{"id":39699,"date":"2006-03-30T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2006-03-30T00:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/reviews\/sixteen-stone\/"},"modified":"2006-03-30T00:00:00","modified_gmt":"2006-03-30T00:00:00","slug":"sixteen-stone","status":"publish","type":"review","link":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/reviews\/sixteen-stone\/","title":{"rendered":"Sixteen Stone"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n

Whoever said Stone Temple Pilots were copycat grunge
\nneeds to be shot. This<\/i> is copycat grunge, alternative by the
\nnumbers, whatever you want to call it. Bush was basically England’s
\ncontribution to the grunge movement, but while they got the sound
\nright, they missed the spirit.<\/p>\n

Nothing about Sixteen Stone<\/i> is original, and
\nonly about a third of it is worthwhile. Aside from the hits, the
\nrest of this is just riff-heavy sludge, meaningless lyrics and
\ndepressing predictability. Naturally, it’s all minor-chords,
\ndownbeats and depressing noise. At least Nirvana had a sense of
\nhumor.<\/p>\n

Things start well with “Everything Zen,” one heck of
\na hard rock trip with some good guitar leads. Had the rest of the
\nalbum been like this, it would have been elevated to at least Pearl
\nJam’s worse moments, but Bush is intent on being liked by all the
\nkids in school, darn it. “Swim” and “Bomb” are grunge-by-numbers;
\nsome heavy riffs here, some slow bass there, stop\/start dynamics
\neverywhere, staccato lyrics that stop after every third line
\n(sample: “I’m swimming to you \/ Flame on Earth desire…Fame is a
\nwhore”). That she is, and you guys would know.<\/p>\n

“Little Things” was another hit, but it’s a rewrite
\nof Nirvana’s “In Bloom” with none of that track’s melodicism or wry
\nlyrics. “Comedown” has an interesting bass riff, but it’s hard to
\nfeel anything at Gavin Rossdale’s whiny meaningless lyrics. Only
\n“Machinehead” offers something interesting, alternating a cool riff
\nwith some tasty power chords and Rossdale’s robotic-sounding
\nvocals\/lyrics, which make sense in the context.<\/p>\n

The main problem with the post-grungers like Bush and
\nCreed is that they tried too hard to be serious but didn’t have the
\nanger or chops to back it up, like the bands they try to emulate.
\nRossdale tries to be Kurt Cobain in many spots on the album,
\nsounding uncomfortably like him on “Testosterone,” which sounds
\njust like someone trying to write a Nirvana song circa In
\nUtero<\/i>.<\/p>\n

After 45 minutes of sludge, the disc lurches to a
\nconclusion with “Glycerine,” which does not belong here at all.
\nIt’s a slow ballad propelled by lush strings and Rossdale’s best
\nvocal performance (which isn’t saying much), but it works better
\nthan it should. This is followed by the forgettable “Alien” and a
\none-minute punk ditty called “X-Girlfriend,” with Rossdale aping
\nCobain repeating “You won’t call me when you’re down” over a fast
\nthree-chord approach. It’s the only humorous part of the disc and
\nends much too soon, but since it’s a Nirvana ripoff anyway, I don’t
\ncare.<\/p>\n

The bonus track is a slower take of “Comedown”
\nwithout drums or bass, and if you make it that far without falling
\nasleep, congratulations. Personally, I prefer my alternative with a
\nbit more emotion, a lot better songwriting and a heck of a lot more
\noriginality than Bush offers on this debut. Sadly, it’s the best
\ndisc in their canon.<\/p>\n

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