There’s only one thing worse than people thinking your band are a pile of pig excrement and that’s not having an opinion at all. Such is the problem that have plagued Bush throughout there seven year career. Everyone seems to think they’re ‘alright’ or they have the misconstrued preconception that they are simply Nirvana Clones when, in reality, they have released three very solid records that have more than the odd stroke of genius. Quite what’s gone wrong on ’Golden State’ then is simply anyone’s guess.

In 1999 Bush released their 3rd opus ‘The Science of Things’ and the London lads had seemingly mastered their sound with the addition of electronics and were on the very top of their game. But the record bombed and we're not talking subtle drops here we’re talking plummeting from selling over 10 million records to just over a million, seemingly overnight. So a return to the grunge sound of old must be on the cards then, right? Oh you couldn’t be more wrong.

‘Golden State’ is quite possibly Bush’s most adventurous release to date but subsequently it is also they’re worst. Proceedings start off on fire where they left off, ‘Solutions’ is a patient beast that roars with maximum impact on the arrival of the chorus and ‘The People That We Love’ is a typically Bush stadium rocker but from here on in, we’re talking free-fall. Quite when Bush turned into a band of such lethargic proportions, I’m not sure. To the public, they’ve always been binary Stadium-rock-by-numbers sorts but the likes of ‘Hurricane’ are surely taking the piss with us. To call the track bland would be like saying that Michael Jackson is a bit on the eccentric side. But it’s during ‘Fugitive’ when Gavin Rossdale feels the need to inform us he is ‘A Fugitive on the run’ that toes begin to curl and your head slowly nestles itself in your hands. From the fourth track to the very end of the record it seems as though you’re hearing the same track regimentally repeated (the track sounding like a dodgy Embrace B-side) like a doll at Christmas that feel the need to quote the same sentence over and over again and, quite frankly, it’s bloody irritating.

‘Golden State’ is in no uncertain terms, a lamb in preparation for the slaughter. Contrived of soul and as emotionally stimulating as a Geri Halliwell single, it’s just a shadow of a formerly great, if unspectacular, band. In future guys, If it ain’t broke...