Rush wrote the soundtrack to my teenage years. Not angst driven dirges or uplifting pop, Rush was something else, something different. Future and fantasy and folklore meets big drums, guitars and synthesizers. Music for nerds. Of which, I was and still am. From fifteen until my late twenties, their music gave me an escape. An entire album side that tells the story of a Orwellian society without music - and then someone finds a guitar in the year 2112?! Yes, please count me in. Modern day warrior with a mean, mean stride living in the sprawling fringes of the city in geometric order? I wanted to be that guy.
Admittedly, I grew away from Rush's later work but loved their 40th anniversary concert videos. I watched their documentary. Their Rock n Roll Hall of Fame induction - especially Alex's speech - was great to watch and well over due. A band that is self aware and not afraid to make fun of themselves or be reflective is a great band. And then Neil was gone and all we had were the memories.
Then.
Last year the two surviving members announced that they found a drummer and were going to tour. At first, it seemed like blasphemy and a slap in the face of their friend. A money grab. Who was this drummer anyway? What washed up band did he come from? How on earth did he think he could fill Neil's shoes?!
And the Rush faithful paused. What is this? Who is this?! Maybe we should hold our judgement for a beat or two.
Rush, the Fifty-something Tour. Tickets went on sale and my best friend since 10th grade got a pair. In Denver. Although we talk almost every week (and we talked about THIS), I hadn't seen Pat O'Brien in while, aside from a quick visit last year, and this was a perfect excuse to go see him.
There was already video footage of Anika playing. The news was already out that she was not Neil Peart. She was Anika Nilles, and she was a force to be reckoned with. And then it hit me, I am going to see Rush twenty-five plus years since I last saw them. Rush, the only band I would fly two-thirds across the country and go into a crowded arena for. Rush, live on stage with me in the audience. It was a strange wave of emotions. Hope. Happiness. Giddy excitement. Pat and I joined the throngs of over fifty year old men in the Ball Arena in anticipation.
The band did not disappoint at all. They opened with a song that hadn't been played live in over forty years and it rocked. They paid tribute to their fallen friend and we felt the shared loss. They rocked the songs that we all love. They took a break and came back to play the entire album, Moving Pictures, and half a dozen other songs in the second set before their encore. Hearing songs that I have only heard on record, cassette, or CD live, for the first time reminded me that studio recordings are only the foundation for live shows. Anika might be young, but the boys are no spring chickens. Still they rocked it. We all rocked it. Sure, we sat for most of the show, but know your limitations!
In the 1980s and 1990's, my teen and young adult years, music was a common thread between people. Yes, there was MTV, but the spirit of the radio bound us. last week, the music and Pat's friendship resonated and filled me and carried me through an amazing night.
For the words of the prophet were written on the studio walls. Concert hall!
