Kitchener doesn’t always get nights like this. Not nights that feel scorched into the floor. Not nights that make you rethink what it means to hear songs you’ve lived with for decades, and have them spit back at you like they were written yesterday. Bush’s return to Canada made it feel like Toronto had been skipped for once, bringing a rare arena show to a city that doesn’t often get circled on the tour map.
Filter opened the night like a punch through glass. Richard Patrick came out swinging, loud, loose, and completely in command. He’s got this wild-eyed chaos to him that doesn’t feel like an act. By the second song, his stance was solid, gripping the mic stand like a lifeline, his focus locked in. At one point, he grabbed a fan’s phone, filmed himself, his bandmates and the roaring crowd , handed it back, and deadpanned, “How’s that for a video?”

And then, right before closing with the song that launched Filter into the bloodstream of alternative rock—“Hey Man Nice Shot”—Patrick told the crowd: “This one put us on the map.” It still hits like a hammer.
Rival Sons, easily the best-dressed band of the night, walked in like they’d stepped out of a Tarantino movie and sounded like thunder rolling off the Pacific. Jay Buchanan, effortlessly cool, impossibly good, doesn’t sing so much as testify. This band doesn’t chase trends. They burn through them. “Do Your Worst” nearly blew the roof off. “Face of Light” was a spiritual experience. Every note from Scott Holiday’s guitar dripped with danger and style.

And then: Bush.
There are artists who age. And then there are artists who sharpen. Gavin Rossdale has sharpened. The man walked on stage like a general returning to the battlefield, and from the first riff of “Everything Zen” the place erupted. The stage setup was bold, drums dead center on a high riser like a war altar, floor speakers pressed to the barricade so Gavin could step out and stare the front row in the face.

A dozen lucky fans who had side-stage VIP were brought up to share the spotlight during songs four through six. Can you imagine standing on stage with the band during “Greedy Fly”?
By mid-set, Gavin raised a small bottle of sake, toasted the crowd, and introduced a new track from their upcoming album I Beat Loneliness—“60 Ways to Forget People.” The song, with its heavy, elastic sound and introspective lyrics, captured the struggle of emotional isolation and the desperate push to move on. You could feel the weight of those sixty ways to fall apart, and in that moment, it was clear: Bush was crafting their future in real time.
Then came “Flowers on a Grave.” And what Gavin did next was beyond anything anyone expected. He left the stage, not to wave from the pit, not for a gimmicky aisle stroll, but to fully walk the entire venue. He weaved through the crowd, hugged strangers, climbed the stairs to the top of Section 8 like a pilgrim in a temple, and sang every word on the journey. It was real, emotional, and powerful—nothing like a typical show.
In the end, Bush didn’t just revisit their past, they reminded us why their music still matters. “Come Together” by The Beatles got the Bush treatment, gritty, slithering, powerful. Then came “Glycerine,” stripped down, spotlight tight, Gavin alone with his guitar. And finally, “Comedown,” one of their biggest hits, crashing down with everything it’s always carried. emotion, tension, release.
To witness a night like this, packed with iconic songs and standout performances from Rival Sons and Filter as well, felt like a gift. Kitchener isn’t always on the tour map, but on this leg of Loaded: The Greatest Hits Tour, it was. And for that, we were lucky.
A huge thanks to Joanne Setterington @indoorrecess.com for the accreditation.
Bush



















Rival Sons












Filter





I’m Drew, the founder and editor of Front of the Stage. I have a strong love for music and photography, which started at a very young age. There’s just something I love about experiencing live music and capturing memories that will last a lifetime, and that’s how Front of the Stage came to be.