Bush
Razorblade Suitcase

THE REVIEW

So many, too many, the foolish things I've read about the Bush.

The sensational accusation of resemblance/imitation made by the press against Gavin Rossdale concerning the late Kurt Cobain has always found me in disagreement. A careful listener and connoisseur of the Seattle trio understands that the English band Bush has a completely different attitude and character from the Nirvana style. The vocal timbre? You'll find lots of people with similar vocal timbres, it's not a novelty. An English band that at that time decided to go against the current trend in sound (Madchester, Britpop).

Further accusations were made regarding this Razorblade Suitcase, produced by Steve Albini (easy to guess), who curiously claimed he had never committed himself as much as he did in the creation of this project.

The approach is different compared to the debut Sixteen Stone, here indeed the typical method of the famous American artist highlights the blows struck on the drums and that garage sound that I personally love.

Personal Holloway and the agonizing filtered voice introduced by what seems to be the growl of a wolf welcome and lay the cards on the table presenting overwhelming and dirty riffs.

Slightly more romantic episodes, focused on couple problems, or almost in the notes Swallowed and Cold Contagious.

Angry, intermittent Insect Kin perhaps as never before.

The Razorblade Suitcase is the emotional baggage that the leader carries around the world.

Razors, scratches shown through simple words articulated in impactful phrases, supported by the ever-present bass line, reveal the abyss on which the topic is centered.

The strength of the group lies in having experimented and amplified practically constant change in each subsequent album.

An album born from that '90s exploitation of a certain repressed suffering.