In part one of what amounts to be my “I Love the ’90s” week (Smashing Pumpkins review coming Friday), I took in the Bush, Chevelle and Filter show Saturday night at the Eagle’s Ballroom. I have been intrigued by the comeback of Bush, a band that I have had some trouble figuring out where to place in ’90s historical context. I never really considered the band a top-tier group (Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Tool, etc.), but I also thought it brought considerably more to the table than second-tier bands such as Collective Soul, Oasis, Offspring, etc. With my mind open and my madly-in-love-with-Bush-frontman-Gavin Rossdale wife alongside, I headed out to my least favorite Milwaukee venue to make some decisions.
The night started off predictably enough. According to the Rave website, Filter was to kick the show off at 7 p.m., but as soon as we walked in the door a piece of paper taped to the ticket window informed us that the band, in fact, had already played its set and Chevelle had just taken the stage. Undeterred by (and actually OK with) the fact that I would probably never again see “Hey Man, Nice Shot” live, we pressed on past the middle-aged man in the Harley jacket being thrown out for hiding his pot pipe in his sock and made our way up the stairs. Ah, the Rave.
Chevelle is a band that has always confounded me a bit. I feel like they have all of the pieces in place for me to really like them. They write a solid hook, deliver it with the proper amount of angst and create a wildly impressive wall of sound for being a three piece. But something in me just won’t let me commit to being a full-on Chevelle fan. Maybe it’s the fact that all of their songs tend to blend together a bit or that I get the distinct feeling that each tune takes them about 10 minutes to write. Or maybe it is the hint of cheesiness that resulted in lead singer Pete Loeffler yelling “Come On, Milwaukee” before nearly every chorus.
But there is no doubt that the band delivers a solid effort live, featuring incredibly tight musicianship and Loeffler’s increasingly spot-on vocals. The tune selection ranged from the band’s latest effort Sci-Fi Crimes to some of the more classic songs from the group’s impressive decade of music-making, including rockers “Well Enough Alone” and “The Clincher” along with the massively overplayed but still rather impressive in person “The Red.” And as the final distorted chord rang out over the not-quite-capacity Eagle’s Ballroom, Loeffler tossed his PRS (translation: not cheap!) guitar into the crowd, though a roadie was spotted jumping off stage in a potential attempt to retrieve it.
Before Bush took the stage, I had to remind myself to be fair in my assessment. After all, it wasn’t their fault that they were playing on the same night and in the same building as Minus the Bear, one of my favorite bands ever. Then another thought crossed my mind: There are three rather large shows (J Cole was also in The Rave Ballroom) going on simultaneously in this really old, unsound building complete with creaking floors and fire code violations as far as the eye could see. But before I could finish plotting my disaster escape route, the lights dimmed and Bush kicked in with one of their biggest hits “Little Things.”
The set list went pretty much as expected: Play the hits like “Greedy Fly,” “Everything Zen” and “Machinehead,” mix in a few choice cuts from the new album, The Sea of Memories, and leave some room for a healthy encore featuring a cover of The Beatles’ “Come Together,” an inexplicably rocked up version of “Glycerine” (it was clear Rossdale was not a fan of playing the song and felt it needed some updating), and a flat-out awesome “Come Down.” At one point in the evening, Rossdale basically summed it up by saying: “If you don’t know a song, it’s off The Sea of Memories.”
Rossdale and drummer Robin Goodridge were the only original members with Corey Britz filling in on bass and Chris Traynor (Orange 9mm, Helmet, Rival Schools) on guitar. And though original guitarist Nigel Pulsford was a key component to the band’s songwriting and early success (and iconic with that shiny bald head of his), Traynor did well in his stead to keep up with the energetic Rossdale who was all over the place, including taking several trips down into the crowd.
Ultimately I was impressed with how much better Bush was than I remembered or expected. Perhaps I didn’t give the band enough credit while it was running single after single up the charts in the mid-’90s. But my main takeaway from the night was how much Bush kicked Chevelle’s ass. For two bands that I would say achieved pretty comparable levels of success in their prime, the ’90s-based Bush outshined the ’00s-based Chevelle in songwriting, performance and overall bad-assedness (trust me, it’s a word!). Perhaps there’s some commentary on the current state of hard rock music there, or a resounding affirmation of the quality of hard rock music that was pumped out during the ’90s. Or perhaps I’m just a nostalgic stickler who doesn’t understand the music that the kids are listening to these days.
Nah, that can’t be it!
Photo courtesy Bush.com.
