Across the decades, there have been many contenders for the king of prog’s crown, from pioneers Robert Fripp and Keith Emerson to contemporary luminaries Mikael Åkerfeldt and Steven Wilson. But there’s only ever been one queen: Kate Bush.
To call her a precocious talent seems guilty of gross understatement – Bush wrote The Man With The Child In His Eyes when she was just 13. A cassette tape caught the ear of David Gilmour, who produced the 1975 demo that landed the singer-songwriter her record deal with EMI.
Bush’s progressive spirit has infused everything she’s done. She’s built a huge and devoted following across the world despite only ever undertaking a single tour, in 1979. She embraced the possibilities of sampling, not to lift melodic passages or riffs from other people’s songs, but to create sounds in her music that no one had ever heard before. She freely blended human drummers with drum machines, ignoring any thought of the two being mutually exclusive, always focused on capturing the right feel and sound to serve the music.
Her third album, Never For Ever, was the first record by a British female solo artist to top the UK albums chart. She might have been a pop smash, but that only seemed to impel her to become ever more adventurous, creating epic concept works in the seven-part The Ninth Wave on Hounds Of Love, and the nine-part A Sky Of Honey on Aerial.
She’s influenced generations of musicians and artists, a trend that seems set to gain momentum after new listeners have been introduced to her music through Stranger Things. In 2022 Prog asked 40 famous fans to pick their favourite tracks from her incredible catalogue.
Wuthering Heights (The Kick Inside, 1978)
Every year on the singer’s birthday, July 30, fans celebrate The Most Wuthering Heights Day Ever by recreating Bush’s dance routine in the iconic red dress from the music video. The song topped the charts in six countries with its gothic grandeur and sweeping drama.
Mikael Åkerfeld, Opeth: “She’s one of those magical artists – there’s not a lot of them, not of that calibre. She’s top of the pile. Everybody knows it. She was running her own thing [when] nobody else did it. She carved out her own niche in the pop scene: Wuthering Heights, what a fucking genius song. How can you write a song like that? It’s in, what, 7/4? It’s a sing-along pop song, and you don’t even notice the turn on the drums. Running Up That Hill is a beautiful fucking song, too. I get shivers just thinking about it. She’s untouchable.”
The Saxophone Song (The Kick Inside, 1978)
Damian Wilson: “Her beautiful freedom within melody and the sensuality of her work simply captured me. The uplifting bursts still never cease to remind me of the excitement I felt when I first heard it. The song has clearly been written by a young, naïve mind. The whole album is a girl waking up to womanhood. It’s callow youth mixed with accomplished musicianship, and beautifully captured.
“Her career is an example of the record industry getting behind youthful creativity and encouraging a raw emerging talent to produce something truly exceptional.”
The Man With The Child In His Eyes (The Kick Inside, 1978)
Steve Hogarth, Marillion: “I’m all about the lyrics, of course, and whenever I hear this song, I think of my dear departed dad tucking me in when I was small. He was in the Navy and away a lot, so it was always special when he was home to wish me goodnight with his soft, haunted eyes. I sometimes play it when I’m doing the solo H Natural shows. I love the way the chords fall tone-by-tone on the way to the chorus, like sinking out of consciousness into dreams.
“I was introduced to her once at an EMI lunch. ‘Steve, Kate; Kate, Steve.’ She was very nice – hair up, jeans on. Ten minutes after she’d gone, the penny dropped – ‘Fuck me! That was Kate Bush!’ I’d have probably said something I regretted anyway. I’m easily starstruck.”
Symphony In Blue (Lionheart, 1978)
Conrad Keely, …And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead: “The lyrics suggested an inquisitive mind describing the effects of synaesthesia, where colours evoke moods and sounds: ‘Blue, the colour of my room and my mood.’ Not to mention the ever-present erotic undertones Kate always managed to sneak in. ‘The more I think about sex the better it gets,’ kind of jumps out after a stanza about jealousy and death. At the same time, she always manages to allude to greater divine questions: ‘Go blowing my mind on God’ – the sort of vision-questing that would eventually culminate in songs like Running Up That Hill.
“Her lyrics paint a picture of someone who’s forever searching for an answer, rather than someone who’s found the answer and is trying to preach it to you. For that reason, she seems to encourage us to ask similar big questions: is there any practical reason to believe in a god? Are art and death, love and hatred, rejection and jealousy all inseparable aspects of the same universal experience? And can we just enjoy sex and stop being hung up about it?”
Wow (Lionheart, 1978)
‘We’re all alone on the stage tonight,’ sings Bush in her musings on the highs and lows of a life in showbusiness, as an actor dreaming of stardom endures ignominy and being used for sex, cheekily implied in the lyric about ‘hitting the Vaseline’.
Robin Armstrong, Cosmograf: “It’s super-proggy in terms of theme and modulation yet somehow manages to stick to a pop record structure. It’s a masterclass of concise epics. The lyrics are so poignant, and to me they speak of a tortured artist, underappreciated, and forced to live up to expectations as an entertainer.
“I think she’s one of the most underrated piano players ever. I’m always drawn in by her beautiful chord structures and motifs. She just has a way of laying down this beautiful carpet of piano for her vocals.”
Oh England My Lionheart (Lionheart, 1978)
It’s tempting to dismiss this as an exercise in rose-tinted nostalgia, with its references to Shakespeare and ravens in the Tower Of London, but that was evidently the goal. “Everything I do is very English and I think that’s one reason I’ve broken through to a lot of countries,” Bush told Melody Maker in 1978. “The English vibe is very appealing.”
Gregory Spawton, Big Big Train: “The song is a sort of requiem for an England which, in the late 70s, had already disappeared – or, perhaps, had never really existed. The nostalgic imagery of the lyrics is emphasised by a soundscape of harpsichord and recorders. Most importantly though, the poignancy of the final few words of the song’s protagonist [seemingly a downed and dying Second World War fighter pilot] is utterly heart-breaking: ‘Oh England my lionheart, I don’t want to go.’”
In The Warm Room (Lionheart, 1978)
In The Warm Room finds Bush at her most seductive. ‘You’ll fall into her like a pillow, her thighs are soft as marshmallows,’ she coos. Who on earth could resist?
Tim Bowness: “I was 14 when I first heard the album and, despite the lyrics being elusive and enigmatic, there was something in the unique harmonies and emotive singing that spoke directly to me. I’ve always felt that her music chimes with an adolescent state of confusion – or becoming. I used to play Lionheart frequently, while in the background parental arguments raged. As a result, it became something personally meaningful to me.
“It’s my favourite song on one of my favourite KB albums. In The Warm Room is perhaps the most intimate and intense piece on Lionheart, and it perfectly embodies the album’s queasy emotional quality.”
Hammer Horror (Lionheart, 1978)
While the title brings to mind the famed British film studio, this is the unhappy tale of an actor haunted by the ghost of the man he replaced in the role of The Hunchback Of Notre Dame.
Clive Nolan, Arena: “It wasn’t the song that grabbed me first on this album, but as I listened more, it grew on me. As those scrubbing strings lead into the piano intro, followed by the plaintive vocal, it’s clear this song will be a journey in itself. As with all Kate Bush’s work, it’s wonderfully quirky, with so many flavours and atmospheres within this single track. The verses are moody and evocative and there is a lovely sense of vulnerability about the vocal delivery. The chorus is to the point, and I love that detuning gong at the end.”
Babooshka (Never For Ever, 1980)
The breaking glass sounds in the track were a pioneering use of sampling with a Fairlight CMI synthesiser. The effect was created by Bush, co-producer Jon Kelly and Fairlight programmer John Walters smashing things in the studio; then Walters fed the sounds into the Fairlight, making them playable.
Cammie Berverly, Oceans Of Slumber: “When I first heard Babooshka, I immediately recognised Kate Bush’s tremendous influence on the music world. I could see how she’d inspired musicians like FKA Twigs, Tori Amos and even Björk. It was an eye-opening experience and inspiring, as an artist, to see a woman’s authentic, free-willed and uninhibited success celebrated.
“Kate Bush is a trailblazer. Her music infuses elements of synth, performance art and unwavering ambition. She was doing it all: writing, producing and performing her own work. On top of that, she has such a commanding, powerful and passionate voice. She gives it her all, which is evident in everything she does.”
The Infant Kiss (Never For Ever, 1980)
This haunting track was inspired by the 1961 film The Innocents, based on Henry James’ The Turn Of The Screw, about a governess who suspects her charges may be possessed. The young boy flirts with the governess as Bush sings, ‘What is this? An infant kiss that sends my body tingling?’
Alice Lowe: “Kate Bush is such a consummate storyteller; her songs draw you in and take you on an emotional journey. The vulnerability is just astonishing, something about the glass tone of her voice and the unashamed femininity. The subject matter certainly had me fascinated, even scandalised – it’s one of her most controversial songs because many thought the lyrics were about paedophilia. But even as a child I was struck by how she was one of the few artists singing about children, childbirth, a child’s perspective, a mother’s perspective.”
Army Dreamers (Never For Ever, 1980)
Bush’s first two albums were rich in romance and literary references, but with Army Dreamers she began to tackle political subjects with an anti-war message about a mother mourning her soldier son.
Eivør Pálsdóttir: “I was in my teenage years when I first heard this song and it moved me in so many ways. What makes it very special are the big contrasts, I guess: the sad and tragic lyrics about a mother who grieves for her son against the waltzy and playful arrangement. This combination creates some extra depth and dimension to it and makes the whole picture very powerful.”
Breathing (Never For Ever, 1980)
A startling reaction to the prospect of nuclear war, told from the perspective of an unborn baby that doesn’t want to leave the safety of the womb to face the horrors of the world outside.
Marjana Semkina, Iamthemorning: “It’s heartachingly beautiful, fragile and dark at the same time, which is a juxtaposition I very much appreciate and always try to achieve in my music. The subject of the song is especially dark and resonates with me in the light of the political events of the past months, since it’s a song about a foetus experiencing the world outside during the nuclear fallout.
“Kate Bush calls us to turn to the most basic of all human needs: breathing – no matter how bad things get, you need to breathe. The studio version also features some spoken word about what a flash from a nuclear bomb looks like, and listening to it now has a very strange effect on me; it’s almost too scary to keep listening. But it’s also absolutely beautiful how the song shifts from being ominous and dark to light and hopeful, telling us that not all is lost yet, as long as you only keep breathing.”
December Will Be Magic Again (UK single, 1980)
This seasonal tune made its debut in December 1979 when she performed it on Kate, her BBC Christmas special.
That Joe Payne: “Like much of Kate’s stuff from that era, it’s a real fusion of classical and contemporary and I just adore the lyrics: ‘Jumping down in my parachute; the white city, she is so beautiful/Upon the black-soot icicled roofs, see how I fall, like the snow…’
“Wow, what imagery! She was already a huge influence on me way before hearing this song, but I have to say that it’s the theatrical sensibilities that always draw me in. She sets a great example to anyone who wonders where the line is between art and entertainment and reminds me that there’s nothing wrong with aspiring to both.”
Sat In Your Lap (The Dreaming, 1982)
Bush started writing Sat In Your Lap after seeing Stevie Wonder at Wembley, coming away from his show inspired by the sheer energy of his performance. The track gallops along thanks to Preston Heyman’s thunderous drumming and Bush’s daredevil vocal acrobatics.
Jem Godfrey, Frost*: “I’d never really heard anything like this before. It didn’t hurt, either, that the video for the song was of Kate being chased by blokes dressed as centaurs and everyone’s on roller skates, naturally!
“Although I didn’t know it, this was one of the very early appearances of sampling in popular music via the Fairlight CMI, which was programmed by JJ Jeczalik, later of The Art Of Noise, and played by Geoff Downes. The world really hadn’t heard these kinds of sounds before. Sat In Your Lap was actually some ground-breaking stuff.”
Pull Out The Pin (The Dreaming, 1982)
Written from the perspective of a Viet Cong soldier, Pull Out The Pin was inspired by a documentary about the Vietnam War, with lyrics referencing the country’s silver Buddha pendants, worn for good luck.
Jon Ivar Kollbotn, Major Parkinson: “The first time I heard the song was
in a small-town record store in the mid-90s. There I was, in a dark listening booth, stepping into this ethereal psychosis filled to the brim with poetic imagery. It totally blew my mind. My initial impression of the song was the overshadowing murkiness and unpredictability of the song structure. The unconventional use of instruments felt like trying to penetrate a thick jungle in a dark humid night.
“The lyrics were so unconventional, and in this case, she plays the part of a Viet Cong soldier hunting for Americans. She’s pulling out a pin from a hand grenade as she chokes on a silver Buddha. The lack of spirit among the American troops, the waste of human life. Still relevant to this day.”
Suspended In Gaffa (The Dreaming, 1982)
Ripe with religious imagery, Suspended In Gaffa concerns struggling for personal fulfilment. ‘I want it all,’ sings Bush, reaching for her dreams.
Rosalie Cunningham: “It wasn’t until I got into my 20s that I began to appreciate the talent and artistry behind this strange music. I found The Dreaming to be her most mesmerising piece of work, not knowing its reputation as her most ‘underrated’ album, and became addicted to Suspended In Gaffa, which seemed designed for my ears. I’m a sucker for a baroque wonky waltz! The relentless metre of the verses is something I can detect the influence of in my own writing style, and the lyrical theme of glimpsing the divine is something I flirt with regularly.”
The Dreaming (The Dreaming, 1982)
Lynsey Ward, Exploring Birdsong: “The Dreaming is so special because it is so important. This song is about how large areas of traditional land belonging to Aboriginal Australians were destroyed. You, the listener, are confronted by the direct result of British colonialism, and the attempted erasure of native culture.
“One thing that stands out is the use of an orchestral hit sample. Kate Bush is a pioneer in implementing sampling technology into pop music, so it’s always a pleasure to hear what came out of her experimentation with this groundbreaking songwriting tool. Using traditional Australian musical instruments and animal sounds really immerse you into the song; you hang on her every word.”
All The Love (The Dreaming, 1982)
This musing on loneliness and isolation was partly inspired by a faulty answerphone that cut short messages to leave family and friends just saying goodbye – snippets that appear in the outro.
Jakko Jakszyk, King Crimson: “It’s a creative milestone and turning point both for her and anyone listening to it. Kate Bush had taken control and run with it. It was sonically amazing, the instrumentation and arranging totally unique.
“Her voice is experimenting with the dynamics of drama. Soft, close-mic’d and intimate one moment, screaming and shouting the next. She’s acting her way through this and ending with a collage of answerphone messages which is strangely emotional.”
Houdini (The Dreaming, 1982)
Catherine Anne Davies, The Anchoress: “Kate has spoken about how ‘emotionally demanding’ Houdini was to write. It really manages to capture that beautiful and strange relationship of Houdini and his wife. It’s like a small novel, unwrapped over the course of a single song. I find it so beautiful and epic in its range and depth, trying to convey that relationship from beyond the grave.
“Her voice stands out for me in terms of its emotional and tonal range: to go from the fragile tenderness of the verses, really conveying the emotion of the story she’s stepping into, and then the utter power of that almost death metal scream/cry in her voice: ‘With your spit still on my lip, you hit the water.’ Just devastating. The way that the fretless bass interweaves with her top line in verse two is stunning. I’m obsessed with the whole arrangement. It’s just perfection.”
Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
A hit three times: first in 1985, as a remix in 2012 – played during the closing ceremony of the 2012 Olympic Games in London – before hitting No.1 in the UK in 2022 after it was featured in Netflix’s Stranger Things.
John Mitchell, Lonely Robot, Kino, Frost*: “You’d be hard pushed to find a more memorable chorus top line, or indeed lyric, than in this song. It’s almost a perfect and yet odd pop song. The verse-vocal phrasing is quite odd in measure but the dynamic shift when the chorus hits is a perfect rush. The breathy nature of the chords in the background also makes for a strange etherealness, which you don’t hear in much contemporary music. The lyrical theme is about swapping gender roles after ‘making a deal with God’, which is pretty forward thinking for the time.
“She inhabits a small world to my mind, one only occupied by very few. Peter Gabriel, Tears For Fears and Neil Hannon also live there. It’s called Planet Genius.”
Under The Ivy (1985)
Troy Donockley, Nightwish: “This song was the B-side to the single Running Up That Hill but wasn’t on the album Hounds Of Love, which I adored. As it was new to me, I selected it on a jukebox one rainy afternoon in Leeds. The sound of the outside world faded and I was entranced – I fed all my money in for repeat plays.
“It’s mysterious but at the same time very clear. It evokes shadowy romantic Pre-Raphaelite visions in me. I think it’s the most erotic song I’ve ever heard; a perfect, beautiful deep eroticism which, of course, isn’t explicit. It’s just Kate singing and playing piano with some perfectly placed minimal backing voices. It’s this simplicity with an extraordinarily emotional performance which raises it to my favourite Kate song of all time. And I’ve got loads.”
Hounds Of Love (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
This warning on the dangers of love opens in menacing form with a line of dialogue from the 1957 film Night Of The Demon: ‘It’s in the trees! It’s coming!’ Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Sharon Den Adel, Within Temptation: “This song is my favourite vocally because Kate did things that no one had done before. It was out-of-the-ordinary, and that’s one of the key reasons that so many people fell in love with her music and her voice. And her stage presence of course, with the way she danced, was a new thing that people didn’t see much. She was free, very expressive in her movements.”
Mother Stands For Comfort (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
A dark song about a mother protecting her son no matter what – even after he’s committed murder.
Gavin Harrison: “The atmosphere of this piece is extraordinary: it takes you into a dark cupboard and down a long secret tunnel inside Kate’s subconscious thoughts. The Fairlight conjures up instruments that don’t exist: rhythmic broken glass, icy whistling flute playing haunting melodies.
“The duet between Kate’s voice and Eberhard Weber’s electric double bass is the definition of sheer beauty itself. His bass lines feel like you’re sliding into a bath of warm oil, maybe the only real comfort in the song. Like Houdini from her previous album, they entwine each other completely.
“Kate’s eerie vocal ad libs during the later part of the song reflect the madman, the murderer, the special relationship between mother and [son] and the chilling temperature of the production. A song I’m too afraid to listen to in the dark. I can’t think of many artists that have touched me so deeply as Kate. She is a national treasure.”
Cloudbusting (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
Cloudbusting was inspired by Peter Reich’s memoir A Book Of Dreams, which explored his relationship with his father, the writer and psychologist Wilhelm Reich, who built a machine that he claimed could create clouds and rain.
Alice Freya, Last Flight To Pluto: “We were travelling home from a gig in our van. Daz, our drummer, was always the designated driver, so he used to get the first pick on what song was played, and he chose Cloudbusting. When I got home, I watched the music video and the song instantly got cooler. Anyone sticking one up to the government gets a thumbs-up from me. I was so happy at the end of the video, when the machine worked and it started raining.
“The lyrics tell the story from Peter’s point of view, the pain he felt losing his father and the feeling of helplessness that he couldn’t protect him. The sadness of it all shook me. It made me find a new respect for Kate Bush’s songwriting. I realised that she wrote stories, not just senseless lyrics, which is something that I try to do myself.”
And Dream Of Sheep (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
Side two of Hounds Of Love is devoted to The Ninth Wave, a seven-part suite about someone lost at sea, struggling to stay awake but knowing that to fall asleep means succumbing to the waves. And Dream Of Sheep is the first movement: the line ‘Come here with me now’ is spoken by Bush’s mother. When Bush had bad dreams as a child, her mother would invite her to climb into the parental bed with those words and her nightmares would melt away.
Bjørn Riis, Airbag: “It’s the simplicity of it and her honest lyrics that make And Dream Of Sheep stand out for me]. It’s very intimate and a great opening to the otherwise dramatic suite.
“Artists that believe in what they do and stick with it no matter what are very inspiring to me. Also, her unique way of blending piano and analogue instruments with electronics and new technology, especially in the 80s and on Hounds Of Love.”
Under Ice (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
Anna Phoebe: “I think what struck me was the theatrical operatic nature: the lead lyric and then these ghostly chanting backing vocals, together with that ominous string riff. You’re automatically captured and thrust into this dark parallel universe of Kate Bush. The whole album – the exploration of dreams and this parallel universe where you see yourself split between reality and this dream freak world – is just so utterly compelling.
“Kate is a true pioneer and artist, in a world where women especially were moulded by the industry and the men around them. It feels like she had such a clear vision of her artistry.”
Watching You Without Me (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
The drowning protagonist sees their loved one at home, waiting for them to return, seemingly in vain.
Susanna Wallumrød: “The sound of Kate Bush’s voice is so special: angelic and fierce, a totally unique tone. Her performances are always interesting. I like Watching You Watching Me, the soft feel of it, the way she sings; in some parts it’s hard to understand the lyrics. It reflects the dreamlike universe of her music, which to me is vivid and floating.
“I’m so lucky to have heard her live as well, being on the first row at her first performance in 35 years at the Hammersmith Apollo [in London]. That was wild. She is a true pioneer, and I hope she will keep inspiring new generations like she has with me. Her inheritance is immense.”
Jig Of Life (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
Hayley McDonnell, A Formal Horse: “I felt drawn to Jig Of Life as soon as I heard the fiddles and pipes in the intro. It resonated with my Irish Celtic roots. I like how this song works within the album as a whole and the continuation of the main storyline. Jig Of Life is about the protagonist’s future self giving them hope and strength to keep going, to survive and be able to live their life when struggling, lost at sea, fighting for breath.
“Her voice is so unique. I love her range and vibrato, which has influenced me in my singing with A Formal Horse. Listening back to Hounds Of Love and this song in particular inspired me to want to write something with a storyline that progresses like this.”
Hello Earth (Hounds Of Love, 1985)
A lullaby for the planet, looking down on Earth from high above.
Lucy Chevchuck, Square Wild: “I saw her, and still do see her, as a fairy-like creature, not quite of this Earth, in the best way possible. There was a magic, ethereal essence about Kate Bush that had me entranced and still does to this day. In Hello Earth, the ebbs and flows and dynamics pull and push you into different feelings and thoughts dependent on the line being sung or part of the song.
“You’re on a journey listening to Hello Earth, floating with the sine waves. The song is said to be about someone drowning at sea and it’s incredible that Kate Bush has managed to convey that scene using not many words at all. The addition of Gregorian voices in the background, chanting as though it’s a funeral, is stunningly creative and dark.
“Her music feeds something inside me that not a lot of other music does. I’m forever thankful for having an idol that is so unapologetically herself, which is a skill I think so many of us could do with harnessing.”
The Sensual World (The Sensual World, 1989)
Another dive into the literary world, this time drawing upon James Joyce’s Ulysses – wherein the character Molly Bloom describes her first sexual experience.
Louise Patricia Crane: “My teenage years had almost ended; I was venturing into early womanhood when I first heard Kate’s breathy ‘Mmm, yes…’ And at that moment I was bewitched. Stepping into the shoes of Ulysses’ Molly Bloom, Kate delivers an interpretation of her soliloquy and, musically, conjures the perfect imagery as she’s suddenly made flesh, with all the pleasures of the world at her feet.
“There’s a quiet confidence in Kate’s soft, intimate vocal delivery throughout, remaining constant and controlled, beginning to end. An iron fist in a velvet glove; she knows well the power she wields.
“The Sensual World gave me liberty with my own songwriting, to explore my own sense of femininity and romanticism for my heritage, and the legends within it.”
Deeper Understanding (The Sensual World, 1989)
A prescient musical thesis on the replacement of human connections with technological ones.
Arjen Lucassen: “The Sensual World is my favourite Kate Bush album. It’s very sensual! It has her best compositions and I love the warm sound. I love the way she tells mini stories with her songs, especially in this track. The intense relationship between people and their computers resulting in less contact between humans themselves has always intrigued me.
“She sings lower than usual, making it more intimate and mysterious, almost like she’s forcing us to listen to her words. She has influenced me immensely. Inspired by this song, I wrote Don’t Switch Me Off on my second solo album, Lost In The New Real. Yes, about a love affair between a person and a computer.”
This Woman’s Work (The Sensual World, 1989)
Written for the soundtrack for John Hughes’ film She’s Having A Baby, this song addresses the fear of complications during pregnancy.
Ms Amy Birks: “This song moved me to tears. I’m also drawn to the honesty of the lyrics. You know quite quickly that it’s about love and longing, dread, and regret, all the powerful stuff, but it never fully explains itself either, so it keeps you wanting more. ‘Give me that little kiss/Give me your hand.’ It’s simple, personal, full of empathy and extremely sensitive and the last line is almost child-like, ‘Just make it go away,’ making it super-vulnerable. Beautiful.
“The performance is pure Kate – raw and honest, pure brilliance – and it just shows you what is achievable when you use the voice as a second instrument.”
Rubberband Girl (The Red Shoes, 1993)
Talking to Mojo, Bush described Rubberband Girl as “just a silly pop song, really” and it’s among her most upbeat, catchy tunes.
Christina Booth, Magenta: “She was seen as a ‘serious’ artist and I thought this song showed that she had a fun side and didn’t always take herself too seriously. I loved the lyrics and the message I got at the time was that to survive the music industry you had to be resilient and be able to stretch yourself creatively and bounce back from whatever is thrown at you.
“I love how she uses her voice as an instrument. She gave me the confidence to experiment with my own voice and realise that you don’t have to sing ‘words’ – you could just make ‘noises’. She is unique and will always have a place in my heart as a true musical pioneer.”
Moments Of Pleasure (The Red Shoes, 1993)
Heather Findlay: “With our tendency, as part of the human condition, to either dwell on the past and all the could-have-beens, or waste time worrying about the future and its infinite array of what-ifs, this song is a great reminder to simply be present. To invest in those we love and ‘those who will survive’. What that line means to me is that thing we do as writers, to immortalise those we love and have lost in song, poetry and art.
“Mostly Autumn were playing the Town Hall in New York in 2003 and I remember Angela Gordon and myself fervently willing it to snow while staying in our top-floor Fifth Avenue hotel room, so that we could authentically sing: ‘The buildings of New York, look just like mountains through the snow…’ And in that, we too made a little moment of our own to remember.”
You’re The One (The Red Shoes, 1993)
Anneke Van Giersbergen: “Kate’s lyrics are usually very poetic and sometimes mystical, but this song is so down-to-earth: ‘I’m okay and will move on’ – but suddenly she gets really honest and confesses that she just misses her big love. That contradiction always gets me.
“The song has a long outro solo by Jeff Beck, which is breathtakingly beautiful. There’s a lot going on vocally. There’s this beautiful contrast both musically and lyrically between the verses – descriptive and practical – and the choruses, which are so very emotional and desperate.
“I love that Kate is so involved with every aspect of her music. Also, she doesn’t seem to care about fame or success, but wants to create on her own terms. She has taught me the importance of integrity and being honest as an artist.”
A Coral Room (Aerial, 2005)
This tribute to Bush’s mother is sparsely arranged for piano and voice; achingly beautiful.
Chrissy Mostyn, The Blackheart Orchestra: “As someone who’s a little obsessed with time and all it takes away, the image of us all being captured in time’s web sings to a deep primal part of me, even more so since losing my own mum.
“The song creates such a strong visual in my mind. I interpret the boat as the present and the water as our past – we can dive in at any time and re-experience all that happened there; even just tracing our fingers on the surface can call up the feeling that nothing really leaves, rather just continues like echoes under the surface.
“When I was a kid, Kate was the first artist that ever made me cry with her music. I wasn’t old enough to really understand the subject matter, but it hit me anyway, so she taught me the immense emotional power of music.”
Prelude (Aerial, 2005)
Jo Quail: “I remember as a child hearing this particular birdsong over and over in my nana’s garden. Prelude immediately takes me back to the soft haze of childhood summers. I remember being curious why the pigeons would sometimes add an extra beat to their call, and when I heard Prelude the first thing that struck me after the initial beauty and grace of the song was how Kate Bush had ‘moved the one’ – the second syllable of the birdsong became the first beat of the bar in the sequence. I’d always heard it the other way, with the first bird syllable being the first beat.
“It sounds pretty innocuous, but this ‘beat moving’ became an ingrained part of what I do now, how I write and perform. With a loop station, one of the ways I create development and movement within a piece is to move the primary beat around, and Prelude was one of those sea-change moments, albeit one that took a few years to mature for me!”
Nocturn (Aerial, 2005)
Robert Reed: “What I love about this track is the confidence to use just four chords
and make an amazing track that lasts just under nine minutes. The groove is just hypnotic and the chords are to die for. Bass player John Giblin and drummer Peter Erskine are flawless. The vocal sound is so dry and reserved, but they build, and show off the trademark multitracked chant vocals that Kate does so well.
“When you think it can’t get better it just keeps delivering musical surprises and ear candy. I was lucky enough to see this live when Kate did her London residency in 2014. It was the best concert I’ve ever seen.”
Snowflake (50 Words For Snow, 2011)
Wintry vibes suffuse Bush’s last studio album, where the stripped-down arrangements foreground the piano, bass and session legend Steve Gadd’s drums.
Leah Rasmussen, Goldray: “I remember hearing Snowflake on Brighton beach watching the waves glisten through the sunlight. It brought tears to my eyes at a time I think I needed a little cry. I didn’t know that it was Kate’s son Bertie who sang all the higher register parts. It’s a song of purity, innocence and inner reflection.
“The intertwining of her voice and her son’s only adds to that sense of you’re not in a normal place. Bertie’s gorgeous high notes and then the slightly pitchy lower register voice only add to that slight feeling of Alice In Wonderland: ‘Am I in the right place, and who is this? Where am I? This is not a place I know.’ Simply stunning.”
Among Angels (50 Words For Snow, 2011)
Stephen W Tayler: “I heard it for the first time when I was mixing the album with Kate. The mood, simplicity, intimacy and emotion hit me right there and then. It’s such a profound and evocative song and such a stunning performance.
“When I was invited to become the ‘Kate Vocal Navigator’ for the Before The Dawn live shows, we spent months preparing with the crew and the band. Every day at lunchtime, when the rehearsal stage was empty, Kate would come and practise a few songs at the piano with just me in the room, controlling her sound. One song she rehearsed every day was Among Angels. I was almost in tears every time she performed it. I was controlling her vocal live which was nerve-racking as it became a real struggle to concentrate. I was overwhelmed with emotion every time. You could hear a pin drop in the theatre.
“I’ve heard Among Angels too many times to count – yet I still feel the same emotions whenever I hear it, as if for the very first time.”
