This past Friday, July 18, Gavin Rossdale and Bush released the group’s 10th album, I Beat Loneliness.
I connected with Gavin at his home in Los Angeles.
Alan Cross: The new Bush album is entitled I Beat Loneliness. You look at that on the surface, and it seems like the most autobiographical title of all time, is it?
Gavin Rossdale: Yeah, I think so. I forced myself to ask what was important to me. It led me to re-evaluate myself, what I thought would be satisfying to investigate. I just went on deep dives, every song is a different experiment, sonically, musically. I still keep myself 25 per cent madly ignorant of music. I just hear things differently because I’m just feral like that. But a little bit of spill gives it the source, gives it the blood.
So yeah, this record is very autobiographical. What’s wild is when you reach the inner caves of your sick mind, you start saying things that resonate with other people who have sick minds, which, by the way, is everyone.
Everyone, I believe, is dealing with their sort of madness. And it should be commended for finding a way through and being positive and returning the next day to continue where they left off the day before. I think that’s why I’m writing records for regular people who bash through lives, good days, bad days, in different ways, and just bash on regardless.
I don’t like this aspirational life. I hate social media; everyone’s got a better life than I have. I hate that I look at it and I’m like, is my life good enough? And I’m like, your life is great. Stop looking at that BS.
AC: I have exactly the same problem. Yet I am completely compelled to go back to social media and doomscroll several times a day. It’s not that I feel that my life is terrible. It’s just that I think it’s almost a desire to make my life worse by seeing exactly what’s going on in the world.
GR: What feeds into your inner paranoia is not having your act together when it’s impossible to have your act together completely, comprehensively, day in, day out. It is an unfair burden that we place on each other.
Comparison is a thief of joy. So, I say don’t compare. My life is amazing, but all I’ve got to do is think of Coldplay, and I mess myself up for the whole day because I’ll never have their life.
I think life is miserable enough without being miserable in it. Life is endlessly magical and endlessly infuriating. It’s just a balance, and you find your way through it, I believe. It’s really great to write a record that feels somewhat confessional, as to say, hey, this isn’t easy, but it’s so worth it. It’s so worth it.
AC: Years ago, you told me that you start writing songs on a bass. Is that still the case?
Get daily National news
Get the day’s top news, political, economic, and current affairs headlines, delivered to your inbox once a day.
GR: It can be. But with the advent of studios, I can also put some nice atmospheric keyboards. All these songs were different experiments in me and my studio, just seeing what could be interesting and what could be fun and how to entertain myself.
The last three records have all been super detuned. I was like, the old Bush is back, but no, it’s actually completely different music. And I think that across this record (I Beat Loneliness) there’s no wasted space.
AC: How was the Canadian tour?
GR: Incredible. I had to play Kelowna, Victoria…I have nothing to compare it to. The expanse of the land is just awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, amazing.
AC: The ’90s seem to be the decade that is immortal when it comes to music. People just cannot get enough of music from the 1990s. What do you attribute that to? It’s not just people who grew up at that time, but also Millennials and Gen Zs who are just discovering music today.
GR: The innocence, I suppose. The innocence of making music that was actually going to last through time. It was — as always, it had a sense of revolution to it. It was somewhat the music of complaints. Railing against authority, railing against people, standing up for your rights, the end of misogyny.
There was a time when I was really daunted. I never got Zeppelin. Musically, I love them, but the lyrics never got me. I was a young kid. They were the next generation. So I never related to them. So, I needed a role model, and the role models I had of the guitar music I liked, My Bloody Valentine, all a bit introverted and a bit shoegaze-y.
When I saw Jane’s Addiction, when I saw Soul Asylum in London, all this energy on stage, I was like, wow! All the Britpop bands, all trying to outshine each other, but no one was giving the performances that I connected to. It was a new culture, and things needed to shift.
It was like a revolution. Everybody heard all the music. The songs were played on MTV, and they played on the radio. And then people went to see you live. These three powerful entities created these huge records. It was all about that community.
Today is pure pop. That’s what is connecting with people in the masses. So, we — us ’90s bands — went underground.
AC: Do you ever go back to listen to those earlier albums and pass judgment on them?
GR: Yes! There are times when I think that I went on a bit too long and could have done with a little editing. At the same time, nothing is ever perfect.
AC: I hate to bring it up, but you’re going to be 60 in October. That’s a lot of experience as a human, as an artist.
GR: It sure is. I have to confront this. Biology always wins in the end. But I think this is a very creative time. I’m in a hurry to express myself and deal with my chaos. Songwriting is like a root canal of my emotions.
AC: Let’s talk about cooking and your show on Flavour network, Dinner with Gavin Rossdale. How did that come about?
GR: I always aspired to be on TV, but then I found it was hard to make TV. I thought about this cooking show before the advent of podcasts. I was tired of being a somewhat characterless musician beyond being in a band that was massive in the ’90s. I was also tired of touring and wanted to stay home more with my kids.
AC: Having someone into your home and cooking them a meal is a very intimate sort of thing. People will tell you things during a meal that they won’t tell you otherwise.
GR: I’ve always been attracted to food and cooking. Making a dish is very much in parallel to writing a song: tempo, spice level, the five flavours — the alchemy of it. I’m having a laugh and loving it.
AC: Do you have a signature dish?
GR: I don’t. I’ve always tried to stay away from a signature dish, but I suppose my English roasts are pretty fun. I can make really good pasta. My feeling is, “How can I treat you best?” I recently cooked some cauliflower in garlic-infused milk/cream, and then blitzed it, added salt and nutmeg, and it blew my mind. With a bay leaf in there, it’s just nuts.
I’ve been obsessed with miso — a chicken jus with sake instead of wine.
AC: How about baking or pastries?
GR: I love it. Lots of little cakes and pastries. I can make the best cheese Danish, meringues, ice cream, crème brûlée.
AC: What’s coming up for you?
GR: A North American tour, a European. And I have to start thinking about the next record. I have to ruminate on where I go from here.
This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
