Rush 50

Working Men: Rush In America

David Fricke

It was not the American concert debut that dreams are made of. On May 18th, 1974, a young Canadian hard-rock trio with a simple, forceful name, Rush, performed across the border for the first time - at the Northside Drive-In, an outdoor movie theater in Lansing, Michigan. The gig was a five-hour ride from the band's native Toronto, not including the usual circus of U.S. customs and immigration, and Rush - singer-bassist Geddy Lee, guitarist Alex Lifeson and drummer John Rutsey - were in the middle of a seven-act one-day festival that was doomed before showtime: The headliner, the New Orleans voodoo-funk singer Dr. John, cancelled at the last minute, replaced by the manic East Coast glam of the New York Dolls.

Rush were packing songs from their new, self-titled LP, just out in Canada - a club-hardened bonfire of power-blues riffing and progressive-rock bravado, iced with Lee's neo-falsetto wail. They might as well have stayed home. "Controversial Rock Concert Not Even Mini-Woodstock," a local newspaper snored, devoting its report to drug overdoses, police surveillance and the dire attendance, less than half the size of the drive-in's parking lot. The writer did not mention any bands by name, only that they "writhed and wailed in appropriate doses."

Lee still has his backstage pass. "A really odd show," the bassist recalls now. "We drove across the border, played and drove back." The promoter took a bath at the box office. "Rock concerts are dying out," he lamented in that news story. "They'll be dead in a year or two."

Rush did not get that memo. Six weeks after the Michigan fiasco and engagements at Ontario hot spots such as Larry's Hideaway and the Rockpile at Duffy's Tavern, Lee, Lifeson and Rutsey were back in the U.S. for their true American premiere: a "special guests" slot on June 28th at the Allen Theatre in Cleveland, Ohio between a band from Hungary, Locomotive GT, and another power trio, ZZ Top. "We were so nervous," Lifeson says. "But we got a good response' although "nobody knew who we were."

Rush, in fact, were a phenomenon in Cleveland, thanks to one well-placed fan's leap of faith. Shortly after Rush was released in Canada - financed by the band and issued on its own Moon Records because no major label there could be bothered - a friend in the local office of A&M mailed copies to radio programmers across the country and in the States where the LP landed on the desk of Donna Halper, the music director at Cleveland's FM powerhouse WMMS. She put Rush on the air, the station going heavy on the closing seven-minute storm "Working Man." In his 2023 memoir, My Effin' Life, Lee wrote that the song was "inspired by observations made whilst playing all those shitty bars around Ontario ... I was singing about anyone, really, who worked hard." It was also, he noted, about "wanting more from life than just that."

Cleveland was an exciting taste. The show, booked in the wake of Halper's support and strong import sales of Rush, "was quite an education," Lee says. "We had never opened for a big band before. I don't recall if we even got a soundcheck." But Halper and the WMMS staff "were all buzzing around us, making us feel special."

Lifeson remembers "being so blown away, my eyes wide open" during Rush's set. "We could have done an encore, but ZZ Top wouldn't have it," Lee points out. The house lights went up after the last note.

But Rush were in America for real. And they weren't leaving.

50 is, like the number says, a half-century celebration of Rush's music and history with a specific ground zero: the day in late July, 1974 that drummer and lyricist Neil Peart joined the band, replacing Rutsey and forming the crucial three with Lee and Lifeson that defined Rush's touring and studio lifetime. There is at least one song from each of Rush's 19 studio albums, many in unique live performances. And this collection goes deeper with rare, important recordings from vital crossroads with Rutsey - among them both sides of Rush's first 45, out of print since its release in 1973 - all the way to the bittersweet end with Peart: the last ten minutes of Rush's final show on August 1st, 2015 at the Forum in Los Angeles. Fate left no chance for a reunion. On January 7th, 2020, Peart died after a long, private battle with brain cancer.

What follows here is that adventure and friendship in tighter, riveting microcosm: Rush's first, eight years in America, an odyssey in itself that spanned clubs, dancehalls and arenas; cross-country drives in cars, vans and tour buses: and the band's absolute refusal, despite tough, often hurtful reviews and a lot of tin ears at radio, to compromise across the bedrock albums, from Rush to 1981's Moving Pictures, that made Rush one of the most fiercely-loved bands in rock.

My own ride with Rush, as a journalist, is in there too. I saw my first Rush concert on December 16th, 1976 at the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago after interviewing the opening act, Cheap Trick, for a weekly paper in my hometown, Philadelphia. There were multiple flights to Canada and road trips to interview Rush for the rock magazine Circus and a few days in the winter of 1979 when I went out with the band as a roadie, working with the crew and documenting life on the other side of the lights. And I was on a Canadian leg of the Moving Pictures tour for the group's first, major story in Rolling Stone, just before Rush's headlining debut at the most famous arena in the world, New York's Madison Square Garden, on May 18th, 1981 - exactly seven years from that day at the Michigan drive-in.

"At our heaviest, we were touring seven months of the year and recording two months," Lee told me of Rush's early grind from the back seat of a Mercedes, Peart at the steering wheel, as we drove from a show at the Montreal Forum - recorded for the 1981 live, double album, Exit...Stage Left - to the next date in Ottawa. "It was hard," the bassist went on, "but we felt we had to do that because we weren't getting exposure any other way. Besides, we enjoyed playing - and what better way to learn your craft - to refine what you're doing than to do it?"

"We always think of the ideal Rush fan," Peart added, reflecting on the audiences that supported and encouraged the band - and steadily grew at each show. "When I'm writing lyrics or when I'm playing onstage, this ideal fan is watching every move I make to see if I make a mistake or if something is not as good as it should be. You just can't escape that judgement."

Beginnings are relative, depending on when you walk into the story. For many of the faithful, the door was 2112, Rush's fourth album: a creative breakthrough in multi-part composition and narrative over the title side-long suite; and an actual hit. Released in March, 1976, the LP was the band's first to get inside the Top 100 of Billboard's pop album chart, selling over half a million copies by November, 1977. "When Rush fans found that record," Lifeson says, "we became that band where people went 'That's my band. No one loves them like I do.'"

Rush, by then, were Lee and Lifeson's mission for almost a decade - since they were teenagers in high school, sharing metal-shop class and bonding over Cream albums. Born Gary Lee Weinrib, the son of immigrant Jews who escaped the Holocaust, the bassist was playing in another band when Lifeson - born Aleksander Zivojinovic, one of four children, to Serbian-immigrant parents - founded Rush with Rutsey and another bassist, Jeff Jones, in the summer of 1968.

Their first gig was a youth center in a Toronto church that September. The next week, Rush were back at the church with Lee on bass because Jones couldn't make it. Lee, Lifeson and Rutsey would play more than 250 shows together before the drummer left, by mutual agreement, after a concert in London, Ontario on July 25th, 1974, opening for KISS.

Consider this: The Beatles spent seven years getting from Liverpool, England - the July afternoon in 1957 when Paul McCartney saw John Lennon playing with his band, the Quarrymen - to America in February, 1964. Rush did it in six, making it official with the U.S. release of Rush by Mercury Records on August 10th, 1974. "When we got that deal," Lifeson says, it was a dream come true" - driven by the breakout sales in Cleveland and an important advocate in Cliff Burnstein, now a legendary veteran in artist management, then an instinctive, passionate ear at the label working in album promotion. According to Lifeson, Rush's contract was for five albums, two a year. "But we were young and playing in a band. If we could do five records in three years with touring, that was a remarkable accomplishment."

The most immediate issue, Lee claims, "was getting this new guy indoctrinated and doing our first tour." On July 29th, four days after the KISS show with Rutsey, Peart joined Rush and the new lineup went into a blitz of rehearsals. At that point, the band only saw the future "in short steps," Lee says, "being able to play regularly, getting on a bill with artists playing big venues. We couldn't see much beyond that."

"Obviously, you dream of making records and one day headlining around the world," he continues. But there was no way, in the summer of '74, that "we could even think that we could do this for 40 years."

 

"Rush had their official, industry debut last Tuesday evening at the Piccadilly Tube in Toronto," a city paper reported, covering a record-release affair on August 21st, 1973 for the band's first slice of wax, a Moon Records 45 with a cover of Buddy Holly's "Not Fade Away' on one side and a Lee-Rutsey original, "You Can't Fight It" on the flip. "The joint was full and jumping to some of the best rock to ever come out of this town." The writer promised that "an album by the trio will be released in early September. The single manages to capture the excitement that they can whip up in a live performance, and I have no doubt the album will do the same."

There was no album that fall. After the initial recordings for Rush, produced by the band, songs were discarded, others recut and more tunes added after British-born engineer Terry Brown "came to save the album," as Lee puts it, in a second round of sessions at Brown's studio, Toronto Sound. Rush were so unhappy with the single that neither side had a prayer at getting on the LP. The reissue at the front of 50 is the first time that 45 has seen authorized daylight since the 1973 pressing.

Actually, "unhappy" is putting it gently. "My God, we hated it," Lifeson exclaims. "Not Fade Away" was nothing like "who we were or what we wanted to be. Even when we were playing in bars, 70 percent of our material was original."

Rush had "a much bigger, rockin' sound," Lee contends. "When that record was finished" - sounding flat, dry, and definitely not loud enough - "we were crestfallen."

Retrospect helps. You can hear the bones of how Rush attacked what they considered a Rolling Stones hit ("Not Fade Away" was that band's second Canadian single in 1964) when it was a popular rave-up in their club sets alongside heavy-rock treatments of David Bowie's "Suffragette City" and "Bad Boy," a 1958 R&B nugget by Larry Williams cribbed from the Beatles' cover. "You Can't Fight It" suffered from Rush's lack of experience in the studio, but the parts and intent - hard rock with a British-blues flair plus Lifeson's first soloing fireworks on record - showed up with more assured muscle on Rush in "Finding My Way" and "In the Mood."

A pair of artifacts from May, 1974 - raw, robust versions of "Need Some Love" and "Before and After" from Rush, filmed for a TV show, Canadian Bandstand, during a lunchtime set at Laura Secord Secondary School in St. Catherines - are closer to the verve and brawn Rush soon took to the U.S.. Lifeson acknowledges that "the last year with John was quite difficult." Rutsey suffered from diabetes, complicating tour plans, and he was, Lee says, "what we call 'a stay-at-home drummer.' It's a hockey reference. A stay-at-home defense man protects the goalie and never ventures too far into scoring territory."

Rutsey "had good meter," Lee adds, and "idolized" rock-solid English drummers such as Free's Simon Kirke and Led Zeppelin John Bonham. But Lee and Lifeson "wanted to make our music more complex," the bassist says, in the British art-rock spirit of Yes and Genesis. Rutsey "had no interest in playing odd-time signatures" while Peart, at his audition, got right to it. After arriving in his mother's car and setting up his kit (with garbage cans as makeshift road cases), Peart "played like Keith Moon and John Bonham at the same time," Lifeson later recalled.

"Neil was a fellow traveler," Lee says. "He had huge ambitions, and he challenged himself every time he played. Neil suited where Alex and I wanted to go." On August 14th, 1974, two weeks after Peart aced his audition, he, Lee and Lifeson flew to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to join a run of shows, at the bottom of the bill, for Urian Heep and Manfred Mann's Earth Band. "We had our 26 minutes down - we knew we could play," Lee declares. "We had no idea if we would be booed or welcomed or ignored. But we were ready."

 

Turn to any page in a 1970s-rock A-to-Z, and you are bound to find the name of an act that Rush opened for in America over the last five months of 1974 and through 1975. To name just a few in the three weeks after Peart's trial by fire in Pittsburgh: Blue Oyster Cult, Climax Blues Band, the Italian prog-rock group PFM, Texas blues guitarist Freddie King, Mountain and Fifties-revival novelty Sha Na Na. At one stop in late September, an amusement park in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, Rush shared the stage with T. Rex. In Los Angeles, Rush co-headlined four nights on the Sunset Strip, at the Whisky a Go Go, with genuine rock royalty - two former members of the Doors, guitarist Robby Krieger and drummer John Densmore, starting over as the Butts Band.

Nearly a dozen dates with KISS, on and off into late December, doubled as rock & roll college. "They were really kind to us," says Lee, who remembers bassist Gene Simmons catching part of Rush's set when they opened for KISS at Rutsey's last performance. Rush, in turn, watched KISS every night when they toured together in 1974 and 1975. "They knew how to put on a show, and we didn't know fuck all. We were absorbing from the side of the stage, and there was always something to learn."

KISS, for example, "had an American bravura that I did not possess," Lee admits. "I couldn't bring myself to shout at an audience. I was watching these other bands, how they shouted at the audience to get them fired up. That was a slow, learning curve for me. I admired artists who told stories, who could hold the audience in their hand like Tom Waits. But nobody was like that in the rock & roll touring we did. Everybody was yelling" - like the singer in the Dutch band Golden Earring. "He would go out and say, 'Hey, Detroit, it's my birthday!' And he'd say that every single night."

Lifeson remembers with affection Rush's month of shows with the great Irish blues guitarist Rory Gallagher - which included a triple bill in Detroit where they both opened for the psychedelic-folk legend Tim Buckley. "I spent almost every night with Rory after the show," Lifeson says, "drinking and talking about guitar players. Once he asked me, 'Do you like Neil Young's playing?' I said I wasn't crazy about his style. Rory said, 'Don't think about the style. Think about the heart, where his playing is coming from.' That was revealing to me."

Rush headlined on rare occasions, club bookings where they filled longer sets - sometimes two a night - with older, unrecorded tunes, new material destined for the next album and Peart's explosive drum solos, instantly a feature of every show. On August 26th, back in Cleveland for the second time that month (after passing through with Uriah Heep), Rush packed the city's top ballroom, the Agora. WMMS broadcast the action two days later. The big finish, a compact pulverizer called "Garden Road," came from Rutsey's last months, written "after we recorded the first album," Lee says, along with another unrecorded relic, "Fancy Dancer," and "In the End," a Lee-Lifeson song that closed the second side of 1975's Fly By Night.

"When we rehearsed with Neil for that tour, we tried to get as many songs ready as we could in case we needed them," Lee explains. "We didn't want to play 'Bad Boy' unless we needed it" - which they did at the Agora. "But we hadn't had time to write new songs with Neil, so we used the ones that were easiest to throw in the set."

Ironically, the Agora victory was dismissed by the Scene, a Cleveland weekly, with the sort of blunt trauma that became a bad, running joke in Rush's press clips. "I really don't see what all the excitement over Rush is about," the reviewer vented with references to "Lee's screeches," the band's "too-simple compositions" and "a lack of dynamics." A Los Angeles Times review from the Whisky was worse. Rush were "flagrantly derivative ... neither interesting nor listenable."

Lee understood the vitriol, up to a point: His voice, with a three-octave range to mezzo-soprano, "was always a matter of taste." Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant and British wailer Steve Marriott of the Small Faces and Humble Pie "were my hard-rock heroes. I was following them into that realm of screaming." But Rush "were seen as imposters. Our songs hadn't connected. So, my voice was a target. It took a long time for people to consider us a decent band, good songwriters."

Rush were too busy growing up fast, soaking up the wonder of America between Holiday Inns and truck-stop meals, to worry about critics. Lee and Lifeson visited the States as kids and teens; Peart, at 18, moved to London for a time, playing in bands and on a few studio sessions. But when Rush got to Texas - opening for KISS in Houston, then a club date in Dallas (with a $2.00 cover charge) - "It might as well have been Mars," Lifeson says. "We stopped for ribs along the road. We never had ribs in Toronto."

At the same time, Lee and Lifeson were bonding with Peart in performance, backstage and in the band's rental car, writing songs on acoustic guitars in the back seat on the 300-500-mile drives between shows. Much of Fly By Night came from those rides. Lee remembers "writing 'Making Memories' on one of those drives when we were pretty high." In cities where Rush managed to snag a soundcheck, "We would spend some of that time working out the songs electrically."

Peart joined Rush as "the hired drummer," Lifeson confesses. "He was getting a salary." But Lee and Lifeson "fell in love with Neil. In a couple of weeks, we felt so tight and so excited about where we were going." They also noticed the number of books Peart carried with him and, Lee says, "his rather large vocabulary." Lee and Lifeson asked Peart - who dropped out of high school to become a professional musician - if he was willing to write the lyrics while they focused on the music. "He wasn't that keen at first," Lifeson divulges. That didn't last. Lee still has the hotel stationary from the Pittsburgh Hilton with Peart's original manuscript for "Beneath, Between & Behind," the drummer's inaugural offering.

Lee points out that before the band left Toronto for the tour, Peart was contributing to "Anthem," a live highlight by the end of '74 and featured here from a December broadcast in New York City at the house that Jimi Hendrix built, Electric Lady Studios. "Alex and I had written parts of that song before Neil joined," Lee says. "But we jammed with Neil on the opening of the song when he auditioned for us."

It was in New York, Lifeson believes, that he and Lee told Peart how excited they were about a future with him. "We were walking down a street," the guitarist recalls, "and we said to Neil, 'We want you to really be a part of this band. The drums - they're yours. Even though we paid for them, we want you to know - they are your drums.'"

"We had nothing but each other," Lee asserts. "We were in this bubble, traveling around America, the three of us and our crew. It was like we didn't consider ourselves to be civilians. We were in the service, platoon mates. We became brothers. And it was us against the world."

 

At 5 AM one morning in January, 1975, Rush finished mixing Fly By Night at Toronto Sound with co-producer Terry Brown, then got on a plane to sub-freezing Winnipeg for a concert there. Rush were home less than a month and spent most of it making the album. Five days after Winnipeg, Rush went to Atlanta to launch another American tour. After that concluded in early June, followed by two weeks around Canada, they were back in Toronto Sound, devoting July to recording their third LP. Caress of Steel - like its predecessor, largely written on the road - before jumping back on the highway for six months of shows starting in Ottawa.

"We had survival fears," Lee says now, "and dreams of a better situation for ourselves" - a contradiction aggravated by the surreal workload. When Rush signed their Mercury contract, "It never dawned on us how nearly impossible it would be to make two albums a year and tour all the time, let alone the collateral damage on our personal lives." Rush were in mushrooming debt, living on advances from the record company that were deductible from album royalties and subject to commission - the percentages that went to their management and booking agents. "All our chips were in," Lee states frankly. "We were crossing our fingers that we could keep going," knowing that "to go down the tubes was definitely a possibility."

In response, Rush cranked up the ambition. "Though I know they've always/Told you selfishness is wrong/Yet it was for me not you/I came to write this song," Lee sang - in Peart's words - on Side One of Fly By Night, in the jagged charge of "Anthem." The nine minutes of "By-Tor and the Snow Dog," at the end of that LP side, affirmed how far Rush were ready to go, at any cost. A good-vs.-evil allegory in four mini-movements, "By-Tor" was an early lunge at the bigger mosaic-suite enterprise on Caress of Steel and 2112. In rehearsals, "We'd discuss the pieces, how we would knit them together," Lifeson says. In concert, the execution of that craft "left an impression: 'Wow, those guys can play that stuff? It's not just on the record?'"

Instrumental breakouts like the "Battle" section in "By-Tor" - extended with jubilant three-way soloing in the recording from Toronto's Massey Hall on Rush's 1976 live album, All the World's a Stage - evoked the free-rock improvising of Cream's Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker on the concert half of their 1968 double LP, Wheels of Fire. "That's a good observation," Lee confirms. Cream "were a big influence on us, the quintessential three-piece Alex and I loved. Neil loved those records as well, so we were in sync."

They were headed for a reckoning too. Caress of Steel, released in September, 1975, was a sobering reversal of fortune, stalling on Billboard's Top 200 at Number 148, far below the modest peaks of Rush and Fly By Night. Maybe it was one giant step too soon, Lifeson wonders now, with a 12-minute "short story" ("The Necromancer') and the full side of vinyl given to "The Fountain of Lamneth," a pilgrimage in six parts, including a drum solo. "For the crowd that was developing based on the first two records," the guitarist says, "it was too much to listen to and understand." On one tour stop with KISS, Rush played Caress for that band's singer-guitarist Paul Stanley. "He looked terrified" when it was over, Lifeson says, chuckling. "He couldn't wait to get out of our van."

"We were smoking too much hash oil in the studio," Lee allows. But "'Fountain' was no different to us than Nursery Cryme [by Genesis]. We were fleshing out our dream, and we were damned if someone was going to tear it down."

In an American interview at the time, Lifeson suggested that Caress of Steel reflected "how dazed we were by touring, learning, moving so fast that all the cities blended." "Bastille Day," with its eruptive changes and allusions to the bloody consequences of the French Revolution, wasn't that far from the exhausting, cynical turmoil of the music business. (As Peart wrote in the last line, "Power isn't all that money buys.") And "Fountain" was, inside its epic dimensions and extravagant framing, a statement of individual pride and resistance - a prelude to Peart's account of a war over the revolutionary force and precious sanctuary in music on Side One of the next album, 2112.

Lifeson defends the reach on Caress of Steel. "The Fountain of Lamneth" was basically "the story of life," the guitarist says. "Neil had the ability to use imagery that was fantastical but also very real. And when we moved out of the fantasy stage" - at the turn of the Eighties on Permanent Waves and Moving Pictures - "he became more of an observer of how difficult and complicated life is."

"We didn't see any difference between '2112' and 'Fountain'," Lee maintains. But the former - with its stuttering-power-chord entrance, the circular power-trio tempest in "Overture" and Lee's frenzied call to order, at the top of his register, in "The Temples of Syrinx" - "was immediately well-received" on the road: more than 200 shows in 1976 and '77 with Rush often performing the entire suite minus the quiet section, "Oracle - The Dream." "We didn't have the confidence yet," Lee says, "to go to the softer, more introspective things. We didn't want the audience getting restless. We preempted ourselves to keep the energy up." The reward: Rush steadily moved up in billing and venues, into arenas as headliners and better hotels. "We went from Holiday Inns and Howard Johnsons," Lifeson cracks, "to bigger Holiday Inns."

Peart described the state of Rush, two years into their American experience, this way in the summer of '76. "Ever since the three of us got together," he told a Canadian reporter, "it has been our objective to take the natural thing that comes to us - which is playing hard rock - and making it more progressive." And everything "from the birth of an idea through to its recording" was "split three ways, which is an even division that can't be found in larger bands.

"We have thought about adding a fourth member," Peart revealed, "but it would [...] upset the chemisty and destroy our balance." Instead, Rush would "expand on the possibilities open to the three of us ... looking for new textures and new sounds" - an initiative around the corner on 1977's A Farewell to Kings and 1978's Hemispheres. "I guess the simplest way of putting it is for us, it's music first."

 

On a frigid afternoon in January, 1979, I showed up at the Capitol Theatre in Passaic, New Jersey to begin my four days working as a roadie for Rush - and writing about it for my real job at Circus magazine. The 22-member crew had arrived late, thanks to a snowstorm, and there was a problem with the venue: It was too small for the arena-scale production Rush was taking across America to promote Hemispheres.

Ultimately, almost half of the 15 tons of equipment that comprised Rush's stage show - built and dismantled daily with the efficiency of a military campaign by a dedicated team of veterans, some going back to the pre-album years - stayed in the trucks that night. As Rush's stage manager Michael Hirsh grumbled to a Capitol stagehand during the load-in, "In the Midwest, we're a coliseum act. In the West and South, we're a coliseum act. In the Northeast, we're shit."

For Rush in the late Seventies and early Eighties, America was a rock & roll nation of markets - cities and regions with their own social and economic characters, media authorities and concert psychologies. Rush made friends everywhere they went. "Being Canadian, we were always very polite," Lifeson says. "We did every interview that was asked of us." But their success in America came "in pockets," Lee notes, and "not at the same rate."

Cleveland was the ignition. From there to Chicago, Detroit and across the upper Midwest, the reaction was instant and "insane," Lifeson marvels. "Georgia and Florida were different, laid-back but crazy at the same time." Texas was "exuberant" while the West Coast was "subdued - hip and cool but still enthusiastic."

New York and Los Angeles were "the last bastions," Lee says, "because we were not media darlings. And those were media cities. They came much later because we were not very groovy."

Regardless of ticket sales and attitude, Lee, Lifeson and Peart came to each town with a routine that - by the time I joined the crew in Passaic - was written in stone for maximum efficiency and sanity. "We always left after a show," Lee explains. "That's the best time to party. You're at your peak, and you have that excitement around you. We'd get on the bus and be our own party" until the next city, typically pulling up to the hotel at four or five in the morning.

The band then slept until noon; rustled up breakfast from room service "even though the menu was closed," Lee says, laughing; and made it to the hall or arena by 3:30 for soundcheck (leaving time for the opening band to get one, a luxury Rush seldom enjoyed in '74). "We'd have dinner with the crew," Lee goes on - I can vouch for that in Passaic - "and kill time listening to the other act. Then you'd go on." Two hours later, Rush were on the bus, doing it all over again.

The gear headache in Passaic was gone at the next date, the Civic Arena in Pittsburgh - the same building where Lee, Lifeson and Peart kicked off that '74 U.S. tour with Uriah Heep and Manfred Mann. "The first time we played here," Lee told me backstage, "we only had three feet of stage with no special effects. Just the basics. But those kids who saw us and liked it will come back and when they do, they expect to see what they saw the first time. Only we give them a little bit more."

Indeed, to cover the richer, sonic detail and visual possibilities of A Farewell to Kings and Hemispheres, Rush had, among other things, over 200 lights; a rear-projection film to accompany the Farewell suite "Cygnus X-1, Book 1" (the sequel was on Hemispheres), 23 microphones around Peart's drum fortress; and synthesizers for Lee and Lifeson including respective sets of Taurus pedals, a foot-triggered version of the Moog.

"The difference is in the organization of the music," Lee told me in 1981, explaining the passage across those two albums, Permanent Waves (released in January, 1980) and Moving Pictures (recorded that fall) into a tighter pop-wise songwriting that retained the prog-rock commitment of 2112. "It's not just that the songs are four minutes long so they can get on the radio," the bassist continued. "It's the quality of those four minutes." A good example: "Closer to the Heart" on Farewell, part-ballad, part-raver, was a Top 30 single in Britain, Rush's breakthrough there - and a Top Ten hit, according to Lee, in Columbus, Ohio.

Then there was "La Villa Strangiato," Hemispheres' 12-part instrumental whirlwind - loose Italian for "The Strangled City" and based, Peart recalled in a 2014 radio interview, on "Alex's brain ... these bizarre dreams that he would insist on telling you every detail about." Strafing-guitar hooks and bursts of metallic-fusion skirmish accumulated in Toronto, during the writing and rehearsals for the album. "We continued filling it out," Lifeson says, until the sessions at Rockfield Studios in Wales where Rush attempted to record it in one live take. Lee remembers spending ten days trying to nail the piece, longer than it took to record all of Fly By Night.

Reluctantly, Rush and co-producer Terry Brown edited three passes at "La Villa Strangiato" into one "quality version," Lee says. Then, back in Toronto, the band was asked to film a promotional video for the track. "We hated lip-syncing," the bassist says flatly. "Neil really hated lip-syncing." Rush agreed to make the clip only if they could play "La Villa Strangiato" live without an audience. They set up in Massey Hall - empty except for crew and cameras - and got it "in one fucking take," Lee says, still amazed and proud. "The one thing we could not do a couple of months earlier ..."

"People ask me, 'How do you remember all the notes?'" Lifeson says. "You don't think about it. You write it, you remember it, you play it." Then he discloses this bit of inside baseball about Rush's sound in concert - not the PA mix for the crowd but what the band members heard individually on stage, through their monitors each night. "Neil didn't have anything but drums," the guitarist says, "maybe a touch of vocals, a hair of bass. He played from memory, all these parts."

"That blew me away when I realized it," he goes on. "My monitors were an awesome mix of everybody, a live, exciting gig. Geddy was a rudimentary mix of bass, a bit of kick and snare and lots of vocals and keyboards, everything he needed to sing in key. I wanted the vibe. And Neil, just the drums" - showing how Peart internalized everything else in the music to such a profound, trusting degree.

"Exactly - internalized," Lifeson agrees. "Perfect word."

 

Lee did most of the talking from the back seat, but Peart was friendly and engaged, watching the road as he chimed in on that ride between Montreal and Ottawa as I interviewed them for Rolling Stone, a month after the February, 1981 release of Moving Pictures. Rush's eighth studio album had already sailed to Number Three in Billboard and would go gold, then platinum, before my story hit newsstands in May. The year before, Permanent Waves became Rush's first Top Five album in America while the opening track, "The Spirit of Radio" - a sleek eulogy to the free-form FM radio of Rush's youth with an eccentric bridge in reggae time - got them on the very stations in Peart's lyric crosshairs.

Yet underneath the photograph that ran with my Rolling Stone feature, the caption read "Two out of three." Lee and Lifeson showed up for the shoot, Peart did not. The drummer explained why on Moving Pictures, in a strident rocker lighting up the gigs on that tour - titled, with no small irony, "Limelight." "Cast in this unlikely role/Ill-equipped to act/With insufficient tact/One must put up barriers," Peart argued through Lee's vocal, "To keep oneself intact."

Rush were at the turning point they had fought for, uphill, since Pittsburgh in 1974 - success on their own terms. And Peart was turning away, setting his own, new rules of engagement. He reiterated his position - and distance - at the end of Moving Pictures, in the lyrics of "Vital Signs," a dark progressive-reggae march about losing one's mind. "Everybody got mixed feelings/About the function and the form," Lee sang. "Everybody got to elevate/From the norm." For the rest of his life in Rush, Peart was a musician dedicated to his craft and vision; a brother to his bandmates - and a rock star only to everyone else.

"Neil was shy," Lifeson says, "comfortable and happy in his isolation. He loved recording, playing, all of that stuff." But signing autographs, doing meet-and-greets - he wasn't interested."

Peart "suffered from stage fright," Lee confides. "I think that's why he was such a demon for rehearsal. He wanted to know the songs so well that he could play them in his sleep. He could overcome his nerves." The drummer "became famous in spite of himself. He had to figure out how to deal with it. And the best way was to avoid it."

Two months after that interview in the car, on May 18th, 1981, Rush took that long-awaited walk on to the stage of New York's Madison Square Garden - as headliners. "There is," Lifeson says, "no bigger gig you can do. Looking out to the sea of people, the back wall, it's this indelible thing in your brain."

That said, he can't summon any specifics from Rush's Garden debut, rather accumulated flashbacks from the band's shows there across the Eighties and beyond: a crowd that was so loud he had to stand next to Peart's kit to hear the drums; the lions and tigers in cages backstage because the circus was in town; an elevator ride to catering that got a little rough when he pushed the button for his floor ("Hey, that's not your job!"). Lee simply recalls "feeling great the first time - that we were able to fill a building like that in a city that was so difficult for us."

50 ends much further down the line: 34 years, eleven studio albums and hundreds of shows later with the closing medley of "What You're Doing" and "Working Man" from Rush and a wayback-machine flourish of "Garden Road" on August 1st, 2015 at the Forum in Los Angeles - Rush's last concert. Lifeson does have a clear and poignant memory from that evening.

"There was a clock on the back wall," he says, "and I remember staring at it, watching the minutes go toward the end and looking at the audience, focusing on all of those familiar faces. We had so many fans that came to so many shows over the years. My recollection of them, when they were younger, was so different. There was such a finality to it."

Yet for that ten minutes in those three songs, one more time, Rush were back in 1974 - crossing the border with everything ahead of them ... and nothing to lose.

---

In The End: Notes And Signposts On The Road Out

Philip Wilding

We've been here before.

It's May 2002, the sky's a clear blue dome above Toronto. It's quiet in Queen's Park and no one seems to notice the two men who helped make the Ontario Legislative Building infamous as the cover star of the Moving Pictures album. Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson, sporting a trim, and short-lived beard, are posing for pictures outside the government building they turned into an unlikely landmark some twenty years before.

"That's where all the idiots work," grumbles Randy, our driver for the day, as we pull away into traffic and Lee and Lifeson point out the city's landmarks peculiar to the band, an old rehearsal space to our right, a studio they recorded their early demos in on the left.

"Massey Hall," says Alex as we turn a corner and there's another building the band helped put on the map with their first live album; 1976's All the World's a Stage.

As history recalls, the album and tour that record celebrated - 2112 - helped define and save Rush just after their record label was about to pull the plug on their careers and contract.

And, just as Massey Hall drifts out of sight, we fall into conversation about how at this moment in time, as they were about to unveil Vapor Trails to the world, they were a band finding themselves on the cusp of another era in the band's career; the beginning of something new or the final leg of Rush's extraordinary journey, no one, not least Alex or Geddy, seemed to know.

"I don't think about making more Rush albums, really," Geddy would admit over coffee later, even as they were here promoting this one.

"I want to enjoy my life as much as possible. I know I really can't get on without writing, but I don't know whether it necessarily has to be with Rush anymore... Don't get me wrong, this album is, in some ways, the most successful journey that the three of us have been on together, and it's very possible that we'll repeat that experience, but I don't want to take anything for granted anymore. After all that's happened, how can we?"

It wasn't hard to understand his thinking, it had been five years since Test For Echo, five years since the band had effectively stopped. Neil had lost both his daughter and then his wife less than a year later. Consider me retired, he told his bandmates and climbed aboard his motorbike and disappeared off along some highway, caught in an endless chain of traffic, lost in America, with no wish to be found.

"We'd get these coded postcards sometimes," said Geddy, "And know he was out there somewhere, still searching, still trying to find some peace..."

Looking back at the notes for that interview now, the one thing that really struck me then and still stays with me now, was something that Alex had said, as Geddy nodded In agreement, that Neil, a man who played drums every day of the year, except Christmas Day, laid down his drumsticks in that period and apart from a two-week window, didn't touch his kit at all for four years. One of the most prodigious and talented drummers of his generation simply turned his back on his instrument and walked away.

"A tragedy like that," said Geddy, "just takes your spirit away."

Long days, longer nights, fifteen months of work in and out of the studio and rehearsal rooms that would eventually become the Vapor Trails record, getting to know each other again, that was a big part of it. Seeing if the sum of its parts was still something called Rush.

"The first few weeks in the studio, we didn't play a single note, we talked, really," says Alex.

"Then started writing, it took a couple of months just to clear the cobwebs. Most of the stuff we originally wrote was us just going through the motions; I think, a lot of it sounded dated. And then we took a break and when we came back the machine started rolling and the record took on a life of its own."

"It had been a long time," says Geddy, "And the writing did not come easy. We were very considerate, very respectful, there was no pettiness this time at all. Not that there was ever a preponderance of that, but sometimes you tour, you take a break and you come back and everyone's a little bitchy in their own way. But this wasn't like that at all. There was a lot of raw emotion in the air, and there were times where it was very heartfelt what we were doing, we were very aware of the fragility of the situation.

"Vapor Trails was really about the return of Neil's spirit and passion, that's why a lot of the songs are upbeat and intense. Rock music should be about the celebration of spirit, and I wasn't sure we'd get there, but I'm very pleased with the result, there was a lot of trial and error, a lot of failed experiments."

Later in that same conversation, Geddy would worry about the band's decision to tour again with their most ambitious set of shows in fifteen years now that they were all six years older. He wasn't sure their bodies could handle a three-hour live show and that maybe it was the last big tour the band would ever commit to. Strange now to look back at that and think how tenaciously Geddy held on to Rush as a touring band, how they'd go on from those shows for another decade and how brilliantly they'd play together until Neil finally threw the towel in. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Picture this: June 28, 2002, the Meadows Music Theatre, Hartford, Connecticut, it's the opening night of the Vapor Trails tour. It's not just that the band didn't think this moment would come again, no one did. Over the best part of three hours, they dug deep, "La Villa Strangiato" played for the first time in ten years, "Cygnus X-1" the first time in over two decades, sitting alongside the live debut of songs like "One Little Victory" and the album's real gem: "Earthshine."

A few years later, I'd ask Neil Peart what that night meant to him, to be back there again staring out at an eager audience, at the backs of his two best friends.

"It was so emotional for the three of us," he said, "Because Geddy and Alex had been so strong for me and so supportive through my troubles. We hadn't played in front of an audience for so long. I said to Ray [Danniels], our manager, at the end of that show, that it would have been a shame if this had never happened again.

"You have to remember that only a few years previously I was convinced that it was never going to happen. And in that show, in that moment, we just looked at each other and it was just so very powerful and emotional, so right."

 

Brown leaves fall out of a clear sky, seasons pass. Despite Geddy's misgivings ("I get tired of waking up every day with no throat"), the Vapor Trails tour is a huge success, critically and commercially, it also saw the band play their first ever shows in South America, a band who weren't even sure they'd play together again were playing in front of some of the largest crowds of their entire career: 60,000 people in Sao Paulo, 40,000 at the Maracana Stadium in Rio De Janeiro, the South American fans singing along so lustily to "YYZ" that they almost drowned the band out. Little wonder it helped tie three friends together again, reigniting their musical passion, grant them a renewed reason for being.

A rider is approaching, through the arid flatlands of Arizona, across New Mexico, past Amarillo, through Memphis, days of driving, swirls of dust, god knows how many bugs wiped away from the helmet's visor. It's a long road from Santa Monica to Antioch, Tennessee, but that's where Rush are right now, in rehearsals and pre-production for the R30 tour. Geddy and Alex might have flown in from Toronto, but not Neil.

"Come and meet the motorbikes," he says with a grin.

The bikes are housed in a trailer attached to the back of his tour bus. We're backstage at the Starwood Amphitheatre, a few days away from the opening night of the tour that will keep them on the road from May and into the beginning of October. Late Spring, Summer and the beginning of Autumn, North America first and then through Europe before their final show in Rotterdam and then a short break before heading to South America. Which all seems very far away from Antioch at that moment, the crew testing for PA snafus, the bloom of pyros in the bright afternoon, show time is imminent, yet feels impossibly far away.

Neil, in a move that must have made the band's management wince, has ridden for three days to cover the 2,000 plus miles to get here. His headshot on the back of his R30 laminate is the drummer in a full crash helmet, as that's usually how he looks as he rolls into the backstage area. Unlike his two bandmates, most nights of the tour, Neil gets out of the arena before most of the audience have left, onto the bus and he, his security man and the motorbikes go riding off into the night, not to be seen again until the soundcheck at the next show. Parking up somewhere far off the highway, so that he can use the miles between shows to ride his bike and find the real America rolling beneath his wheels.

"I leave straight off the stage and sleep on my own bus in a truck stop or somewhere," says Neil.

"Then I load the bikes off in the morning and, if it's a day off, I ride somewhere in the mountains or wherever. Or I get up in the morning and ride into the show and just have a world apart as much as I can. I started doing that around Test For Echo.

"I would not have had the exposure to the real world and real life if I were not on the back roads of America, Canada and Europe going through small towns at work, watching people talk to each other at the gas station. That goes back even to songs like 'Middletown Dreams.' All these moments of watching people, encounters in diners and restaurants, it's an observation post of sorts and a wide ranging one at that."

"Oh," smiles Geddy later that day, "He showed you the bikes, he must like you."

What a difference a few years makes, it's 2004 and Neil is vibrant, upbeat, showing you his goddamn motorcycles. When I'd visited the band in Toronto to talk Vapor Trails, and if there was even a future for Rush, Neil, for very obvious reasons, wasn't talking. And as open and welcoming as Geddy and Alex might have been, there was a lot that remained unsaid, there was a tour booked, but would it even go ahead? Would they ever ignite again as a band? Their live reputation had saved them before, not least in the '70s when the reception for Caress of Steel threatened to derail them and they went off on the self-titled Down The Tubes tour, playing, much like Spinal Tap, to an ever selective audience. History tells us how they held on for vindication and glory, and for anyone who ever saw them play at any point on that final glittering road of live shows, it's hard to deny the way a room lit up when Rush took to the stage. Even after a five-year hiatus, that show at the Meadows Music Theatre and the gigs that followed, proved what had underpinned the band's career: near flawless live performances, every night an event.

Which made for an optimistic air around band and crew those few days as they faced up to a summer of shows and more. Walk through the sprawling backstage area at the Starwood and there it is, a distant, rumbling tattoo, complex patterns, someone rolling around the toms, giving the snare drum one hell of a beating, it can only be one thing: Neil Peart warming up for opening night.

"He plays to play," Geddy had said earlier, and it was true, there he was, leaning into his practice kit (a practice kit for Neil was an impressive pile of black and white drums that pretty much dominated his entire dressing room) the way a man might lean into a fierce headwind. Face resolute while his hands and feet did impossible things. Warming up for over 30 minutes just so he'd be ready to go on stage for a three-hour set (including a drum solo that made your arms ache just watching it), but he's relaxed, excited, up. He, like his band, felt reborn.

Unlike the black and white drum kit that dominates the space, Neil Peart's dressing room is bordello red, set across the corridor from the one his two bandmates share. Possibly not to be outdone, Geddy and Alex keep a well-stocked bar in theirs.

Neil, once he'd set his sticks aside, was smoking; he smoked a lot. He grinned a lot, too. This was not the stone-faced drummer lost at the back of the stage somewhere behind racks of equipment, sparkling aluminium stands and sets of cymbals grouped around him like satellites around the Earth. Off duty, he was fun, goofy, reflective, bright and engaged. And for someone who hadn't really spoken to the press since Test For Echo, he was open, I mean, I got to meet the bikes, and the conversation was fluid and wide ranging, from his admiration for TS Eliot's work:

"He made me realize you could enjoy something even if you didn't exactly understand it. At first it can be intimidating; it was like when I was a teenager and I saw my first Fellini movie. I was like: 'What?!' But those images stayed with me, and there would always be a line in TS Eliot that would come home to you, and you would resonate with it.

"As a lyric writer, you're trying to trigger an emotional response, and because your words are being sung as well that gives you so much more ammunition. When I first hear one of our songs being sung, I can tell what resonates with Geddy and works in his heart. It's music, after all, not science."

He wasn't known for being the most confessional lyricist (the pointed "Limelight" aside, taking its now familiar swipe at the flipside of fame), but given the events that had led to Vapor Trails and the ensuing reunification of the band, those feelings of wretchedness and loss must have been to the fore when it came to writing the album?

"I like to find the universal aspect of a song. A lot of the songs on Vapor Trails are an example of that. They're obviously very personal, but I try to find a way to transcend them. This is what memories are like for everybody - those vapor trails in the sky. It's not just me, they fade.

"The nature of memory I explored in a few of those songs - even 'Ghost Rider' [the song] is about my travels - but I tried to find universal emotional touchstones that other people could discover in their lives. Maybe people will find their own resonance in a song.

"I like to weave imagery that has a basis in me, so that it's heartfelt, but that is also obscure enough so the listener can find something within it for them. It's like a wind chime; the wind blows through it and makes it sing."

"That sounds like one of your lyrics," I told him, and he nodded, smiled, wreathed in smoke, happy to be here.

 

More cigarettes, more smoke, another spring in Toronto, it's May and five years to the month from when we'd stood outside the Ontario Legislative Building, Geddy and Alex looking down the lens of the camera for a magazine cover shoot, warily making their way back into the world as a band.

This time, it's all so much more surefooted, Rush are in rehearsals for the excellent, late career stage classic Snakes & Arrows and spirits are high. Instead of wondering if touring their latest record is a mistake, the three can't wait to get out on the road, emails darting back and forth between the band over what songs to keep and what songs to drop from the set. A band with a 34-year history has a lot of material to draw upon, then add to the equation their desire to also play material from their latest album of which they're understandably proud. Of its 13 songs they'd like to play; they hazard, maybe eight. Rush songs aren't short either, even the latter-day ones.

Neil and I are sitting in a large rehearsal and storage space out towards Toronto Docks, his apple red and gleaming chrome drum kit set on a circular riser, it dominates the dark, cavernous room. Neil's back in Toronto to rehearse and help the band get in shape for their next world tour.

"Without a doubt, the best experience I've had making an album, ever," Peart says of Snakes & Arrows. Which must have been a blessing after the fifteen long months they spent toiling over Vapor Trails and would never be truly happy with until producer David Bottrill helped the band remix it to great effect in 2013.

Snakes & Arrows was a throwback of sorts, the reintroduction of bass pedals to the band's arsenal, writing on acoustic guitars (like they had done for albums like 2112 and A Farewell to Kings) and recording at a residential studio (think Le Studio or Rockfield in Wales). This time at the expansive (and now defunct) Allaire Studios set atop a mountain in the Catskills in upstate New York.

Peart had recorded a drum DVD in and around the grounds of Allaire and had been moved by its majesty and the sound he got playing in its grand main room, so was determined to record his drum parts there if nothing else.

"Beautiful: high ceilings, big windows and a great view and I need that," says Neil, looking wistful and far away.

We're seated around a scuffed and battered Rush drum flight case - original band logo spray painted on its side - Peart has his bottle of water, rolling papers and tobacco set between us. Geddy and Alex wanted him to come back to Toronto to write and record, but Neil's intuition told him that getting out of town might be good for all of them.

"We were on the plane down there, me and Al," says Geddy. "I said, okay, Neil really wants to do drums here and he knew what that place was all about, but we'd just heard 'residential' and we were like: 'Can't we do it in Toronto, please?'"

The main reception room in the band's old management offices in Cabbagetown in Toronto, milky white light coming in through the high window, Geddy sporting an austere looking ponytail, thinly streaked with lines of grey. But that's the only part of his demeanor that's austere, all three are goofy and on point, they all know this is the third and possibly final act for the band, this Rush renaissance.

"I remember insisting," he smiles at the word, "That we'd do the drums, maybe a few bass tracks and we'll get back to the city. I'm a curmudgeon in my old age, I like to have dinner with my family, and I don't like to work at night. Alex's different, he can go all night long. We tried bribing him too, we were up to 20 dollars at one point," he's laughing. "'Come on Neil, let us record in Toronto!,' but he doesn't respond to money."

"Oh, I wanted to stay there from the second morning!" says Alex.

He was sitting in the front of a bay window of his then home in one of the older Toronto neighborhoods, the window ledge covered with awards, including at least two Junos. His welcome mat at the front door says "Go Away" in black capitals. He's far more garrulous and open than that though.

"Ged had it all worked out, we weren't staying. Then that first night, Neil got his initial track done and we hung out in the control room just drinking and smoking, listening to some music, and just getting the vibe. It had such a fantastic energy about it. The next day, somebody threw out the idea that maybe we should just stay here for the whole recording, and everyone turned around and said, 'Yeah, let's really think about that.'"

"It was producer Nick's [Raskulinecz] idea," says Geddy, narrowing his eyes like a Shakespearian villain. "I was not happy about that, I went away, I didn't say anything, thought about it and you know, he was right. So, I said 'Okay, why not??' And it was really a smart idea..."

Raskulinecz may have only worked on two Rush albums and would have no doubt worked on more had the band stayed together, but his energy and endeavor were perfect for the late-stage Rush, with his fanboy demeanor it was easy to dismiss him as a freak who'd somehow inveigled himself into the control room, but his work ethic and arranging and production nous belied all of that. He not only pushed for the band to stay in the Catskills, but he was also the one who suggested they bring the bass pedals back and even got Neil to rethink his drum parts.

It was the second time he gave the drummer pause, the first was when Neil realized that Nick's mother was younger than he was. That said, Nick's a particularly benign force of nature. Affable, open, you can see why the band took to him and would bring him back for the Clockwork Angels record, he exudes positivity. Pretty neat air drummer too.

When we'd first met, I'd asked, considering his resume included Velvet Revolver and the Foo Fighters, who his dream production gig might be, he answered without taking a breath: "Rush. That was my dream album to make. Nobody plays like those guys anymore."

The story goes that as soon as the news spread that Rush were thinking about making a follow up to Vapor Trails, Raskulinecz immediately sent them his showreel. When he heard that the band wanted to meet him, he paid for his own flight from California to Canada just to spend a few hours in the company of Alex and Geddy.

"He started humming and thrashing around as soon as we played him our demos," recalls Geddy.

"I remember looking at Geddy and thinking who let the punter in?" laughs Alex.

"Everything was 'awesome' and 'dude,' he was very American, and we'd never worked with an American producer before."

"But you could tell he was passionate about the music that he made," says Geddy. "And I said to Alex, 'Being around this cannot be bad for us at all.' We just knew."

"'No one else uses them anymore!' That was how Nick sold us the idea of using bass pedals again," says Neil, "And we laughed about it behind our hands for a bit, but it was totally the right thing to do."

Though Neil wasn't laughing when Nick suggested changes to his parts on "The Way The Wind Blows."

"You knew that when you heard Nick utter the phrase, 'I'd be curious to hear ...' that you were going back into the studio," says Geddy, "And at one point or another, we all heard that phrase.

"So, we're working on 'The Way The Wind Blows' and Neil's playing and Nick's got a look on his face like he's stroking his chin, deep in thought, you know? So, he tells Neil what he wants, and Neil says: 'So you're asking me to completely rewrite both verses?' And it suddenly got very serious.

"Neil had a look on his face like he was going to explode, but he wasn't, he knew that Nick was right. He trusted Nick's ideas, he wasn't threatened by them, he was a little pissed off because his hands were killing him, but he says, 'I'm going back in there' and on his way back in he was like, 'Oh fuck, what am I going to pull off here?' Then he realized that he had this part that might work, so he threw that in, and you should have seen the room. It just lit up; I was just dancing, yes! He transformed the song, totally. Nick had this big grin on his face, and he brought Neil in to hear it afterwards and Neil went: 'Well, when you're right, you're right.'"

It was the perfect fit, the air-drumming kid who grew up listening to Rush knew how he wanted Rush to sound; write on acoustic guitars, use bass pedals, be more Rush! The mix of old heads and youthful enthusiasm made for a record that was not only moving forward, but unafraid to look back. Unsurprisingly, they finished ahead of schedule (Alex: "We had access to two studios and nothing else to do at night"), it was - in retrospect - the beginning of a new higher ground for Rush, a creative zenith, a band at peak performance, even all those years after it had begun.

Much later, after R40, after Clockwork Angels, after Neil had departed the band, I'd asked Geddy when he was happiest in Rush, it's a big question, given that he and the band literally grew up together, his response was typically heartfelt.

"I've never thought like that before," he said, "But I can tell you that ever since we came back after Neil's terrible tragedy with his family, and having those five years, those five dark years we were away, every tour I did with Rush I savored, I would say that period from coming back after Neil's tragedy, to the very end were really the golden years for me. I felt like I appreciated every gig, every note that we played. The camaraderie that the three of us had, I never took if for granted, not one day, so I would say that was my happiest time in Rush."

But this story is far from over.

 

Kermit the Frog atop the main gates, Charlie Chaplin's footsteps caught in concrete, producer Nick Raskulinecz, conducting Neil's drum parts with a baton, Neil's silver surfer, his gleaming vintage Aston Martin parked up outside the studio, people stopping to coo and take pictures next to it, good whisky, the final vocal record for "The Garden" and then sitting and listening to the mixes in the main studio room, Geddy and Neil eyes shut tight, all the better to feel and hear the music. Welcome to Henson Recording Studios, formerly the home of the A&M label; before that it was where Charlie Chaplin made some of cinema's era defining films. It was a good place for Rush, a good place for the band to be.

Another Spring, another time and place, the heart of Hollywood, 2012. Rush are here to mix and finish up what would be their final studio album - not that anyone could guess that then, given that the energy and creativity the band had was giving off sparks - but if it was the end, then what a final flourish. A fully rounded concept album, with echoes of their past, but made anew. Not least because of the return of producer Nick Raskulinecz.

"I said, 'Hey, let's not make a record for radio, let's make a record for ourselves,'" says Raskulinecz, we're seated in a small anteroom in Henson Studios, the walls and ceiling covered with patterned red and yellow drapes.

"I said, 'Let's not think about traditional arrangements, let's not worry about how long the songs are; let's make a Rush album. I want you guys to be Rush in every sense of the word, and let's see what kind of record we get on the other side of the voyage: Three and a half years later, this is what we've got. There was never a conscious decision to make a concept album, or to have it be full of crazy fills and have the bass licks, you know ... It just evolved. It's Rush, I didn't restrict them in anyway."

It was something I'd flagged to Geddy earlier, that Clockwork Angels really sounded like Rush, jamming together, extended pieces, more experimentation. Admittedly, I felt stupid as soon as it fell out of my mouth, thankfully, he knew what I meant.

"I don't know why we took so long to get back to that place," he said, "You have ways of writing and sometimes you ignore the obvious. And the obvious always comes back to what you are as a band, and we're players first, always. That's how we wrote 'The Spirit Of Radio,' that's how 'Tom Sawyer' was written, all of us together in a room jamming. We went away from that. We separated that from what I guess is essentially Rush.

"That was one of the things that Nick has shown us, not be afraid to respect our accomplishments of the past. We spent most of our lives running from anything we'd already done, trying to get to a better place finally: to write that song that we feel is better, play those pieces that reflect a growth. You get lost along the way, but that's what we've tried to do."

It's hard not to admire Raskulinecz's enthusiasm, Neil and the band certainly did. Neil called him "Booujzhe," after the producer suggested a series of near impossible fills that Neil might play.

"He'll mime the drum parts with wild physical gestures," says Peart. "And sound effects: 'Bloppida-bloppida-batu-batu-whir-rrrr-blop - booujzhe!' The 'booujzhe' being the downbeat, with crash cymbals and bass drum."

We're in the hilly residential enclave of California's Topanga Canyon. It's been pulling in the great and the good for years: Neil Young used to live here, as did Marvin Gaye; Taylor Hawkins and Stephen Stills too.

Seated on The Inn Of The Seventh Ray's patio, overlooking a babbling brook, while the speakers overhead play an extraordinary mixture of pan pipes and soothing new age tunes that makes us look up sharply from our raw soup. Soup, the menu informs us, that's been 'created through the vibrations of each day.'

The lunch spot was Neil's choice, he was impish throughout our meal, delighted by my head swiveling response to the venue. That's the memories that stick the most; how upbeat the whole band was at that point in time, a new label, a new album that had all the hallmarks of a classic Rush record - and has surely gone down as one of their top five albums, who else has gone out on such a creative high? - unified, looking forward.

The world was coming back around to Rush then, 2010's Beyond The Lighted Stage documentary had reminded old fans of their musical legacy and magic and brought in a new generation of listeners agog at the songs and the spectacle (and, presumably, the fact that three men could keep a straight face while being photographed in kimonos). The dust around the film had settled long before Rush had got to Henson, but one night, during the early mixes of Clockwork Angels, Geddy had got home and couldn't sleep, poured himself a drink and went channel hopping.

"And there it was, and I don't know why, but I just started watching it. I started seeing things in it that I hadn't noticed the first time, listening to things a little differently, because when I saw it the first time I really didn't want to, it was hard to watch. Watching yourself talk about your life, it's not for me. But I started watching it again and started thinking, my god, how strange to see your life up there on a television show in the middle of the night. And I thought about all the different people that can't sleep and are having the same experience I am, but they're watching my life. It's just so bizarre..."

Scenes from lives less ordinary: Alex sitting in a small practice space off the studio, drinking 12-year-old Macallan malt from tumblers full of ice and chatting. Through the glass, Nick and Neil listening to Clockwork Angels at earth-shaking volume, looking up to wave and nod occasionally. Later, Peart will hold up a piece of paper that says: 'Stop Talking Now!,' pointing at his guitarist. Alex sitting on his hotel balcony late at night overlooking Beverly Hills, acoustic guitar in hand, pulling on a sweet smelling joint in-between playing flurries of mellifluous and beautiful notes.

Geddy had dropped me off there, and as I'd exited the car, looked at me and said, "Whatever you do, don't smoke with Alex. I do it once a year on his birthday and ..." Making a cross-eyed face as he waved and disappeared among the traffic. I suppose you only know you're standing at the brow of the hill once you've walked down the other side and looked back, and Clockwork Angels was one of those hills.

 

Happy Birthday, Geddy Lee. It's three days before what may or may not be Rush's final show, and Lee, Lifeson and Peart have convened at the Canadian consulate in LA, where a reception is being thrown in their honor. The Consulate is bestowing its very first Honoree For Canadian Excellence award on the band, thanks in part to the fact that they have played Los Angeles 36 times over the years, that it also happens to be Lee's 62nd birthday and the 41st anniversary of the day the band hired Neil Peart doesn't hurt one bit either.

It's the summer of 2015, there are two shows left on the R40 tour: one at the Irvine Meadows Amphitheater and then, two nights later, the final hurrah at the LA Forum. Even after the acclaim for Clockwork Angels and the string of brilliant shows, everything points to the circus leaving town. Neil, feeling that he can no longer perform physically or mentally at his peak, has talked about retiring, about this being the end for him, there are different narratives playing out around these final shows.

At the consulate a few nights before, of all three of them, Neil was in high spirits, the one who seemed most relieved that this journey might be coming to an end. Later in the evening, he'd tell fellow guest actor Jack Black that Rush is over for him, as Black's eyes got wider, and his jaw slackened with disbelief.

Asked whether this would be Rush's swan song tour, guitarist Alex Lifeson replied: "I don't think we'd have much difficulty thinking about it as possibly the last."

I reminded Geddy Lee of this later and he laughed. "That's not true, I'm having great difficulty thinking like that. Alex is not speaking for me, and I don't think he's really speaking for himself either. I think he has mixed feelings. I don't want to speak for him. You can ask him. He can tell you his own lies."

That's how those last few shows were, Neil riding ever higher, full of relief, Alex and Geddy looking like two men unsure why they were being propelled towards the exit. Neil and Alex didn't say too much those last few shows, not to the press at least, the music was doing the talking; one of the best and most complete Rush shows I'd ever seen. Starting with "Clockwork Angels" are working backwards though their catalogue until they got to "Working Man." The stage set stripped back to reflect the different theatrics they'd use over the years, ending up with the band playing in a high school, single guitar amp sitting on chair. As a metaphor and idea, it was ingenious and perfect for a band revisiting their past and saying goodbye to it, but that wasn't it at all.

"It looks that way," says Lee. There was a long pause, as we sat in the back of the car taking Lee to the penultimate show.

"The idea was appropriate enough for a retrospective. The fact that it may or may not be the last tour makes it more poignant, but that wasn't the purpose of it. I loved the idea of finishing the show in our earliest, most simple state."

Two days later and the R40 tour - and Rush themselves - is drawing to a close. The trio first played the LA Forum in 1976, in support of 2112. Tonight will be the 25th time they've played here. It's strange to pour over the notes from that night now, almost ten years gone, the three guys snaking through the audience who've come dressed as 2112 era Rush, even down to Neil's flamboyant moustache. One thickset man in a Permanent Waves top, which must have fitted him once, grabbing the guy who's come as Geddy Lee by the shoulder and screaming in his face: 'Get on stage!'

It all had a dreamlike feel, swathes of the audience drunk and high, no one wanting to leave the party just yet. The couple who have flown in from Tokyo for three days just to see the final show, clutching hands and staring dreamily at the giant R40 logo set across the safety curtain at the front of the stage. The air charged with something more than mere expectation. Four decades of Rush have led to this moment.

"Losing It," a song that couldn't have more potency than tonight, is a moment of intractable and pure joy, filled with both highs and lows, inexpressibly beautiful, the violin's high, keening song reaching out to the distant, circular ceiling. It does something to an already charged crowd who are suddenly moist eyed and hopeless as if they suddenly realize what they're about to lose or have already lost. "Closer To The Heart" is similarly impactful as the Forum lights up with thousands of plastic star men logos held high, swaying unsteadily, couples link arms as the song's refrain echoes around the room and down through time.

It's almost all too much and then it is, as the show's ending and after "Working Man" draws to a close, the giant screen that shrouds the stage descends for the outro film. It starts off with a series of outtakes of the band hamming it up, before it jumps to Lee shouting, "Thank you, goodnight!" from different stages and times around the world. It's an emotional moment that's almost unbearable to watch. Some members of the crowd are shouting themselves hoarse while others are clearly in tears.

Pause, now fast forward through the years and Lee and Lifeson are back here to celebrate the life and times of the sadly departed Taylor Hawkins, a friend and fan of Neil's and the band. It's September 2022 and they're revisiting songs they played that final night; "2112," "Working Man" and "YYZ." A night that hinted that there could be some kind of future for Rush in some shape or form. But that's for another time. Neil had gone too by then, of course. Lost to the sky, driving his bike to some unreachable place.

But back here tonight on August 1st, 2015, Neil stands up on his drum riser as the show roars to its finale and takes pictures of the audience and then, doing something he's never done before and never will again, he walks up behind Alex and Geddy as the latter is saying goodnight and surprises them both with a hug, the three linking arms at the lip of the stage.

Neil mouths 'goodbye' and then is gone.

"Thank you... for forty awesome years and I do hope we meet again some time," says Geddy and there's one final embrace for him and Lifeson and a long last wave as the curtain falls and the lights come up signaling an end like no other.

---

GEDDY LEE
Bass guitars, classical guitars, vocals, Mini Moog, bass pedal synthesizer, Oberheim polyphonic, Taurus pedals, OB-1, OB-X, and occasional rhythm guitar

ALEX LIFESON
Six and twelve string acoustic and electric guitars, classical guitar, steel guitar, bass pedal synthesizer, Roland guitar synthesizer, Taurus pedals, and backing vocals

NEIL PEART
Drums, percussion, orchestra bells, tubular bells, temple blocks, cowbells, wind chimes, bell tree, triangle, vibra-slap, tympani, gong, crotales, timbales, glockenspiel, electronic percussion, and hammer dulcimer

John Rutsey - drums*

Disc 1

NOT FADE AWAY*
Music and Lyrics: Norman Petty and Charles Hardin
Produced and engineered by David Stock
Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Ⓟ 1973 Anthem Entertainment L.P.
Originally released on "Not Fade Away" single (1973)

YOU CAN'T FIGHT IT*
Music and Lyrics: Geddy Lee and John Rutsey
Produced and engineered by David Stock
Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Ⓟ 1973 Anthem Entertainment L.P.
Originally released on "Not Fade Away" single (1973)

WORKING MAN (Vault Edition)*
Music and Lyrics: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Engineered by David Stock and Terry Brown
Recorded at Eastern Sound Studios and Toronto Sound Studio, Toronto, Ontario, Canada -
September & November 1973
Mixed by Richard Chycki
Mastered by Andy VanDette - 2013
Originally released as "Working Man (Vault Edition)" digital single (2013)

NEED SOME LOVE (Live)*
Music and Lyrics: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson
Recorded live at Laura Secord Secondary School, St. Catharines, Ontario, Canada - May 15, 1974
Audio Restoration and Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Previously unreleased on CD audio

BEFORE AND AFTER (Live)*
Music and Lyrics: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson
Recorded live at Laura Secord Secondary School, St. Catharines, Ontario, Canada - May 15, 1974
Audio Restoration and Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Previously unreleased on CD audio

BAD BOY (Live)
Music and Lyrics: Larry Williams
Recorded live at Agora Ballroom, Cleveland, Ohio - August 26, 1974
Audio Restoration and Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Previously unreleased

GARDEN ROAD (Live)
Music and Lyrics: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson
Recorded live at Agora Ballroom, Cleveland, Ohio - August 26, 1974
Audio Restoration and Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Previously unreleased

ANTHEM (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded live at Electric Lady Studios, New York - December 5, 1974
Audio Restoration and Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Previously unreleased

FLY BY NIGHT
Music: Geddy Lee / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded and mixed at Toronto Sound Studios, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - December 1974
Engineer: Terry Brown
Assistant Engineer: John Woloschuk
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on FLY BY NIGHT (1975)

BASTILLE DAY
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded and mixed at Toronto Sound Studios, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - July 1975
Engineered by Terry Brown
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on CARESS OF STEEL (1975)

2112: OVERTURE / THE TEMPLES OF SYRINX
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded and mixed at: Toronto Sound Studios, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - January 1976
Engineered by Terry Brown
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on 2112 (1976)

BY-TOR & THE SNOW DOG (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded live at Massey Hall, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - June 11-12-13, 1976
Mixed at Toronto Sound Studios, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - 1976
Engineered by Terry Brown
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE (1976)

SOMETHING FOR NOTHING (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded live at Massey Hall, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - June 11-12-13, 1976
Engineered by Terry Brown
Mixed by Terry Brown - 2016
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2016
Originally released on 2112 40th (2016)

Disc 2

CLOSER TO THE HEART
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart and Peter Talbot
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded at Rockfield Studios, Wales, United Kingdom - June 1977
Engineered by Pat Moran and Terry Brown
Mixed by Terry Brown at Advision Studios, London, United Kingdom
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on A FAREWELL TO KINGS (1977)

XANADU (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded live at Hammersmith Odeon, London, United Kingdom - February 20, 1978
Engineered by Terry Brown
Mixed by Terry Brown - June/July 2017
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2017
Originally released on A FAREWELL TO KINGS 40th (2017)

DRUM SOLO (Live)
Music: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded live at Hammersmith Odeon, London, United Kingdom - February 20, 1978
Engineered by Terry Brown
Mixed by Terry Brown - June/July 2017
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2017
Originally released on A FAREWELL TO KINGS 40th (2017)

THE TREES (Vault Edition)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded at Rockfield Studios, Wales, United Kingdom - June/July 1978
Engineered by Pat Moran
Vocals recorded at Advision Studios, London
Engineered by Declan O'Doherty
Mixed by Richard Chycki
Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Previously unreleased

LA VILLA STRANGIATO (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart
Recorded live at Pink Pop Festival, Burgemeester Damen Sportpark, Geleen, Netherlands - June 4, 1979
Mastered by Sean Magee and James Clarke - 2018
Originally released on HEMISPHERES 40th (2018)

IN THE MOOD (Live)
Music and Lyrics: Geddy Lee
Recorded live at Pink Pop Festival, Burgemeester Damen Sportpark, Geleen, Netherlands - June 4, 1979
Mastered by Sean Magee and James Clarke - 2018
Originally released on HEMISPHERES 40th (2018)

THE SPIRIT OF RADIO
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada - September/October 1979
Engineered by Paul Northfield
Mixed at Trident Studios, Soho, London, United Kingdom - November, 1979
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on PERMANENT WAVES (1980)

NATURAL SCIENCE (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded live at Manchester Apollo, Manchester, United Kingdom - June 17-18, 1980
Mixed by Terry Brown - 2019
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2020
Originally released on PERMANENT WAVES 40th (2020)

A PASSAGE TO BANGKOK (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded live at Manchester Apollo, Manchester, United Kingdom - June 17-18, 1980
Mixed by Terry Brown - 2019
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2020
Originally released on 2112 - DELUXE EDITION (2012)

TOM SAWYER
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart and Pye Dubois
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded and mixed at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada - October/November 1980
Engineered by Paul Northfield
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on MOVING PICTURES (1981)

LIMELIGHT (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded live at Maple Leaf Gardens, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - March 24-25, 1981
Engineered by Guy Charbonneau
Mixed by Terry Brown - December 2020 - February 2021
Mastered by Peter Moore - 2021
Originally released on MOVING PICTURES 40th (2022)

VITAL SIGNS (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded live at Maple Leaf Gardens, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - March 24-25, 1981
Engineered by Guy Charbonneau
Mixed by Terry Brown - December 2020 - February 2021
Mastered by Peter Moore - 2021
Originally released on MOVING PICTURES 40th (2022)

Disc 3

YYZ (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Neil Peart
Produced by Terry Brown
Recorded live at The Forum, Montreal, Quebec, Canada - March 27, 1981
Engineered by Terry Brown
Tech-men Guy Charbonneau and Jack Crymes
Mixed at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada
Engineered by Paul Northfield
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on EXIT...STAGE LEFT (1981)

SUBDIVISIONS
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded and mixed at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada - April, May, June, and July 1982
Engineered by Paul Northfield
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on SIGNALS (1982)

RED SECTOR A
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Peter Henderson
Recorded at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada - November 1983 - March 1984
Engineered by Peter Henderson
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on GRACE UNDER PRESSURE (1984)

WITCH HUNT (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded live at Maple Leaf Gardens, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - September 21, 1984
Mixed by Mike Fraser and Alex Lifeson
Originally released on GRACE UNDER PRESSURE 1984 TOUR (2009)

NEW WORLD MAN (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded live at Maple Leaf Gardens, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - September 21, 1984
Mixed by Mike Fraser and Alex Lifeson
Originally released on GRACE UNDER PRESSURE 1984 TOUR (2009)

THE BIG MONEY
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Peter Collins and Rush
Engineered by Jimbo "James" Barton
Recorded at The Manor, Oxfordshire, England; AIR Studios, Montserrat, Caribbean;
SARM East, London, United Kingdom - April - August 1985
synthesizer programming by Andy Richards and Jim Burgess
Additional keyboards by Andy Richards
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on POWER WINDOWS (1985)

TIME STAND STILL
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Peter Collins and Rush
Engineered by Jimbo (James) Barton
Recorded at The Manor, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom; Ridge Farm Studio, Surrey, United Kingdom;
Air Studios, Montserrat, Caribbean; McClear Place, Toronto, Ontario, Canada; Lerxst Mobile -
January - April 1987
Synthesizer programming assistance by Andy Richards and Jim Burgess
Additional Keyboards by Andy Richards
Additional vocals by Aimee Mann recorded at McClear Place, courtesy of Epic Records
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on HOLD YOUR FIRE (1987)

DISTANT EARLY WARNING (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush
Engineered by Paul Northfield and Guy Charbonneau
Recorded live at NEC Arena, Birmingham, United Kingdom - April 21-22-23, 1988
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Originally released on A SHOW OF HANDS (1989)

SUPERCONDUCTOR
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rupert Hine and Rush
Engineered by Stephen W. Tayler
Recorded at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada; McClear Place, Toronto, Ontario, Canada -
June - August 1989
Additional keyboards by Rupert Hine and Jason Sniderman
Additional background vocals by Rupert Hine
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Ⓟ 1989 Atlantic Records
Originally released on PRESTO (1989)

DREAMLINE
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rupert Hine and Rush
Engineered by Stephen W. Tayler
Recorded at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada; McClear Place, Toronto, Ontario, Canada -
February - May 1991
Additional keyboards and background vocals by Rupert Hine
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Ⓟ 1991 Atlantic Records
Originally released on ROLL THE BONES (1991)

STICK IT OUT
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson /Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Peter Collins and Rush
Recorded by Kevin (Caveman) Shirley
Recorded at Le Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada; McClear Pathé, Toronto, Ontario, Canada -
April - June 1993
Additional keyboards by John Webster
Mixed by Michael Letho
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Ⓟ 1993 Atlantic Records
Originally released on COUNTERPARTS (1993)

TEST FOR ECHO
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart and Pye Dubois
Produced by Peter Collins and Rush
Recorded by Clif Norrell
Recorded at Bearsville Studios, Bearsville, New York; Reaction Studios, Toronto, Ontario, Canada -
January - April 1996
Mixed by Andy Wallace
Mastered by Sean Magee - 2015
Ⓟ 1996 Atlantic Records
Originally released on TEST FOR ECHO (1996)

THE RHYTHM METHOD (Live)
Music: Neil Peart
Produced by Geddy Lee and Paul Northfield
Engineered by Paul Northfield
Recorded live at World Music Theatre, Tinley Park, Illinois - June 14, 1997
Mastered by Bob Ludwig - 1998
Ⓟ 1998 Atlantic Recording Corporation and Anthem Entertainment for the United States and WEA International, Inc. for the world outside of the United States
Originally released on DIFFERENT STAGES (1998)

Disc 4

ONE LITTLE VICTORY (Remixed)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson /Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Rush and Paul Northfield
Recorded by Paul Northfield, Geddy Lee, and Alex Lifeson at Reaction Studios, Toronto, Ontario, Canada -
January - November 2001
Mixed by David Bottrill - 2013
Mastered by Andy VanDette - 2013
Ⓟ 2002 Atlantic Records
Originally released on VAPOR TRAILS (2002) VAPOR TRAILS REMIXED (2013)

CYGNUS X-1 (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Recorded by James "Jimbo" Barton
Recorded live at Maracana Stadium, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil - November 23, 2002
Mixed by James "Jimbo" Barton and Alex Lifeson
Mastered by Adam Ayan - 2003
Ⓟ 2003 Atlantic Recording Corporation for the United States and
WEA International Inc.
for the world outside of the United States and Canada.
Originally released on RUSH IN RIO (2003)

THE SEEKER
Music and Lyrics: Pete Townshend
Produced by David Leonard and Rush
Recorded, Mixed, and Engineered by David Leonard at Phase One Studios, Toronto, Ontario, Canada -
March - May 2004
Mastered by Stephen Marcussen - 2004
Ⓟ 2004 Atlantic Records
Originally released on FEEDBACK (2004)

BETWEEN THE WHEELS (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Pierre Lamoureux
Mixed by Richard Chycki and Alex Lifeson
Recorded live at Festhalle Frankfurt, Frankfurt, Germany - September 24, 2004
Mastered by Stephen Marcussen - 2005
Ⓟ 2005 Atlantic Recording Corporation for the United States and
WEA International Inc.
for the world outside of the United States excluding Canada.
Originally released on R30 (2005)

THE MAIN MONKEY BUSINESS
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Nick Raskulinecz and Rush
Engineered and Mixed by Richard Chycki
Recorded at Allaire Studios, Shokan, New York - November / December 2006
Additional recording at Grandmaster Recorders, Hollywood, California
Additional engineering and mixing by Nick Raskulinecz
Mastered by Andy VanDette - 2007
Ⓟ 2007 Atlantic Recording Corporation for the United States and
WEA International Inc.
for the world outside of the United States.
Originally released on SNAKES & ARROWS (2007)

WORKIN' THEM ANGELS (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Francois Lamoureux
Recorded live at Ahoy Arena, Rotterdam, Holland - October 16-17, 2007
Mixed by Richard Chycki and Alex Lifeson
Mastered by Andy VanDette - 2008
Ⓟ 2008 Atlantic Recording Corporation for the United States and
WEA International Inc.
for the world outside of the United States excluding Canada.
Originally released on SNAKES & ARROWS: LIVE (2008)

FREEWILL (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced & mixed by Richard Chycki
Recorded live at Quicken Loans Arena, Cleveland, Ohio - April 15, 2011
Recording Engineers: Richard Chycki, Joel Singer
Mastered by Andy VanDette - 2011
Ⓟ 2011 The All Blacks U.S.A., Inc. for the world excluding Canada; Anthem, a division of ole
Media Management L.P. for Canada. Issued under license to Roadrunner Records from ole Media Management L.P.
Originally released on TIME MACHINE: LIVE IN CLEVELAND 2011 (2011)

RED BARCHETTA (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced & mixed by Richard Chycki
Recorded live at Quicken Loans Arena, Cleveland, Ohio - April 15, 2011
Recording Engineers: Richard Chycki, Joel Singer
Mastered by Andy VanDette - 2011
Ⓟ 2011 The All Blacks U.S.A., Inc. for the world excluding Canada; Anthem, a division of ole Media Management
L.P. for Canada. Issued under license to Roadrunner Records from ole Media Management L.P.
Originally released on MOVING PICTURES: LIVE 2011 (2011)

HEADLONG FLIGHT
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced by Nick Raskulinecz and Rush
Recorded by Richard Chycki
Recorded at Revolution Recording, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - Oct - Dec 2011
Mixed by Nick Raskulinecz
Mastered by Brian "Big Bass" Gardner - 2012
Ⓟ 2012 T.Y.S., Inc.
Originally released on CLOCKWORK ANGELS (2012)

MANHATTAN PROJECT (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Clockwork Angels String Ensemble:
Conductor: David Campbell
Violins: Mario De Leon, Joel Derouin, Jonathan Dinklage, Gerry Hilera, Audrey Solomon, Hiroko Taguchi, Entcho Todorov
Cello: Adele Stein, Jacob Szekely
Recorded live at US Airways Center, Phoenix, Arizona; American Airlines Center, Dallas, Texas; AT&T Center,
San Antonio, Texas - November 25-28-30, 2012
Recording Engineers: Richard Chycki and Joel Singer
Mixed by Mike Fraser
Mastered by Adam Ayan - 2013
Ⓟ 2013 TY.S., Inc.
Originally released on CLOCKWORK ANGELS TOUR (2013)

JACOB'S LADDER (Live)
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart
Produced, recorded and mixed by David Bottrill
Recorded live at Air Canada Centre, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - June 17-19, 2015
Mastered by Joao Carvalho - 2015
Ⓟ 2015 Anthem Entertainment L.P.
Originally released on R40 LIVE (2015)

WHAT YOU'RE DOING / WORKING MAN / GARDEN ROAD (Live)
Music and Lyrics: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson
Recorded live at the Forum, Los Angeles, California - August 1, 2015
Recorded by Brad Madix and Brent Carpenter
Mixed by Terry Brown at Moron Heights, Canada - February 2024
Mastered by John Polito - 2024
Ⓟ 2024 Anthem Entertainment L.P.
Previously unreleased

---

Compilation Produced by Jeff Fura

Audio assembly: John Polito

Creative Direction: Hugh Syme and Jeff Fura
Art direction, Illustrations and Design: Hugh Syme
Photographers: Fin Costello via Rush Archive and Redferns via Getty Images, Richard Sibbald via Rush Archive, Tim Mosenfelder - Hulton Archive via Getty Images, Patti Ouderkirk - Wirelmage via Getty Images, Images, Michael Mosbach

Liner notes: David Fricke and Philip Wilding
Production Managers: Alex Sale and Emita Meetarbhan
Product Manager: Kristina Waters and Maddie Sillivos
UMe PR: Sujata Murthy / Todd Nakamine
Licensing: Andrew Labarrere

UMe and Anthem wish to thank: Meg Symsyk, David Steinberg, Patrick McLoughlin, David Calcano and the Fantoons team, Terry Brown, Allan Weinrib, David Fricke, Philip Wilding, Duff Battye, Veronica Sinnaeve, Richard Chycki, Jason Klein, Adrian Battiston, Andy Hawke, Chuck Bliziotis, Andy Curran, Ryan Cain, Chris Price, Yona Shereck, Clay Dean, Mark Pinkus, David Ponak, Grant Olsen, Glenn Fukushima, Kate Dear, Katie Fee, Holland Greco

For the Band: Meg Symsyk, David Steinberg, Sheila Posner, Patrick McLoughlin

A special thank you to Ray Danniels who was there with us from the very beginning.

RUSH.com
umgcatalog.com
A Mercury Records and an Anthem Records release; Ⓟ© 2024 UMG Recordings Inc. for the world excluding Canada and Japan, Ⓟ© 2024 Anthem Entertainment LP: for Canada and Japan.

---

Fifty Years of Human Interface and Interchange

Our most heartfelt thanks go out to our families and friends, and the many good people we were fortunate enough to work alongside for over five decades.

Dedicated - with love - to the force of nature that was Pegi Cecconi QOFE... Rest in Peace.

MANAGEMENT
Val Azzoli, Cynthia Barry, Tom Berry, Jeremy Biderman, Jonathan Biderman, Walter Buckle, Pegi Cecconi (QOFE), Lesley Clark, Evelyn Cream, Diane Cross, Andy Curran, Susan Dobie, Karin Doherty, Troy Danniels, Ray Danniels, Jacob Drobac, Linda Emmerson, Bob Farmer, Kim Garner, Perry Goldberg, Elaine Gray, Lucy Guglielmetti, Joy Hallam, Marilyn Harris, Joanna Hartley, Steve Hoffman, Karen Jones, Anna LeCoche, Justin Lee, Rayanne Lepieszo, Linda Lockett, Izzy Martin, Cindy Matthews, Charlene McNicol, Laura Mercer, Gwen Millen, Shelley Nott, Sheila Posner, Stephanie Robertson, Randy Rolfe, Bob Roper, Rhonda Ross, Ted Seto, Veronica Sinnaeve, Pat Simcoe, Emma Sunstrum, Meg Symsyk, Peter Taylor, Tyler Tasson, Mike Tilka, Joni Wall, Vic Wilson

CREW
Richard Acebo, Kenny Ackerman, Doug Adams, Frank Aguirre Jr., Dick Albrecht, Bruce Aldrich, Beau Alexander, Larry Allen, Jason Alt, Chuck Anderson, Steven Anderson, Marc Andre Gelinas, Curtis Anthony, Scott Appleton, John Arrowsmith, Denis Ayotte, Michael Bach, Mark Baddams, Gerry Barad, Billy Barlow, Gary Barnard, George Barnes, Randy Bast, Duff Battye, Marty Beeler, Brian Beggs, Dave Berman, Rebecca Berman, Cliff Bernstein, Steve Berry, Liam "Leaf" Birt, Chris Blair, Yanick Blais, Craig Blazier, Karin Blazier, Bryan Bocian, Jim Bodenheimer, Tom Booth, Ken Bosemer, Benoit Bourdages, Lydia Bourgeau, Joey Bradley, Dan Braun, Paul Bricusse, Rick Britton, Lars Brogaard, Steve Brooks, Chris Brown, Doug Brown, Raffaele Buono, David Burnette, Linda Burnham, Mike Burnham, Joe Bush, Kevin "Stick" Bye, Steve Byron, Vincent Cadieux, Peter Callahan, David Campbell, Joe Campbell, Marty Capiraso, Michael Caron, Bob Chaize, Earl Charles, Sam Charters, Mark Cherry, Bill Chrysler, Bill Churchman, Vinny Cinquemani, Jim Clark, John Coffield, Rob Cohen, Steve Cohen, Daniel Cojan, Larry Cole, Mark Coleman, Billy Collins, Brian Collins, Don Collins, Colin Compton, Steve Conley, Seth Conlin, Greg Connolly, Dave Cook, Jon Cordes, Conrad Coriz, Lorenzo Cornacchia, Mario Corsi, Fin Costello, Dennis Cricket, Bob Cross, Scott Cunningham, Tom (Domenic) D'Ambrosia, David Davidian, Eric Davis, John Davis, Scott Davis, Paul DeCarli, Jim DeLuca, Lance Dennis, Jim Dezwarte, Harry Dilman, Joeri Donckers, Matt Druzbik, Ed Duda, Phil Dunlap, Sam Dunn, Paul Edwards, Bill Elson, Jon Erickson, Brian Evans, Richard Farr, Anthony Fedewa, Stewart Felix, lan Fergusson, Bill Fertig, Jim Filbott, Russell Fleming, Dave Fletcher, John Fletcher, Kevin Flewitt, Jim Floyd, Arthur Fogel, Rick Foote, Andrew Forster, Mike Frantz, Tim Fraser-Harding, Fuzzy Frazer, Larry Frazer, Bruce French, Jack Funk, Bill Fuquay, Phil Gabbitas, Andy Garanyi, Randy Garrett, Tony Geranios (Jack Secret), Michael Gibney, Robbie Gilchrist, Skip Gildersleeve, Greg Glazer, Andy Goddard, Dave Good, Shane Gowler, Ian Grandy, Adrian Green, Tim Grivas, Jamie Grossenkemper, Gene Guido, George "Ike" Guido, Josh Hadley, Moe Haggadone, John Halfpenny, Craig Hallman, lvar Hamilton, Tony Hammonds, Bob Hardison, Dan. Harmer, James Harrelson Jr., Corey Harris, Tom Hartman, John Hastedt, Greg Haygood, Jason Heitmann, Lisa Hemeon, Jerry Henderson, Don Hendricks, Samantha Henfrey, Greg Hermanovic, Stephan Herter, Dale Heslip, Graham Hewitt, Tom Higgins, Stefanie Hirning, Michael Hirsh, George Hoadley, Keith Hoagland, Bob Hoeschel, Martin Holmshaw, Simon Honner, Paul Hortop, Larry Hovick, Steve Howard, Bobby Huck, Steve Huddleston, Kevin Hughes, Mike Humble, Ed Hyatt, Don Johnson, Jim Johnson, Randy Johnson, Aline Jones, Martin Joos, Brad Judd, Keith Kaminski, Kevin Kapler, Phil Karatz, Achim Karstens, Brian Keefe, Keith Keller, Matt Kenward, Ron Kilburn, Mike Kindler, Mike King, Bob Kniffin, Daniel Koniar, Adam Kornfeld, Steve Kostecke, Nick Kotos, Steve Kotzer, Elliot Krowe, Richard Lachance, Bob Larkin, Dave Larrinaga, Mark Larson, Charlie Lawson, Ted Leamy, John LeBlanc, Matt Leroux, Matt Levine, Tim Lewis, Timothy Lighthall, Tom Linthicum, Donny LoDico, Simmaryin (Speed) Love, Donovan Lundstrom, Lashawn Lundstrom, Pat Lynes, John Lyon, Danny Macintosh, Phil MacMullin, Andrew MacNaughtan, Jason Macrie, Steve Magyar, John Mallen, Sal Marinello, Bernhard Mark, Harry Martinez, Scott Maskin, Ralph Mastrangelo, Joe Mauceri, Henry McBride, Red McBrine, Randy McDaniel, Mike McDonald, Ted McDonald, John "Skully" McIntosh, Doug McKinley, Mike McLean, Candy McLear, Arthur "Mac" McLear, Kelly McLoughlin, Mike McLoughlin, Patrick McLoughlin, Shannon McLoughlin, Andrew Mellor, Juli Menitti, Steve Menitti, Jeffrey Meservy, Tom Mikita, Mickey Miller, Christopher -Mills, Ben Mink, Ken Mitchell, Sam Mitchell, Staf Moonen, Rick Mooney, Anson Moore, John Morgan, Glyn Morris, Mike Morrison, Mark Morton, Michael Mosbach, Mike Mule, John Mullins, Tom Mullins, Rick Munroe, Tony Nackley, Mike Nervi, Alan Niebur, Roy Niendorf, Shelley Nott, Danny O'Bryen, Riley O'Connor, Andy o'Toole, Richard Owens, Steve Owens, Tim Pace, Benoit Paille, Paul Parker, Geoff Parnaby, Charlie Passerelli, Bruno Pelle, John Petrus, Carl Petzelt, Lea Pisacane, Lou Pomanti, John Popowycz, Melanie Posey, Al Posner, Danny Powers, Alberto Pozzetti, Andy Preston, John Quinton, Jonathan Quitt, Joshua Rahalski, Jo Ravitch, Martin Ray, John Reding, Bob Reetz, Marc Renault, John Renner, Craig Renwick, Jimmy "Joe" Rhodes, Jack Richard, Jacques Richard, Sebastien Richard, Mark Richardson, Shawn Richardson, Kevin Ripa, Jerry Ritter, Peter Rollo, Bob Ross, Mike Rowland, Russ Ryan, Dimo Safari, Ron Sagnip, Deborah Samuel, Ty Saunders, Russ Schlagbaum, Richard Schoenfeld, Uwe Scholz, Dan Schrieber, Reid Schulte-Derne, Martin Schulz, Frank Scilingo, Gordon Scott, Greg Scott, Robert Scovill, Andrew Seabeck, Bob See, Warren Seyffert, Terry Shamrell, Mark Shane, Cliff Sharpling, Danny Shelnut, Richard Sibbald, Mike Sinclair, Arv Slabosevicius, Russell Sladek, Norm Sliwa, Dave Smith, Harry Smith, Bill Snawder, Richard Snipes, Sean Son Hing, Chris Sorensen, Leonard Southwick, Steve Spillman, Jeff Spinks, Bill Spoon, Craig Spredeman, Kurtis Springer, Matthew Stahlhut, Norm Stangl, Jim Staniforth, John Stanmore, David Steinberg, George Steinert, John Stephenson, David Stogner, Jack Stone, Ruke Subourne, Jim Swartz, Lonnie Sweet, Hugh Syme, Greg Szoba, Daniel Taake, Hugo Tardif, Deborah Taylor, Lee Tenner, Steve Thurston, C.J. Titterington III, Glen Tonsor, Marc Tooch, Norma "Crankbunny" Toraya, Steve Tuck, Matthew Tucker, Mick Tyas, Howard "Herns" Ungerleider, Douglas Vaillant, Phil Valdivia, Peter Van Dam, David Vancil, Tim Varaday, Pete Varco, Kim Varney, Lance Vaughn, Malcolm Vayro, Mike Vetter, Rich Vinyard, John Virant, Marsha Vlasic, Larry Vodopivec, Terry Ward, Neil Warnock, Marla Wax-Ferguson, Nigel Webber, Ethan Weber, Allan Weinrib, Mike Weiss, Tim Wendt, Lorne "Gump" Wheaton, John Whitehead, Stan Whittaker, Tom Whittaker, Terry Wieland, Jeff Wiesner, Julian Wilkes, Phil Wilkey, Ed Wilson, Scott Wilson, Steve Wilson, Julian Winters, Randy Wolters, Gary Workman, Bill Worsham, Bob Wright, Barry Zeagman, Neil Zeagman

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In Memorium
NEIL PEART
Pratt / The Professor
1952 - 2020