Bush walked onto the stage at Mohegan Sun Arena in December 2025 with the confidence of a band that knows exactly who they are and why people still show up in big numbers to see them. This wasn’t a nostalgia cash-in or a greatest-hits-only victory lap. It felt like a band fully comfortable straddling the past and present, leaning hard into the songs that made them arena staples in the ’90s while proudly showcasing the newer material that proves they’re still creatively alive.
From the opening notes of “Everything Zen,” the tone was set immediately. That familiar, jagged riff hit the crowd like a jolt of electricity, and suddenly the arena was alive. Gavin Rossdale still commands attention the moment he steps into the spotlight. His voice, remarkably intact after decades on the road, cut through the mix with clarity and grit. The crowd roared every word, turning the opener into an instant communal sing-along. It felt less like a warm-up and more like a declaration: Bush was here to deliver.
“Blood River” followed, bringing a darker, heavier energy. The song’s brooding intensity worked perfectly in the live setting, showing how well the band’s newer material holds up alongside their classics. The lighting shifted into deep reds and shadows, giving the track a cinematic feel that pulled the audience deeper into the show. Without missing a beat, Bush launched into “Machinehead,” and that’s when the night really exploded. The floor section surged, fists went up, and the chorus echoed through the arena with undeniable force. Few songs capture the raw spirit of ’90s alternative rock quite like this one, and hearing it live was a reminder of why it remains such a monster.
The early run of songs kept the energy high while subtly expanding the emotional palette. “The Land of Milk and Honey” and “Greedy Fly” followed, both sounding massive and muscular. Rossdale prowled the stage, feeding off the crowd’s energy, while the band locked into a tight groove that felt powerful but never overproduced. There’s a rawness to Bush’s live sound that gives their music weight, even decades after those songs first hit the airwaves.
“Quicksand” and “I Am Here to Save Your Life” brought a slightly more introspective tone, but the momentum never dipped. These songs highlighted the band’s ability to balance aggression with melody, something that has always set Bush apart from many of their grunge-era peers. Rossdale’s delivery was emotionally charged, especially on “Scars,” which landed with surprising impact. The crowd responded with a mix of loud cheers and quiet absorption, fully engaged with every lyric.
One of the night’s most unexpected moments came with Bush’s cover of The Beatles’ “Come Together.” It could have felt out of place, but instead it worked beautifully. The band stripped the song down just enough, giving it a darker, heavier edge that fit their aesthetic while still respecting the original. Rossdale’s vocal interpretation was restrained but effective, and the crowd seemed pleasantly surprised, responding with enthusiastic applause as the song came to a close.
The mood shifted dramatically when Rossdale took the stage alone for “Glycerine.” With just his voice and guitar, the arena suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. Thousands of fans sang along, their voices blending into a massive, emotional chorus. It was one of those moments where time seems to stand still, and the weight of the song’s legacy hit hard. Rossdale let the crowd carry much of the vocal load, smiling as he listened, clearly aware of how much the song still means to people.
The band returned to the stage for a powerful stretch of songs that showcased Bush’s modern era. “Heavy Is the Ocean,” “I Beat Loneliness,” and “Flowers on a Grave” all sounded strong and confident, proving that Bush isn’t just coasting on past glories. These songs carried a sense of urgency and relevance, tackling themes of isolation, resilience, and emotional survival. Live, they felt muscular and fully realized, earning genuine reactions from the crowd rather than polite applause.
As the main set came to a close, the energy in the arena was buzzing. The crowd knew an encore was coming, and they weren’t disappointed. Rossdale returned solo once again for “Swallowed,” delivering a stripped-down version that emphasized the song’s haunting melody and introspective lyrics. It was a bold choice to start the encore quietly, but it paid off, drawing the audience in and setting the stage for the final surge of energy.
“More Than Machines” brought the band back in full force, its heavy riffs and driving rhythm reigniting the crowd. It felt like a bridge between Bush’s past and present, a song that comfortably lives alongside their ’90s classics while speaking to modern anxieties. Then came the closer everyone was waiting for: “Comedown.” From the first notes, the arena erupted. The song unfolded like a victory lap, with Rossdale moving across the stage, engaging every corner of the venue. The chorus hit hard, and the final moments felt euphoric, the crowd singing at full volume as the band powered through the closing notes.
Visually, the show was polished but not overdone. The lighting design enhanced the mood of each song without distracting from the performance. Subtle video backdrops and carefully timed lighting cues added atmosphere, but the focus remained firmly on the band. There were no gimmicks, no unnecessary theatrics—just a solid, confident rock show.
Musically, Bush sounded tight and energized. The rhythm section provided a solid backbone, the guitars were thick and dynamic, and Rossdale’s vocals were consistently strong throughout the night. His stage presence remains one of the band’s greatest assets. He’s charismatic without being overbearing, engaging without feeling scripted. He knows how to work a crowd, but more importantly, he knows when to let the songs speak for themselves.
What made this show stand out was its balance. Bush didn’t rely solely on nostalgia, nor did they overwhelm the set with new material. Instead, they crafted a setlist that honored their legacy while showcasing their continued evolution. For longtime fans, it was a reminder of why these songs mattered in the first place. For newer listeners, it was proof that Bush is still a relevant, vital force in modern rock.
By the time the lights came up and the crowd began to filter out, there was a sense of satisfaction in the air. This wasn’t just a good concert—it was a reaffirmation of Bush’s place in rock history and their ability to still deliver a powerful live experience. Decades into their career, they’re not chasing trends or trying to reinvent themselves for the sake of it. They’re simply doing what they do best: playing loud, emotional, honest rock music.
Bush at Mohegan Sun Arena was a reminder that some bands age not by fading away, but by deepening their sound and sharpening their identity. It was a night filled with massive choruses, quiet emotional moments, and the kind of connection between band and audience that only comes from years of shared history. For anyone in attendance, it was a show that hit hard, felt genuine, and left no doubt that Bush still belongs on big stages.
Setlist:
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Everything Zen
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Blood River
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Machinehead
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The Land of Milk and Honey
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Greedy Fly
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Quicksand
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I Am Here to Save Your Life
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Scars
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Come Together (The Beatles cover)
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Glycerine (Gavin solo)
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Heavy Is the Ocean
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I Beat Loneliness
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Flowers on a Grave
Encore:
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Swallowed (Gavin solo)
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More Than Machines
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Comedown
It was the kind of night that reminded everyone why live rock still matters—and why Bush, all these years later, still delivers.