My Three Prodigal Sons
In the beginning...
This post is a eulogy of sorts. The particular persons eulogized are not dead, but in many ways they are dead to me. These three individuals are the guys who make up the rock band Rush. I discovered them in 1976 when I was 16-years old and at a critical point in my life. Their music, more especially the brilliant lyrics and most especially the content of the lyrics, held enough sanity to tide me over until I could find my philosophical and spiritual "legs".
Regrettably, one's heroes almost inevitably let you down. So it is in this case.
For about 10 years the boys cranked out album after album of first-rate stuff. I didn't know the phrase at the time, but I've since learned that they were considered Progressive Rock. If you're as ignorant now as I was then, Progressive Rock is characterized generally by long compositions, complex music, more intellectual themes (Greek, Roman, and Norse mythology are common), and series of related songs that tell a particular story or make a particular point or entire albums dedicated to a theme.
I found this to be a welcome break from the typical rock song topics of drinkin', smokin', tokin', and screwin'. It was different and Rush did it better than anybody.
Suddenly, in the early- to mid-eighties came a couple of albums that I dubbed "The Bad Attitude" albums: Grace Under Pressure and Power Windows. I wrote them off with the thought that "they can't all be winners". Little did I know then that they time would come when I would consider those albums as "not too bad". Despite this I continued buying their albums.
In 2004 the boys went on their 30th anniversary tour, which I caught in Dallas, making it the 4th time I had seen them in concert. Why would I go? Why would I keep buying albums that I would listen to once or twice then throw in the back seat for the next three years? Blind faith. I was convinced that nobody who could put out albums like 2112, Fly By Night, Caress of Steel, Moving Pictures, Signals, etc, could possibly stay in a slump forever.
Well, faith is often a dangerous thing to have, as it was in this case. The slump was not a slump. It was, in fact, the new reality. Long gone are the upbeat and encouraging songs of the past, songs about the sanctity of individual rights, the evils of collectivism and coercive egalitarianism, self-discipline, the battle between emotion and reason (with a favorable outcome no less), etc. These were replaced by the tiredest of rock music cliches done moderately well. Exalting topics gave way to hackneyed themes which essentially were: nuclear weapons are bad, big business is bad, patriotism is bad, nationalism is bad, multiculturalism is good, globalism is good, a nation's flag is just a rag, internationalism is good, etc, ad nauseum. Best of all, after producing one of the most brilliant works ever to laud reason, now the boys are playing up mysticism. It's a good thing I'm not the suicidal type.
The take home lesson here: they've sucked for twice as long as they were awesome.
I decided to give their newer stuff one more try. I dug the latter CDs out from under my car seat, out of my closet, and I even found a couple in my garage at the bottom of a milk crate filled with leaking oil bottles. I thought, perhaps, that they might be an acquired taste, so I have played them for weeks continuously as I've driven about in my car. Tragically, my plan backfired. The more I played them, the more they annoyed and angered me.
Regrettably, one's heroes almost inevitably let you down. So it is in this case.
For about 10 years the boys cranked out album after album of first-rate stuff. I didn't know the phrase at the time, but I've since learned that they were considered Progressive Rock. If you're as ignorant now as I was then, Progressive Rock is characterized generally by long compositions, complex music, more intellectual themes (Greek, Roman, and Norse mythology are common), and series of related songs that tell a particular story or make a particular point or entire albums dedicated to a theme.
I found this to be a welcome break from the typical rock song topics of drinkin', smokin', tokin', and screwin'. It was different and Rush did it better than anybody.
Suddenly, in the early- to mid-eighties came a couple of albums that I dubbed "The Bad Attitude" albums: Grace Under Pressure and Power Windows. I wrote them off with the thought that "they can't all be winners". Little did I know then that they time would come when I would consider those albums as "not too bad". Despite this I continued buying their albums.
In 2004 the boys went on their 30th anniversary tour, which I caught in Dallas, making it the 4th time I had seen them in concert. Why would I go? Why would I keep buying albums that I would listen to once or twice then throw in the back seat for the next three years? Blind faith. I was convinced that nobody who could put out albums like 2112, Fly By Night, Caress of Steel, Moving Pictures, Signals, etc, could possibly stay in a slump forever.
Well, faith is often a dangerous thing to have, as it was in this case. The slump was not a slump. It was, in fact, the new reality. Long gone are the upbeat and encouraging songs of the past, songs about the sanctity of individual rights, the evils of collectivism and coercive egalitarianism, self-discipline, the battle between emotion and reason (with a favorable outcome no less), etc. These were replaced by the tiredest of rock music cliches done moderately well. Exalting topics gave way to hackneyed themes which essentially were: nuclear weapons are bad, big business is bad, patriotism is bad, nationalism is bad, multiculturalism is good, globalism is good, a nation's flag is just a rag, internationalism is good, etc, ad nauseum. Best of all, after producing one of the most brilliant works ever to laud reason, now the boys are playing up mysticism. It's a good thing I'm not the suicidal type.
The take home lesson here: they've sucked for twice as long as they were awesome.
I decided to give their newer stuff one more try. I dug the latter CDs out from under my car seat, out of my closet, and I even found a couple in my garage at the bottom of a milk crate filled with leaking oil bottles. I thought, perhaps, that they might be an acquired taste, so I have played them for weeks continuously as I've driven about in my car. Tragically, my plan backfired. The more I played them, the more they annoyed and angered me.
The famous Starman
(described by Neil Peart
as the abstract man
(described by Neil Peart
as the abstract man
against the collective)
Stewing about this at work, I had a couple of thoughts about the subject that rhymed in head. Since my job consists mostly of two things, waiting for something terrible to happen and praying that it doesn't, I set to jotting my thoughts down. In about 45 minutes I had whipped out the poem/song below, which I think is fairly good for 45 minutes work. If you ever come across somebody using it, let me know so I can sue them.
Ahem,
Stewing about this at work, I had a couple of thoughts about the subject that rhymed in head. Since my job consists mostly of two things, waiting for something terrible to happen and praying that it doesn't, I set to jotting my thoughts down. In about 45 minutes I had whipped out the poem/song below, which I think is fairly good for 45 minutes work. If you ever come across somebody using it, let me know so I can sue them.
Ahem,
Requiem for Rush
I always wanted to be
A player in a band
But I play no instruments
And can't sing worth a damn
But things aren't as tragic
As they might seem to be
Neil's and the boy's magic
Performed it all for me
I journeyed with Geddy
To the Fountain of Lamneth
The mountain views were heady
And snatched away my breath
Alex and his guitars
Sent me into space
Pounding metal pulsars
Praised the human race
Neil's percussion is ever
Making the music ignite
Lyrics always so clever
His content's erudite
After eleven good years
We said, "What the hell?"
'Twas the album always feared
Would shatter the sacred spell
It's been over twenty years
I'll have to face the facts
They jumped the shark in '85
And they're never coming back
I always wanted to be
A player in a band
But I play no instruments
And can't sing worth a damn
But things aren't as tragic
As they might seem to be
Neil's and the boy's magic
Performed it all for me
I journeyed with Geddy
To the Fountain of Lamneth
The mountain views were heady
And snatched away my breath
Alex and his guitars
Sent me into space
Pounding metal pulsars
Praised the human race
Neil's percussion is ever
Making the music ignite
Lyrics always so clever
His content's erudite
After eleven good years
We said, "What the hell?"
'Twas the album always feared
Would shatter the sacred spell
It's been over twenty years
I'll have to face the facts
They jumped the shark in '85
And they're never coming back
