Bush – Golden State (2001) Review

By the time Golden State arrived in October 2001, Bush had tasted a level of global success most British rock bands could only dream of.

Yet, their fourth studio album would mark a turning point for entirely different reasons.

Having experimented with the raw, abrasive production of Razorblade Suitcase and the electronic-laced textures of The Science Of Things, the band pivoted back to basics. Guitars returned to the forefront, the arrangements were leaner, and Gavin Rossdale’s appetite for enormous choruses was greater than ever.

Unfortunately for them, nobody was listening.

With America fully submerged in the nu-metal wave, grunge acts were left to suffer the same merciless obsolescence that had befallen hair metal bands a decade earlier.

This is unfortunate, because beneath its relatively modest commercial performance sits what may well be the finest album Bush ever made.

The Sound They Were Always Meant To Make

Bush’s decision to chase a conventional rock sound suits them down to the ground.

Producer Dave Sardy, whose previous credits included Marilyn Manson, was brought in to record the basic tracks live inside the studio, then tinker with the results in post-production.

This unusual recording style is what gives Golden State its unique “whole band in the same room” sound.

Opening track Solutions demonstrates the results; its brooding introduction briefly recalling the darker atmosphere of 1996’s Razorblade Suitcase, before the arrangement crashes into a broad, muscular chorus. The guitars are substantial — trust me, it’ll test your headphones — and Rossdale’s familiar rasp sits comfortably in the middle of the action.

Quiet/loud formulas are nothing new to Bush, of course, but the overall consistency of the meterial is noticeably higher this time around.

"Are you drowning or waving?"

Out Of This World

Captain Hook

Gavin Rossdale’s greatest strength has always been his ability to pen a radio-ready chorus, and Golden State is the record where he finally unleashes that talent to its fullest.

Lead single The People That We Love is a prime example.

Driven by an aggressive guitar riff, it chugs along an at impressive pace without ever derailing in the same way some of the band’s previous records might have.

It uses a musical template they return to several times throughout the record, resulting in a succession of remarkably strong album tracks that could’ve comfortably supported a far more extensive singles campaign.

Superman delivers another outstanding chorus, Fugitive combines an insistent rhythm with one of the record’s more appealing melodies, Reasons boasts an impressively aggressive rhythm section, and the blistering Hurricane is compact in a way that the Bush of old could never quite manage.

While perhaps never reaching the heights of the iconic singles run of their seminal debut, Golden State is redeemed by the fact that it manages to sustain this very high ceiling across almost all of its 47-minute runtime.

Not Just Heavy

Despite their love of distortion, Bush have always known when to ease off the pedals.

The delicate Infaltable strips things back to a noticeably smoother production, letting Gavin Rossdale’s tortured croon carry the track single-handedly.

We’ve seen this in the past, with both Glycerine and Letting The Cables Sleep, and it provides valuable contrast on a record that’s otherwise dominated by thick, driving guitars.

One could see this deliberate attempt to pace the album as a big step up from 1996’s Razorblade Suitcase, which often allowed its arrangements to become drawn-out and directionless affairs. On the contrary, Golden State is disciplined, tightly coiled, and in-your-face.

"You're so pretty in white, so pretty when you're faithful."

Inflatable

The Closing Stretch Seals It

The album’s final four tracks are where Golden State truly seals its reputation.

Seemingly no longer fighting his gift for penning radio-friendly rock, Rossdale channels his best impulses into the anthemic Land of the Living. The track delivers a hair-raising peak around the 2:57 mark, where the frontman pushes through the rhythm section to unleash a career highlight vocal performance.

This transitions sharply into the considerably more abrasive My Engine Is With You. Clocking in at barely two-and-a-half minutes, it ranks among the band’s shortest songs, yet its punishing wall of noise generates more than enough energy to stand alongside their best work.

From there, the powerful tandem of Out of This World and Float close out the album in style.

The former is a hauntingly spacious composition that lands in a way Razorblade Suitcase often tried and failed. The latter audibly expands into an emormous crescendo, anchored by an ear-catching pre-chorus harmonic shift and Nigel Pulsford’s thick power chords, which detonate beneath Rossdale’s vocals like tripped landmines.

It’s a spectacular closer, and easily one of the best performances on the entire record.

"All of this time, I was just trying to reach you, through the rain traffic."

Float

The Cost of the Polish

Bush’s decision to pursue mainstream rock wasn’t without consequences.

Sardy’s production might add the clarity and weight that make it so enjoyable, but it inevitably sands away some of the rawness that once made Bush feel quite volatile. Nigel Pulsford’s guitar parts, although still inventive, now feel safely integrated into carefully controlled arrangements rather than being allowed to operate around the edges as they did on the band’s previous efforts.

The album’s smoother finish wasn’t universally loved inside the band, either — especially by Pulsford.

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

The circumstances surrounding Golden State’s release were quite bizarre.

The original artwork — an image of a passenger aircraft travelling at high speed — had to be hastily redesigned in light of the September 11 attacks, which occured during the album launch.

Gavin Rossdale has since explained that this abstract painting was intended to be a reference to his frequent transatlantic journeys between London and Los Angeles, but felt the canvas had taken on disturbing associations that left him no choice but to recall all existing copies from shelves ahead of its opening week.

Likewise, lead single Speed Kills had its title changed to The People That We Love, and the frontman re-entered the studio to alter a lyric in Headful of Ghosts, replacing the word terrorist with maverick.

A handful of the originally printed records — featuring all of the above — did made it to market, where they have since become collectors items.

Commerical Decline

Commercially, Golden State failed to live up to its predecessors.

Despite peaking at a respectable No.22 on the Billboard 200 and No.4 on the UK Rock & Metal Albums Chart, this represented a significant step down for Bush. Its performance on the main UK Albums Chart was especially disappointing, reaching No.53 and spending just one week in the Top 100.

Much of this can be credited to the changing musical landscape of the time, with nu-metal usurping post-grunge as America’s favourite sub-genre of rock.

But while Bush’s decision to modernise their sound was by no means a guaranteed way of restoring their former glory, Golden State’s modest commercial performance should not be confused with a lack of musical quality.

The End Of An Era

Golden State will ultimately be remembered as the final Bush album to be recorded by the original quartet.

The talismanic Nigel Pulsford sensationally quit the band during the subsequent world tour, with Chris Traynor being drafted in to help the group complete the remaining dates.

At the time, Rossdale claimed this exit was a mutual decision to allow Pulsford to spend more time with his family, but the guitarist has since revealed his decision was equally influenced by his unease at hearing the polished final mix of Golden State, and the creative tensions that had been bubbling under the surface between he and Rossdale since 1999’s The Science Of Things.

When bassist Dave Parsons followed him out of the door, it seemed that was all she wrote.

Bush would eventually return in 2011 — without either — and produce a string of stellar material during their second run, but Golden State remains an important dividing line in their catalogue. Of course, the heavy irony is that the album which brought their original recording career to an end is arguably the one where their songwriting and performances fit together most effectively.

Bush – Golden State

Golden State may lack the cultural impact of Sixteen Stone, and its smoother production won’t satisfy those who preferred the raw aggression of Razorblade Suitcase.

It also breaks relatively little new musical ground.

But those limitations are outweighed by the quality and consistency of the songs.

Indeed, there might be individual songs on earlier records that surpass anything here, but as a complete listening experience, Golden State is difficult to beat.

The People That We Love, Superman, Fugitive, Hurricane and Reasons provide a formidable collection of melodic rock tracks, while the outstanding closing sequence of Land Of The Living, My Engine Is With You, Out Of This World and Float demonstrates how much depth the album has beyond its singles.

It remains the crowning achievement of Bush’s original line-up, and one of the most overlooked rock albums of 2001.