Words and Photos by Desirea Corbett
Picture this: it’s 1997, and a young teen has just come home from her very first concert, smelling like incense and wearing her favorite Delia’s catalogue outfit. She saw her favorite band, Bush, and cried during the song “Glycerine.” It was a transformative and unforgettable moment that cemented a lifelong love of live music. Nearly three decades later, she’s come full circle, now armed with a camera and still carrying that sense of awe for a band that helped shape it all.
The night opened with James and the Cold Gun, who were anything but cold. Their set was full of movement and momentum, both guitarists whipping their long hair around as they tore through their high-energy set and fully warmed up the audience. Their stage presence was magnetic.
Mammoth followed, bringing a surge of modern rock intensity. Their set was nothing short of Jaw dropping, driven by remarkable technical precision and some of the most impressive guitar work of the night. Each member showcased a level of musicianship that felt almost effortless but incredibly powerful.
By the time Bush emerged, the energy in the room was surging. The band made a dramatic entrance, beginning with drummer Nik Hughes perched atop an elevated drum kit, at least four feet above the stage. Flashing lights pulsed in sync with a thunderous rhythmic intro before the rest of the band joined him, launching right into their hit, “Machine head,” which got the crowd immediately revved up… even those with camera in hand could not help but sing along.
What followed was a carefully balanced set that wove together the band’s most iconic songs with newer material, never losing momentum. Gavin Rossdale proved himself to be something close to superhuman — moving across the stage with relentless energy for the full 90-minute set, never slowing or letting the intensity drop. If anything, he feels more electric now than ever. One fan was overheard commenting that he seemed younger than he did in the 90’s.
The crowd was not chaotic in the sense that there was no mosh pit or crowd surfing, but there didn’t need to be. There was a steady, collective energy with fans singing along, swaying, and fully locked into the moment. There were a few standout characters and some minor security incidents but nothing pulled focus from the connection between the band and the audience as a whole.
Midway through the set, Rossdale took that connection even further during “Flowers on a Grave,” weaving through the crowd and making his way to the back of the venue shaking hands, hugging and dancing with fans along the way. All the while he was singing, never missing a lyric. It felt unscripted, personal, and completely in line with the kind of performer he’s always been.
Later, the energy softened with a stripped-down version of “Swallowed.” Sparkling spot lights floated across the room as Rossdale stood alone with his guitar for the first half of the song, creating a beautiful moment that felt like a quiet exhale in the middle of an otherwise high-octane set.
The encore brought “Glycerine” and with it, a wave of emotion that seemed to flow through the entire room. Just Rossdale, his guitar, and a crowd singing every word back to him with their phones raised and their eyes glistening with tears. It was intimate in a way that felt almost surreal for a venue this size.
Closing with “Comedown,” Bush left the audience riding a high that was truly impossible to come back down from. After last nights’ set, it was undeniable that this band has not dimmed with time. If anything, they’ve sharpened and have become even more electric than they were in the 90’s. Somewhere in that crowd is that same wide-eyed teen from 1997, still holding onto the feeling she couldn’t quite name back then. Only now, she can see both through the camera lens and through the weight of her memory that the best Rock bands don’t fade with time. They just get louder.
Loudspeaker Collective 