Erik Heter has written a beautiful piece on Neil Peart over at Spirit of Cecilia.
There are drummers, and then there are really good drummers. And then there is Neil Peart. It’s almost fitting of Peart that his death was not announced until today, January 10th, three days after his actual death on January 7th. Whereas others did things in simple time and merely kept the beat, Peart’s timing – in drums and in life – was never conventional. Hence the announcement of his death not on the day he died, but three days later. The beats never fell quite where they were expected.
This is a fun one. Mike Portnoy’s latest collab finds him drumming with the Pan Rocks Steel Drum Orchestra on an instrumental cover of Rush’s classic “Spirit of Radio.” It pretty much sounds like Rush on a Caribbean vacation, and it is super fun. Check it out!
I will always remember the thrill of hearing the first track, “Show, Don’t Tell.”
Why thrilling? Well, because it sounded to my ears like a return to form, the form of the best Rush, the Rush of the classic Rush years (from 2112 to Moving Pictures).
Capsule reviews of what I’ve listened to since the last installment follow the jump. Albums are reviewed in descending order on my Personal Proggyness Perception (PPP) scale, scored from 0 to 10.
Daniel James’ Brass Camel honours progressive rock legends tonight, underneath the unreal visuals of the HR MacMillan Space Centre’s 360 degree Star Theatre: Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Genesis, Yes, Rush, and more!
Video from the rehearsals is viewable here and here.
The musical entity that is Rush is not an easy thing to define. Where many have foundered, there is no reason to assume that I will fare any better, except perhaps that I have access to the actual facts, and some inside information on the motivations. We have always done our utmost to elude any convenient classifications, in spite of those who must affix a label and assign a function to everything in sight, whether they really fit or not.
It may be that the only term loose enough to encompass anything of the concept of Rush, is simply “progressive rock”, for it is to this ideal of enjoyment, integrity, and freedom of expression that we have dedicated ourselves. Our music is aimed at the head, at the heart, and at the abdomen. We can only hope that it finds its mark in yours.
Rush’s 19th Studio Album. Six years old today. Art by Hugh Syme.
Today is the sixth anniversary of the release of the final Rush studio album, CLOCKWORK ANGELS. It can get “nun more” prog.
[This piece is dedicated to my great and brave friend, Steve Horwitz, fellow Rush-ian]
Rush’s nineteenth studio album, Clockwork Angels, came out on June 12, 2012. It was the first album to be distributed by heavy-metal label, Roadrunner, and the second to be produced by Nick Raskulinecz. As mentioned at this beginning of this book, the story of Clockwork Angelsis such an artistic success—as a story, a concert, a novel, a sequel to the novel, a graphic novel, an audio book, and a series of comic books—that it really overshadows not only the actual album but much of Rush’s other art. It is, of course, the culmination of forty years of care, of love, and of purpose. However much the Clockwork universe has dwarfed the album itself, it is very much worth considering the original source material.
Clockwork Angelscame out a full six years after Snakes and Arrows, a break between albums even greater than that between Test for Echoand Vapor Trails. Still, few worried as hints came out frequently about the forthcoming Rush album during that time, and Rush even released versions of the two opening songs as singles, performing them on the Time Machine Tourof 2011. As few would disagree, the wait for the final product was well worth it. While Moving Pictures—because of its time and place in history—might always remain the iconic Rush album, Clockwork Angelsis arguably the best, cohesive piece of art the band has ever made. It reveals a maturity in lyrics and music understandably absent in the first few Rush albums, but it also possesses every explosion of energy those albums expressed.
It would not be an exaggeration to argue that meeting Carrie Nuttall served as one of the most important moments in Peart’s life and in precipitating Rush 3.0. In her, Peart found a reason to live fully, a reason to rediscover excellence, and a reason to return to his life in Rush. It was through their mutual friend, Andrew McNaughton (now deceased), that the two met.
In those days, Andrew and I often talked on the phone from wherever I wandered, and shared our sorrows and anxieties. Typically, Andrew was determined to find a “match” for this crusty old widower. When my motorcycle had carried me back across the continent yet again, to pause in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Andrew sent me a few test Polaroids of a photo assistant he had been working with-a pretty dark-haired girl named Carrie. Again, I was reluctant, gruffly telling him, “not interested”—but finally I made my meandering way west again, and stopped for a while in Los Angeles.[i]
When she met Peart, she knew next to nothing about the band.[ii] She told him, however, that she would love to see him perform again, especially considering his reputation as a drummer and his own love of music. For Peart, all of this proved almost Faerie-like.
Andrew introduced me to Carrie, my real angel of redemption; in less than a month we were deeply in love, and in less than a year we were married in a fairy-tale wedding near Santa Barbara. Carrie: Beautiful, smart, cultivated, artistic, affectionate; Deep green eyes, long dark hair, radiant smile; Tall, slender, shapely, nicely put together; Half English, half Swedish, all American, all mine. The answer to a prayer I hadn’t dared to voice, or even dream. Carrie. Soulmate, a lover, a wife, a new journey to embark upon, the greatest adventure. [iii]
Though still in pain—a pain that would (and will) never fully cease—when he met her, he found her instantly attractive intellectually as well as personally. They bonded almost immediately in friendship. She considered him a modern-day Conquistador, armed in black leather and mounted on a powerful red horse, forever seeking the road and adventure. But, his days of restless exploration had come to an end, and the Ghost Rider faded into memory. On September 9, 2000, just three days short of his forty-eighth birthday, Peart married Nuttall in Montecito, California.[iv]
My 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.
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 . . . .
If you’ve had a chance to look at our blog roll, you’ll see a couple of Rush sites. In particular, I’d like to point out RUSHISABAND and POWERWINDOWS. Let me just be blunt–I think the world of these sites. I love the spirit they bring to the internet, and I deeply admire the men (Ed Stenger and Eric Hansen, respectively) who run each.
When we–Carl, Chris, and Kevin–founded progarchy back in 2012, I (Brad) really had three sites in mind to emulate: the Dutch Progressive Rock Page, Rush is a Band, and Power Windows.
Rush is a Band
Frankly, I wanted to do for Big Big Train what the latter two have done for Rush.
Daniel James’ Brass Camel honours progressive rock legends tonight, underneath the unreal visuals of the HR MacMillan Space Centre’s 360 degree Star Theatre: Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Genesis, Yes, Rush, and more!
Progarchy 