Bush
Razorblade Suitcase

THE REVIEW

In the '90s, Bush got on many people's nerves: an English band that sold millions of copies by mimicking the sound of Seattle bands, with a handsome lead singer who wrote seemingly dark lyrics, only to go and date that airhead Gwen Stefani... yet I must confess I didn't mind listening to them.

Their sound was formally perfect and well played, and it catered to the grunge-thirsty masses (and I was among them as a kid). If their debut "Sixteen Stone" was objectively negligible, except for those 2-3 compelling tracks, with the subsequent "Razorblade Suitcase," the four Brits managed to create a rather decent album. The production here is entrusted to Steve Albini (completely following in Nirvana's footsteps, then..), who is notoriously willing to produce just about anyone if the price is right. Albini does a good job in the control room, bringing out raw, rough, and even chaotic sounds, emphasizing breaks and going over the top as he did with the Pixies' "Surfer Rosa" and of course with "In Utero".

Thus, impeccable grunge in this album, for example in "Personal Holloway," "Greedy Fly" or in the very intense "Insekt Kin", which leads into an engaging guitar finale, while in the slow, dragging "Cold Contagious" you might feel like you're listening to Crazy Horse riffs in slow motion. The band's more cunning side emerges in the perfect single "Swallowed", or in the excellent electric-guitar-violin ballads "Straight No Chaser" and "Bone Driven", two tracks that would be perfect if the lyrics were a little more personal, instead of vaguely describing phantom pains and woes: "Satellites of pain can't always be ignored/ war on all sides...".

Ultimately, a decent album: unfortunately, I arrive late here and the great albums of the '90s have already been reviewed, and I'm left to talk about the second-tier ones.... "soulless grunge," but all in all, it's a pleasant listen.