Bush – The Science Of Things (1999) Review

You’ve got to hand it to Bush: they stuck with it.

After Sixteen Stone made them stars and Razorblade Suitcase sent them chasing credibility, third effort The Science of Things finds the band doing something smarter than either of those records.

For the first time in their career to date, Bush stop reacting — to critics, to trends, to Nirvana comparisons — and start sounding like a band comfortable enough to build its own identity.

That shift changes everything, leading to a record that feels significantly fuller and more adventurous than anything they’ve done before; one less beholden to grunge orthodoxy, and more willing to thicken their sound via layers of electronics, loops and atmosphere without losing sight of what made them work in the first place.

The Sound of a Band Letting Go

The key to this record’s success is confidence.

Where the first two albums often felt defined by what the band were either chasing or trying to escape from, The Science Of Things loses its inhibitions.

The addition of more experimental elements really pays off, providing the new songs with a sense of urgency that was sometimes missing from the formulaic grunge structures of the past — Nigel Pulsford’s lead guitar, in particular, sounds significantly more effective when framed by drum loops and denser, electronic textures.

This is why the soaring Warm Machine works so well as an album opener. It doesn’t ease you in, it detonates — first note, massive riff — to immediately inform you that Bush no longer care whether they sound “authentic” enough for anyone else’s made up rock rulebook.

"Your whiskey talks louder than most things I've read you've said"

WARM MACHINE

Return of the Hooks

Just as importantly, Gavin Rossdale finally seems willing to go all-in on the gift that always separated Bush from their peers: he can write huge radio-friendly choruses at will.

Lead single The Chemicals Between Us fols the album’s electronic ideas into a sleek, laser-focused rock blast that went on to become a genuine hit, topping Billboard’s Modern Rock Tracks chart.

That instinct carries across the album, with deeper cuts like Prizefighter, Dead Meat and Altered States all proving how effective Bush can be when they stop fighting their own strengths and just write direct, hard-driving rock songs.

They may be three albums deep, but this is the first time in their career where it feels like the band’s melodic instincts and their heavier side are pulling in the same direction.

Confidence Suits Them

That new assurance is what makes the album so satisfying.

Bush have never sounded this comfortable in their own skin. Spacetravel plays with scale and texture brilliantly, while The Disease of the Dancing Cats is gloriously overcooked in exactly the right way — heavy, strange and packed with the kind of Rossdale wordplay that sounds either ridiculous or brilliant depending on how much sleep you’ve had.

And that’s part of the appeal here — the album doesn’t feel timid, because even in the moments when Bush overreach, they do it with conviction.

"Tread slowly for I know,
There's a thousand miles to go,
Without blinking."

WARM MACHINE

Where It Slips Up

The Science of Things isn’t flawless.

A few of the experiments don’t quite land.

Stuttering rocker English Fire never fully ignites, and the overlong 40 Miles From the Sun begins promisingly before slowly leaking momentum.

Yet, interestingly, these dips don’t seem to matter as much as they would have on earlier Bush records. It doesn’t sag in the middle like Razorblade Suitcase, for example. This is mainly because the surrounding material is strong enough to carry the record’s weaker tracks — its floor is higher, even if its ceiling is arguably lower than the very best moments of Sixteen Stone.

“We recorded this as a rock record, then played with it in the studio for a few weeks — almost like Bush remixing Bush. We felt excited to include electronic elements in our sound after hearing some of the reinterpretations of our muisic that people did for us on Deconstructed.”

– Robin Goodridge

Ending on a High Note

The closing stretch is where Bush really sell the album’s new identity.

Letting the Cables Sleep is a perfect example of how much the thicker production helps them. It became another major alternative hit, spending an impressive 17 weeks on Billboard’s Alternative Airplay chart, and it earns that success by refusing to rush anything.

Then comes Mindchanger, which closes the record with a proper sense of force: layered guitars, looped drums, Rossdale sounding wounded and furious in equal measure. It culminates in a moment of eardrum-piercing guitar distortion that snaps under the weight of Robin Goodridge’s pummeling drum beat, and serves as a welcome reminder that Bush have lost none of their bite when broadening their sound — they just learned how to frame it better.

Bush – The Science Of Things

The Science of Things doesn’t offer the headline-grabbing singles of Sixteen Stone or the raw antagonism of Razorblade Suitcase, but it succeeds where both of those records fall short.

It’s the first Bush album that feels fully realised from start to finish — the guitar hooks are back, the production finally works for them rather than against them, and their experiments with electronic soundscapes mostly improve the songs instead of distracting from them.

Most importantly, it’s the album where Bush stopped sounding like a band trapped in somebody else’s argument.