Welcome to Blandville
If you’ve ever thought that what the world needs now isn’t love sweet love but instead another bland rock group that sound a bit like Nickleback, then rejoice for that time is upon us.
Musically The Rushing cobble together various grunge touch points, such as Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains, with just a dash of lighter waving, emotionally charged anthems a la Def Leppard. Which in itself isn’t so bad as a concept. It’s not a great one, but there are worse things out there. Like badgers.
Lyrically the foursome rehash so much clichéd “rock” guff that they get themselves tangled in all sorts of knots. One moment they’re “chasing after the sun/I’m not wishing my life away/it’s not crazy to me”, (which incidentally is a concern, as surely anyone who chases after the sun must be the kind of person who barks at the tide, and speaks to the wind?) the next they’re reverting to those well worn rock standards, calling for somebody to “help me/save me from myself.” Classic.
Eventually, however, the clichés get so muddled that before long they’re invoking some metaphysical debate on the nature of existence that would have surely left Descartes stumped, as on 'No Regrets', “everyone wants to be somebody/I just want to be me.” Can you be “me” and yet not “somebody”. My head hurts.
But again poor lyrics are not the biggest crime against rock, and is not the reason why this band will most likely disappear without a trace, it’s that for a rock band, who cite Led Zeppelin, Queens of the Stone Age, and the Smashing Pumpkins as influences, they don’t ever really rock-out. At no point does the tempo change form a slouchy mid-pace stomp, and crucially this leaves them without any sense of danger. They are bland personified.