Beautiful Rain Issue 2
I'm an alien, you're an alien...
Hello and welcome to the second issue of Beautiful Rain. I didn't do this on the last issue so I'm going to personally thank Merriejayn@aol.com (Meredith or Batman whichever you prefer) for helping me get this thing up. Thank you Batman, from Robin. OK, I'm sorry this one isn't so good, I've had a TON of homework this week (hate HONORS classes) so I haven't been able to go searching on the web for anything spiffy. E-mail me with anything you may have for this 'zine, news, contest answers, whatever.
OK, not much BUSH news going on as of right now. Bush are still recording their album that should be out around Febuary of March after the release of a single. And Nigel's solo album is still being delayed!
BUSH: Playing With Care
By Sam Harcourt
It started out as a quiet dinner for a few select music industry insiders in a
posh New York City resteraunt. It soon turned into a veritable screaming
match between two noted rock scribes. The subject of debate? A band
called Bush. One writer lauded the group as one of the most significant
bands of the '90s- an act capable of disseminating the rage, power and
passions of the era through easily-digestible musical bites. Another
denounced Bush as nothing more than a modern-day answer to Def
Leppard- a too-pretty-for-their-own good British "pop" band that had a
special ability to break down the inherent strengths of the rock form into
their lowest common commercial denominators.
Such are the passions that Bush can brew in even the most jaded musical
heart. While they have quickly emerged as one of the rocks form's
ultimate objects of love/hate, the fact remains that no matter how one may
choose to view this London-based group comprised of vocalist/guitarist
Gavin Rossdale, guitarist Nigel Pulsford, bassist Dave Parsons and
drummer Robin Goodridge, their music remains among the most
listened-to of this decade. Bush's two albums, Sixteen Stone and
Razorblade Suitcase, have now sold a combined total in excess of five
million copies, and their current world tour ranks as one of the year's
top-grossing and most eagerly anticipated events. But still as a myriad of
argument-inducing questions about Bush remain; Are they truly
"significant" contributors to the musical ambiance of the late 90's? Has
Rossdale's pin-up boy good looks managed to supersede his group's
accomplishments? And despite their on-going success, is Bush geared for
a long-term run in the rock and roll spotlight?
"Where do you want me to begin?" joked Parsons when asked a few of
the above queries in rapid-fire order. "I believe that we can keep going
for a long while. I can't guarantee that it will be at the same level of
commercial acceptance that we have now, but that's not really for me to
say. That's up to the fans who buy the albums. We played in clubs before
all this began to happen, and I'm sure we'd be willing to do it again, if
need be. But at this particualr moment, of a wonderful tour, on which
we're playing very well. From there we'll gladly let the chips fall where
Certainly those chips have fallen in a continually winning pattern for Bush
since the moment of their debut single, Everything Zen, first hit the
airwaves in mid 1995. Since then, a seemingly endless succession of
chart-topping, award-winning tunes have spewed forth from the band's
collective pen, including th likes of GLycerine, Comedown, Swallowed
and Greedy Fly. The sum total of their achievements have served to
propel this unit to the pinnacle of international acclaim- in the process
making them the single most successful British hard rock band since that
nation's halcyon rock and roll days of the mid-80's. Though they still
occasionally run into harsh criticism for appearing to rely too heavily on a
varitey of American musical influences- especially the incendiary
early-90's Sounds of Seattle- the members of Bush themselves strongly
believe that with each passing day their own unique musical personality
moves more closer to the fore.
"Isn't silly that we still have to defend our music?" Goodridge asked. "If
you don't like it, that's fine. If you do like it, that's even better. But it
seems that only a very small percentage pf those who are familiar with us
seem caught up on our influences, yet that somehow remains a continuing
story. I don't believe the people who buy our albums or come to our
shows really care about such things. They seem well prepared to accept
us for who and what we are. That's all any band can ask for."
It may well be true that it is only a few misguided souls in the media that
continue to focus so sharply on the supposedly limited artistic content of
Bush's music. The millions of fans around the world who flock so
religiously to the band's cause have apparently no interest in getting
caught up in some absent-minded debate concerning what influences from
rock's past may be rearing their heads within the context of Bush's
musical output. For them, Rossdale's rugged vocal timbre, Pulsford's
pulsating lead lines and group's thought-provoking lyrical foray are more
than enough to induce a mild case of rock and roll euphoria-the likes of
which have rarely been seen in these quixtoxic cutural times. Not quite
alternative, not exactly heavy metal and certainly not power pop, Bush's
music falls into an exciting artistic netherworld all its own. And while such
distinction may annoy some who continually pigeonhole the band's efforts
, for their fans the group's uniqueness has come to symbolize Bush's
badge of musical courage.
"In all honesty, I don't think there's really anything else out there quite like
us," Parsons explained. "Certainly in England we stand out from the
crownd- and that hasn't always been good for us. Some of the other
musicians back home feel we're pandering to American tastes, whatever
that means. All I know is that we play the music we feel in our hearts.
We've always been fans of rock and roll from the Beatles onward, and if
some of those influences do come through, perhaps we should be very
proud of that."
Indeed, no one has ever speculated that a rock and roll band need
reinvent the wheel in order to succeed, and Bush's ability to homogenize a
variety of styles into their own may be among their strongest assests.
When one combines their musical panache with their stong stage
presence and Rossdale's headline grabbing looks, the reasons for Bush's
success become eminently clear. Now with two sucessful albums under
their belts, Bush are more confident than ever that their stay atop the rock
world will be a long and memorable one. While some cynics wanted to
dismiss the band after the success of Sixteen Stone as potential "one hit
wonders", these lads have shown that they've got the smart, savvy and
songs to remain a vital cog in the rock and roll machine for years and
years to come.
"We've learned that no matter what you do you really can't please
everyone," Pulsford said. "We've also come to understand the surprising
lesson that the more successful you become, the bigger target you
become. But it never has bothered us. We've learned just to soak it all in
and enjoy it as best as possible."
Nobody won the contest last week, there were all very good guesses, this week, I will only do one question. And here it is:
What was BUSH called before BUSH?
This story was written by Faln4Stars@aol.com, if you would like the previous chapter e-mail that person, not me.
The next morning, I stepped out of my small, cozy cottage, smiling at the
beautiful day. My cottage was alone close to a small hill, away from the busy town of New Castle.
A long dirt road stretched to the lake, where I had been yesturday. I started down the dirt road,
towards Gavin's cottage, where I planned to pick up my camera that I had left their yesterday.
I walked along the road, passing a herd of sheep, wishing that I had my camera, that would of been a
great picture. I was still amazed at how beautiful Ireland was, espically around this time of year, the
green's of the grass were so rich, not like anything I had ever seen before.
I rounded the corner of the dirt road, glancing at the beautiful white cottage, much more elegant then
the cottage I had rented, for this cottage had green's crowning on the top of the roof, covering most
of it. A tall man pasted me smiling and tipping his hat,"Top of the mornin' to ya."
I smiled back at him and proceeded to Gavin's cottage. How friendly poeple here in Ireland were, I
just wanted to eat it up.
I walked up the pebble path, breathing in heavily and smoothing out my white collared shirt, then
tapped softly on the door.
"Morning Gavin,"I started, sliding my hand through my blonde hair nervously. He looked very
hansom, espically with that blue collared shirt on. I shoke my head of the thoughts, I was here to pick
up my camera, nothing else,"I left my camera here yesturday."
He nodded,"Yeah, come on in and I'll get it for you."
I hesistated for a moment to come into Gavin's beautiful cottage. What's holding me back? Why am I
so nervous around Gavin? I stepped in the cottage and waited by the front door. Gavin started down
the hall but stopped and turned to look at me.
"You can come in,"Gavin said, laughing, and grabbing my arm. I followed him down the hall and into
the large room, placing me on the soft couch. Winston jumped up on the couch, almost knocking
over the acoustic guitar that leaned against the couch.
"Hi Winston,"I said, scratching behind his ears, he lay down next to me, placing his head on my lap.
"Whinny likes you,"Gavin observed. I turned and smiled, he handed me my camera case,"He usally
"Well, I was here yesturday." I got up from the couch, Winston whining in protest.
"I really must be going now, I have some work...pictures that need to be taken,"I said, brushing past
"Where?" he asked as I stopped at the front door.
"Out, over by the lake, you can come if you want, but it might get boring after awhile," I said,
watching Gavin's face light up.
"I'd love to, let me get Winston's leash," he said, dashing off. He came back in just a matter of
moments, with Winston on his leash. "Lets go,"he said, Winston pulling on his leash to get out the
I sat on the soft grass next to Gavin, on a hill, over loked the beautiful lake. Winston was off his
leash, and leaping around in a patch of pink flowers.
"Where do you live?" Gavin asked me as I finished snapping a picture of the lake.
"I'm originally from England, but I got this job promotion and now I'm living in California," I said, a bit
proud about telling him about my promotion.
"I live in California too, well sort of,"he said, laughing a little. I watched Winston for a moment and
realized that he was running down the hill after a rabbit. I sprung up from my place in the grass,
jogging off towards Winston, Gavin noticing why I was running, and started running, yelling Winston's
name and whistling.
I started running down the hill quickly, not seeing the rock in front of me, and falling, more like flying
through the air and then falling, hard on my leg, a shooting pain coming through my whole body.
"Oceana!"Gavin yelled, running towards her,"Are you ok?"
I flushed in my own embarrassment.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, trying to get up from the ground, but couldn't, the shooting pain in my leg kept
me down,"No..I'm not," I said, forcing a stiff laugh. Winston came running up the hill, panting from his
chase after the rabbit. Gavin helped me up onto my feet, but still held onto my as I attempted my first
"Can you make it back to my house?" He asked me.
"No... it hurts to much," I said, leaning on his shoulder. He gently picked me up and started to walk
to his cottage, carrying me in his arms!
"Gavin! Really, I can try to walk,"I said, laughing a little, I had never been carried like this before.
We came into Gavin's home and came in the large room again. He sat me gently on the white couch.
"Should I call a doctor?"
"No, I'm sure I just pulled a muscle, or at worst sprained my ankle or something, this has happened
to me before,"I said, giving Gavin a re-assuring smile, but slipped into a yawn.
"Tired?"he asked, still standing in front of me. I nodded. Gavin picked up his guitar, sitting down on
the floor and slowly strumming chords. My eye-lids grew heavier for every chord he strummed, the
last thing I heard was the distant sound of the telephone ringing.
I set down my guitar quietly, and slowly got up from the floor, eyeing Oceana who was sleeping on
the couch. She was beautiful, with her blonde hair that came to her shoulders almost but now
encircled her face as she dirfted into sleep. Her straight nose, thin lips and perfect complection just
added to her beauty. I quickly walked out of the room and down another hallway, turning into my
"Allo?" I said into the phone.
"How long does it take you to answer the damn phone?" "Nigel!" I said to the familiar voice I hadn't
heard in such a long time,"I was...busy."
"I see. How you doing with the song writting?" he asked.
"Ok, I suppose. I have about nine new songs so far," Which was true.
"How are you and Gwen?" he asked. I shut my eyes in pain. Why did he have to bring up Gwen?
"Are you still trying to get her back?" he pursued.
"Yes," I replied.
"And..."Nigel pushed, but I fell silent so he continued,"Have you talked to her lately?"
"Not since Monday,"I said, remembering the conversation I had had.
"Its like, one minute you love me then the next you dump me..why?"
"I know... I know why Gav, I just don't think you are ready to deal with it."
"I need to know Gwen."
"Are you sure? Gav..I fell in love with Tony again, I couldn't and can't help it."
"What?" I can't believe this..."
"Let me explain."
I didn't let her explain, and slammed down the phone instead. That was about 3 days ago, I still
haven't talked to her since.
"You there?" I heard Nigel said, who seemed to be getting annoyed,"I'm going to hand up if you
"Yeah, I'm still here," I said, cutting him off,"What were you saying again?"
"I was telling you why I called,"Nigel sighed.
"Oh right! Uh..why did you call?"
"Where has your mind been all this time? What I was saying is I'm coming to Ireland in a week or
two, to check out the music and stuff."
"Cool. What about the rest of the guys?"
"I haven't called them yet, but I will,"Nigel said
"Ok, well I'll let you go so you can," I said, a little anxious to get off the phone anyways.
After I hung up with Nigel, I stretched out on the bed, looking up at the white ceiling that swirled out
from side to side and then got smaller as it came into the middle. (Author Note:Looks like Casper's
Room, the movie "Casper") I thought for a moment, mostly about Gwen, to call her or not.
I decided to call her tomorrow and try to get her back, but who was I kidding, at this point it was
Copyright 1998 Beautiful Rain
"Racism is a product of fear and ignorance, live and let live, remove fear."-Gavin