Gavin Rossdale

Say what you will, but it can't be easy being Gavin Rossdale. As the frontman of breakthrough '90s rockers Bush, his enigmatic lyrics and rich hooks took a backseat to his heartthrob looks. Then he falls in love, gets married, and overnight he becomes subjugated to significant other status, forever rendered "Gwen Stefani's husband." Well, hats off to Rossdale, because on Wanderlust, his first full-fledged solo album, he not only embraces his role as husband and father, but also explores his role as an artist. There are moments where the album's compelling array of heady hooks takes a backseat to flirtatious runs of lyrical syrup, but the album's split is so extreme, you have to assume it's deliberate. Ultimately, that's what makes it so compelling.

Early-on, the songs seem heavily influenced by finding a sense of self amidst the selflessness of family, a weighty subject that Rossdale tackles capably. As adept at embracing irony as he is masking reality, the lyrics offer a sense of direction, but not an obvious path, and are light and poppy enough to get lost within while expansive enough to explore for deeper meaning. "Frontline" and "Forever May You Run" are perfect for radio, the first chugging along with a modern rock sway befitting of Adult Top 40, while the latter–like lead single "Love Remains the Same"–a seeping ballad that drifts along with passive restraint. If there's a piece that doesn't fit, it is "Future World," which offers subtle nods to Sting in his more world-flavored solo daze, but does little to bridge the album's more reluctant first half with the heavier, Bush-flavored timbre of "If You're Not With Us You Are Against Us," "This Is Happiness" and "Another Night In The Hills." Back in 1994, Rossdale asked, "should I fly to Los Angeles, find my asshole brother?" Fourteen years later the search isn't for a sibling, it's for a sense of self. While everything on Wanderlust isn't zen, life rarely is, and it's in that realization that Gavin Rossdale has found his musical identity.

I—Paul Gargano
06.19.08

Scared that his celebrity couldn't sell Institute, his post-Bush post-grunge back-to-basics band, Gavin Rossdale retreated to his own name for his 2008 solo debut, WANDERlust, its very important capitalization unwittingly bringing to mind the spelling of DAUGHTRY, the band -- or perhaps it wasn't so unwitting, as on his own Rossdale pursues soft grunge designed to appeal to the broadest possible audience. It's the first time that Rossdale has so blatantly run for the traditional definition of the middle of the road (never mind that his Langer/Winstanley productions were the textbook definitions of crossover grunge), and he's happily embracing his role as Gwen Stefani's husband, writing songs about his contentedness as a family man. Rossdale does dredge up a bit of the old angst on occasion but this is a remarkably settled music -- a run at the middle by a musician who has spent his career as a star attempting to prove how hard he is, working with underground guru Steve Albini on Bush's second record and turning to Helmet guitarist Page Hamilton for Institute. All that Sturm und Drang and clatter and clang are forgotten here, as Rossdale restyles himself as a post-grunge Peter Cetera, crooning slick, smooth ballads, only dipping into his angry side toward the close of the album as he rants against L.A. and government in equal measure, in duet with Shirley Manson. It is no small irony that Gavin Rossdale sounds better in this setting than he does in his harder rock -- he's a better vocalist and more charismatic than most of the dullards who followed in his wake -- but this is still more concerned about appearances than hooks or drama. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide