You Can Do a Lot in a Lifetime, If You Don’t Burn Out Too Fast – Rush, April 23, 2013 at the Frank Erwin Center, Austin, Texas

ImageJust one week after a long-overdue induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Rush opened the second leg of their ‘Clockwork Angels’ tour – and fortunately for myself and thousands of other Texans, they did it right here in Austin.

For long-time Rush fans, a Rush concert is more than just an event where we see musicians performing their catalog in a live setting.  For us, it is something that gets into us the way dye gets into a shirt and alters its color; something that affects each of us right down to the molecular level.  This show certainly did that for me, more for reasons I will get into below.

The steampunk aesthetic of the stage setup was spectacular.  It was refreshing to see a big visual presentation to accompany the music, which is a rare thing these days.  In contrast to the 70’s, when progressive rock was bigger and had more backing by the record companies, most contemporary prog shows are played in smaller venues without the type of visuals as were present in some of the gargantuan shows of that earlier time (think ‘Yes’ on the ‘Relayer’ tour).  Rush is the rare band from that era that can still play large venues with a corresponding stage set and light show that turns the presentation into more of an event than just a live music performance.

After a long break from the road, the band seemed rested, recharged, and ready to go.  Some of Rush’s typically humorous opening video greeted the audience when the lights went down, featuring the band’s trademarked slightly bizarre humor.  The concert proper then opened with a rousing version of ‘Subdivisions’, followed a number of 80’s works.  In the first set, they did three songs from ‘Power Windows’, including ‘The Big Money’, ‘Grand Designs’, and ‘Territories’, while also managing to squeeze in ‘Limelight’, ‘Force Ten’, and ‘The Analog Kid’.  After the latter tune, the band moved into the 90’s with ‘Bravado’ and ‘Where’s My Thing’ and then into the 00’s with ‘Far Cry’, which closed out the first set.

After a short break, the band returned to the stage, this time with eight additional musicians collectively known as ‘The Clockwork Angels String Ensemble’.  This tour has been the first in which Rush has brought extra musicians on stage, and they were used to good effect here.  The string ensemble filled in some spaces while enhancing others, remaining on stage throughout the performance of ‘Clockwork Angels’ and for several songs afterwards, including a blistering performance of ‘YYZ’, which is captured through a smartphone (not mine) here.

Beginning with another entertaining bizarro-humor video (with Neil, Alex, and Geddy playing dwarfs) the second half of the show kicked off with ‘Caravan’, and followed through with most of the songs from ‘Clockwork Angels’.  Regrettably missing from that list was ‘BU2B’ and ‘Wish Them Well’, the latter being a favorite of mine not only for the music but for the life lesson within the lyrics.  A guitar snafu during ‘The Anarchist’ was a minor hiccup that left Geddy alone without melodic accompaniment for a moment, but Alex and his guitar tech had the presence of mind to quickly swap out instruments.  The performance of ‘Clockwork Angels’ concluded with a spectacular performance of ‘The Garden’, the visuals of video working great with the music here.

After concluding ‘Clockwork Angels’, the band went back into the 80’s again, with ‘Manhattan Project’, a short drum solo, ‘Red Sector A’, and ‘YYZ’.  The string ensemble exited the stage and the band closed out the set with ‘The Spirit of Radio’.  The band returned for an encore including ‘Tom Sawyer’ and ‘2112’ (‘Overture’, ‘The Temples of Syrinx’, and ‘Grand Finale’) before calling it a night for good.

I don’t have much to critique for the show, but I do have to say that the soundman could have done a better job with the mix.  It was very bass-heavy, and this caused a bit of muffling of notes, particularly on a few of Alex’s guitar solos.  But overall, that wasn’t enough to dampen the experience, which was still overwhelmingly positive.

All in all, an outstanding show, played with the energy and intensity that belied their age.

ImageAfterward, according to their Facebook page, Neil, Alex, and Geddy got in touch with their inner cavemen by devouring some Texas barbeque, as shown in the photo.  At this point of the review, you’ll have to excuse me while I go off on a tangent, but there is something in that photo that I think I need to address with the band members.  Geddy, Alex, Neil – I’m glad you enjoyed your barbeque during your most recent visit to the Republic of Texas.  The ribs and brisket are hard to beat.  However, I have to say I am a little disturbed in looking at some of the bottles on the table.  You three are Canadian boys, and therefore have Canadian genes – which means like other great Canadians, such as Bob and Doug McKenzie, you are drinkers of hearty beer.  Thus, seeing several bottles of Corona on the table gives me pause.  Corona is more or less a summertime beer – I could give you a pass on this if the gig was an outdoor gig during the sweltering months of July or August.  But last night was an unseasonably cool April night, and thus I just cannot understand the Corona.  Even more disturbing is what appears to be a bottle of Bud Light on the table.  Perhaps one of you reached for a water bottle and didn’t notice the difference?  Now, in fairness, toward the upper right corner, it does appear that some redemption is present, as I am about 90% confident that’s a bottle of Shiner Blonde.  I’ve compared the portion of the label I can see in the picture to an actual bottle of the same in my refrigerator, and the lack of a bar code on my bottle appears to be the only difference.  I’ll do more research of the label tomorrow night as I watch the NFL draft – just to be sure, you know.  Nevertheless, Shiner Blonde is a beer befitting of your Canadian DNA, guys, so I would recommend you use that to wash down your next Texas barbeque dinner.  Ok, tangent over.

This Rush concert was special in a way that says something both about Rush and their fans alike.  Not only was this my fifth Rush show, but it was the fifth different decade in which I had seen them.  Previously I had seen them in 1979 (Rupp Arena, Lexington, KY, Hemispheres tour), 1984 (Hampton Coliseum, Hampton VA, Grace Under Pressure tour), 1990 (Charlotte Coliseum, Charlotte, NC, Presto tour) and 2007 (Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, San Antonio, TX, Snakes and Arrows tour).  The 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and 00’s. Now I can add the 10’s.  I’m comfortable in saying that I’m not alone among the Rush fan base, and in fact know there are fans that have seen many, many more shows than I have, and moreover, within the same five decades.  There are not many bands out there that one can say the same about.  There are even fewer (if any bands) that one can say that about while also saying that it was with the same lineup each time.  That’s a testimony to their longevity, as well as to the loyalty of the fans that have stuck with them all of these years.  As many of you will recognize, the title of this piece is drawn from the lyrics of ‘Marathon’ off of the ‘Power Windows’ album.  And those words, written by their philosopher-drummer nearly 30 years ago, appear to be even more true now than when that album was released.  Rush, despite some serious ups and downs, has persevered and continued to make great music far beyond the time when most bands lose their creative edge.  And fans like myself and countless others, we’ve lived our lives and had our own ups and downs for all of these years, and yet we kept coming back, keep buying the albums, and keep going to the concerts because we appreciate the excellence, the professionalism, the creativity, and the wisdom inherent in the lyrics. That neither Rush nor their fans have burned out, that both have shown the endurance to stick with one another throughout the decades only proves the wisdom of the lyrics from which this review draws its title.

Thanks, guys.  Not just for last night’s show. But for everything over all of these years.

Wind-blown Notes: Rush and Grace Under Pressure

graceunderpressure-cover-sMy favorite Rush album has been, at least going back to April 1984, Grace Under Pressure.  I realize that among Rush fans and among prog fans, this might serve as a contentious choice.  My praise of GUP is not in any way meant to denigrate any other Rush albums.  Frankly, I love them all.  Rush has offered us an outrageous wealth of blessings, and I won’t even pretend objectivity.

I love Rush.  I love Grace Under Pressure.

extrait_rush-grace-under-pressure-tour-1984_0

I still remember opening Grace Under Pressure for the first time.  Gently knifing the cellophane so as not to crease the cardboard, slowly pulling out the vinyl wrapped in a paper sleeve, the hues of gray, pink, blue, and granite and that egg caught in a vicegrip, the distinctive smell of a brand new album. . . . the crackle as the needle hit . . . .

I was sixteen.

From the opening wind-blown notes, sound effects, and men, I was hooked, completely.  I had loved Moving Pictures and Signals–each giving me great comfort personally, perhaps even saving my life during some pretty horrific junior high and early high school moments.

But this Grace Under Pressure.  This was something else.

If Moving Pictures and Signals taught me to be myself and pursue excellence, Grace Under Pressure taught me that once I knew myself, I had the high duty to go into the world and fight for what’s good and right, no matter the cost.  At sixteen, I desperately needed to believe that, and I thank God that Peart provided that lesson.  There are so many other lessons a young energetic boy could have picked up from the rather fragile culture of the time and the incredibly dysfunctional home in which I was raised.  With Grace Under Pressure, though, I was certainly ready to follow Peart into Hell and back for the right cause.  Peart certainly became one of the most foundational influences on my life, along with other authors I was reading at the time, such as Orwell and Bradbury.

Though I’m sure that Peart did not intend for the album to have any kind of overriding story such as the first sides of  2112 or Hemispheres had told, GUP holds together as a concept album brilliantly.

The opening calls to us: beware!  Wake up!  Shake off your slumbers!  The world is near its doom.

Or so it seems.

Geddy’s voice, strong with anxiety, begins: “An ill wind comes arising. . .”  In the pressures of chaos, Pearts suggests, we so easily see the world fall apart, ourselves not only caught in the maelstrom, but possibly aggravating it.  “Red Alert” ends with possibly the most desperate cry of the Old Testament: “Absalom, Absalom!”  Certainly, there is no hope merely in the self.  Again, so it seems.

The second song, gut wrenching to the extreme, deals with the loss of a person, his imprint is all that remains after bodily removed from this existence.  Yet, despite the topic, there is more hope in this song than in the first.  Despite loss, memory allows life to continue, to “feel the way you would.”  I had recently lost my maternal grandfather–the finest man  I ever knew–before first hearing this album.  His image will always be my “Afterimage.”

It seems, though, that more than one have died.  The third song takes us to the inside of a prison camp.  Whether a Holocaust camp or a Gulag, it’s unclear.  Frankly, it’s probably not important if the owners of the camp are Communists or Fascists.  Either way, those inside are most likely doomed.  Not only had I been reading lots of dystopian literature in 1984 (appropriate, I suppose, given the date), but I was reading everything I could find by and about Solzhenitzyn.  This made the Gulag even more real and more terrifying.

Just when the brooding might become unbearable, the three men of Rush seem to offer a Gothic, not quite hellish, smile as the fourth song, “The Enemy Within” begins.  Part One of “Fear,” the fourth track offers a psychological insight into the paranoia of a person.  Perhaps we should first look at our own problems before we place them whole cloth upon the world.

Pick needle up, turn album over, clean with dust sponge, and drop needle. . . .

Funk.  Sci-fi funk emerges after the needle has crackled and founds its groove.  A robot has escaped, perhaps yearning for or even having attained sentience.  I could never count how many hours of conversation these lyrics prompted, as Kevin McCormick and I discussed the nature of free will.  It’s the stuff of Philip K. Dick, the liberal arts, and the best of theology.

More bass funk for track six and a return to psychological introspection, “Kid Gloves.”  But, we move out quickly into the larger world again with the seventh track, “Red Lenses,” taking the listener back to the themes of paranoia.  When the man emerges for action, will he do so in reaction to the personal pain he has experienced, or will he do so with an objective truth set to enliven the common good?

grace_under_pressure_0In the end, this is the choice for those who do not lose themselves to the cathode rays.  Is man fighting for what should be or he is reacting merely to what has happened, “to live between a rock and a hardplace.”

Unlike the previous albums which end with narrative certainty, Grace Under Pressure leaves the listener with more questions than it does answers, though tellingly it harkens to Hemingway and to T.S. Eliot.

Given the album as a whole, one might take this as Stoic resignation–merely accepting the flaws of the world.  “Can you spare another war?  Another waste land?”

Wheels can take you around

Wheels can cut you down. . . .

We’ve all got to try and fill the void.

But, this doesn’t fit Peart.  We all know whatever blows life has dealt Peart, he has stood back up, practiced twenty times harder, and read 20 more books.  That man does not go down for long.  And, neither should we.

In the spring of 1987, much to my surprise, one of my humanities professors allowed me to write on the ideas of Peart.  I can no longer find that essay (swallowed up and now painfully lonely on some primitive MacPlus harddrive or 3.5 floppy disk most likely rotting in a landfill in central Kansas), but it was the kind of writing and thinking that opened up whole new worlds to me.  My only quotes were from “Grace Under Pressure,” drawing a distinction between nature of the liberal arts and the loss of humanity through the mechanizing of the human person.  It dealt, understandably, with environmental and cultural degradation, the dangers of conformist thinking, and the brutal inhumanity of ideologies.  It was probably the smartest thing I’d written up to that point in my life, and even my professor liked it.

Of course, the ideas were all Peart’s, and I once again fondly imagined him as that really great older brother–the one who knows what an annoying pain I am, but who sees promise in me anyway, giving me just enough space to find my own way.

I’m forty five, and I still want Neil to be my older brother.

RUSH: A Farewell to Hemispheres, Part I

by Kevin McCormick

Rush appears to be a band without a retirement plan.  This past year saw the release of the highly acclaimed studio album Clockwork Angels, the subsequent world tour promoting the album and the fourth remastered re-release of the 35-year old classic album 2112.   With the re-release of that epic work and the renewed attention it has garnered, it is worth noting that the recording and the subsequent live shows were really, as the liner notes say, “The end of the beginning, a milestone to mark the close of chapter one in the annals of Rush.”

From Rushvault.
From Rushvault.

Neil Peart hardly could have known how accurate that statement would be.  Today the band is approaching its 40th year since its first full-length album.  Most artists of their age lucky enough to be still performing spend most of their time coasting on the tails of decades-old hits and playing as shadows of their former glory.  Rush seems to continually push itself into new territory creating an ever-changing sound yet with ever constant sensibility.  Something about Rush feels contemporary but remains rooted in the sound of three guys from Toronto four decades past.

Rock artists worked more quickly back then. By 1976, a banner year for Rush, the band had produced four studio albums.  Having resurrected themselves from the brink of extinction (or at least from being dropped by their label) with the inexplicable popularity of their futuristic totalitarian opera “2112,” the band toured extensively throughout the US and Canada.  Their “brief” stretch promoting the new album ran from February to August and included opening for Blue Oyster Cult and Aerosmith.  Somehow the band found time to put together a double-live album of those recent shows and, with but a week in-between, again headed out on the road from August and into the new year promoting that record, All the World’s a Stage. By the time they wrapped up in England in June of 1977, Rush had been touring for nearly two years without a lengthy break and receiving accolades not only for their recorded work but for the power, skill and intensity they brought to the stage.

Continue reading “RUSH: A Farewell to Hemispheres, Part I”

The Best 15 Albums of 2012, The Greatest Year in Prog. Ever.

IMG_3725by Brad Birzer, Progarchy editor

One of my greatest pleasures of 2012–and there have been many–has been listening to massive quantities of progressive rock, mostly for pleasure.

Being a literary and humanities guy, I’d contemplated rejecting the entire numerical ranking scheme.  Rather, I thought about labeling each of my best albums with various qualities of myth.  These albums achieved the level of Virgil; these of Dante; these of Tolkien, etc.  But, I finally decided this was way too pretentious . . . even for me.

Below are my rankings for the year.  Anyone who knows me will not be surprised by any of these choices.  I’m not exactly subtle in what I like and dislike.  Before listing them, though, I must state three things.

First, I loved all of these albums, or I wouldn’t be listing them here.  That is, once you’ve made it to Valhalla or Olympus, why bother with too many distinctions.  The differences between my appreciation of number 8 and number 2, for example, are marginal at best.

Second, I am intentionally leaving a couple of releases out of the rankings: releases from Echolyn, The Enid, Minstrel’s Ghost, Galahad, and Kompendium, in particular, as I simply did not have time to digest them.  Though, from what I’ve heard, I like each very much.

Third, I think that 2012 has proven to be the single greatest year in prog history.  DPRP’s Brian Watson has argued that we’re in the “third wave of prog.”  He might very well be right.  But, I don’t think we’ve ever surpassed the sheer quality of albums released this year.  This is not to belittle anything that has come before.  Quite the contrary.  I am, after all, a historian by profession and training.  The past is always prologue.  Close to the Edge, Selling England by the Pound, and  Spirit of Eden will always be the great markers of the past.

Ok, be quiet, Brad.  On with the rankings.

Continue reading “The Best 15 Albums of 2012, The Greatest Year in Prog. Ever.”