (the mid-tempo rocker This Is War), which they believed might attract more radio airplay and increase commercial performance, and Rossdale made a U-turn, rescuing Alien Language from the vault for inclusion as a second bonus offering.

Musically, Alien Language revisits an arrangement previously attempted on the title track of 2014’s Man On The Run, but with far stronger results. Electronic textures surround Rossdale’s weathered vocals as he confronts the breakdown of his marriage, before launching into a skyscraper-sized chorus that dwarfs anything else on the record.

It stands tall as one of the finest achievements of Bush 2.0.

"All the light around the world, went out once I signed my name."

Alien Language

Screaming Daisies

Sadly, Alien Language proves to be the exception rather than the rule.

Much of Black & White Rainbows struggles to connect its musical ideas anywhere near as convincingly, and the glossy production only deepens the mire.

Hard-hitting rock numbers such as Dystopia sound wholly manufactured, as though each instrument has been dragged onto a timeline inside a music program rather than played by four musicians sharing a room. It’s a far cry from the ultra-raw Razorblade Suitcase, or even the professionally polished — but never overdone — Golden State.

The band still create moments of magic, particularly on the beautiful trio of Nurse, Lost In You and The Edge Of Love, but all too frequently those highlights are buried beneath a biteless mix that reduces rockers like The Beat Of Your Heart to something approaching pop-like flatness.

Elsewhere, the ridiculously titled Toma Mi Corazón, Peace-S and the Bowie-like Sky Turns Day Glo take things to frankly cringeworthy levels.

Another familiar Rossdale frustration also returns: his tendency to pair incredibly catchy verses with choruses that fail to deliver a payoff. Mad Love, Nothing But A Car Chase and Ravens are particularly guilty of letting themselves down, while even the aforementioned Nurse and Lost In You promise considerably more in their verses than their choruses ultimately deliver.

The Voice Of A Uninterested Generation

2016 was a busy year for Gavin Rossdale.

While preparing Black & White Rainbows, the frontman accepted a coaching role on ITV’s newly acquired The Voice UK, joining a high-profile panel alongside will.i.am, Jennifer Hudson and Sir Tom Jones.

This provided Bush with an enormous opportunity — a chance to finally introduce themselves to millions of British viewers, after famously struggling to replicate their massive American success at home during their mid-’90s peak.

Rossdale later admitted that the role was a key driver in his decision to pursue a more mainstream sound, believing it would help the band capitalise on their newfound television exposure.

Unfortunately, the gamble didn’t pay off.

Such was his anonymity in his native UK, Rossdale’s appointment was greeted by public confusion. Meanwhile, longtime fans of the band were frustrated to see that ITV was billing them as Bush with Gavin Rossdale, implying that the other musicians were mere hired hands.

Things got even worse for Bush (sorry, Bush with Gavin Rossdale) when they were invited to perform Mad Love live on the show in March 2017.

Airing in a primetime slot just one day after Black & White Rainbows’ release, it should have been the perfect launchpad.

Instead, Rossdale cut a nervous figure on stage, his trademark jagged rock vocals were laid bare before an audience accustomed to technically pristine singing. His unnecessarily energetic performance also seemed jarringly out of place on such a sombre track, failing to resonate with viewers.

Bush’s uphill battle for British validation rolled on.

Bush – Black And White Rainbows

Gavin Rossdale described the songs born from the breakdown of his marriage as “bruised music”, and it’s difficult to argue with that assessment.

Interestingly, the emotional weight behind Black & White Rainbows isn’t what lets it down — indeed, on Alien Language, that vulnerability produces one of the best moments of Bush’s rejuvenated career.

Unfortunately, that same deeply personal approach yields considerably weaker results throughout the remainder of the record, thanks to a combination of flat choruses, unnecessarily sanitised pop production, and Rossdale’s own decision to abandon his trademark abstract lyricism in favour of an on-the-nose storytelling style that, strangely, only serves to dilute the message.