I Love Rock, Classic Rock, Or Rock N Roll
I'VE NEVER BEEN A FAN OF RUSH.
Throughout my life, their music has always been around: hits on the radio and music videos, friends who were big fans, so I've heard a lot of it. I've read that when it comes to Rush most people either love them or hate them. But I've always been one of those rare middle ground listeners who said, "Eh, they're OK." As I grew older and became a musician myself, it was easy to recognize the obvious talent of the three individuals who comprised this band. Musically, they were masters of their craft. My friends who were big Rush fans would play the albums for me and question how, after hearing it, I wasn't simply blown away by the music; how I couldn't comprehend the sheer genius of these compositions; how, having heard them, I could possibly not rank Rush as the greatest of all time, ever!?!
My response: "Well, they're all right." (This to the severe consternation of people who had memorized Rush setlists, who could quote tour dates and cities, who, despite never having met the band personally, claimed to know them so well as to refer to the band members by their first names and to even be able to know what they were thinking!)
I'm sorry (and, at the risk of committing true sacrilege, I also feel the same way about the Rolling Stones!), but despite being able to appreciate their musicianship, Rush has never been one of my personal favorites. Didn't hate 'em, didn't love 'em.
EXCEPT FOR ONE SONG!
"Tom Sawyer" was the one song for me that did everything my fan boy friends claimed Rush's music could do. It had groove, it had technical precision, it had spaced-out sound effects. My mind was properly blown. But, more importantly, as awesome as this song [u]sounded[/u], I connected with it on a much deeper level. Lyrically, the song reached out to me, spoke to me about the young man's travails as he journeys through the cruel world. Living through a difficult (substitute "abusive") childhood/adolescence, I NEEDED this song! I clung to this song as one of my rays of hope during dark hours.
Obviously, I am prompted to write these lines by the recent passing of Neil Peart, Rush's drummer and lyricist. While there are doubtless thousands of tributes posted which can eulogize this master musician more eloquently than I have here, I also felt that I needed to express my gratitude to this man. Not being a fan boy, I can't pretend to tell you what he thought about the song (although I've read that Geddy Lee considers it to be a defining moment in the band's career). For ME, this song is a masterpiece, one of the few "perfect" songs to have ever been recorded, and, at the risk of seeming melodramatic, without it and a few others, there is a very real chance that I might not be here today to write about it.
I work at a university, where Mr. Peart's book has been required reading for classes in grief and loss counseling (and, I imagine, will continue to be for years to come). I understand that the book emerged from his journey through personal grief and loss in his own life, but from there has reached out to become a guiding light for those in similar circumstances, and for those who counsel others in times of need. I can only believe that they will find solace, and perhaps hope, in his words, just as I found hope in his masterpiece song so many years ago. RIP, Neil Peart, and thank you. You will be missed, and your accomplishments will continue to influence us.
Throughout my life, their music has always been around: hits on the radio and music videos, friends who were big fans, so I've heard a lot of it. I've read that when it comes to Rush most people either love them or hate them. But I've always been one of those rare middle ground listeners who said, "Eh, they're OK." As I grew older and became a musician myself, it was easy to recognize the obvious talent of the three individuals who comprised this band. Musically, they were masters of their craft. My friends who were big Rush fans would play the albums for me and question how, after hearing it, I wasn't simply blown away by the music; how I couldn't comprehend the sheer genius of these compositions; how, having heard them, I could possibly not rank Rush as the greatest of all time, ever!?!
My response: "Well, they're all right." (This to the severe consternation of people who had memorized Rush setlists, who could quote tour dates and cities, who, despite never having met the band personally, claimed to know them so well as to refer to the band members by their first names and to even be able to know what they were thinking!)
I'm sorry (and, at the risk of committing true sacrilege, I also feel the same way about the Rolling Stones!), but despite being able to appreciate their musicianship, Rush has never been one of my personal favorites. Didn't hate 'em, didn't love 'em.
EXCEPT FOR ONE SONG!
"Tom Sawyer" was the one song for me that did everything my fan boy friends claimed Rush's music could do. It had groove, it had technical precision, it had spaced-out sound effects. My mind was properly blown. But, more importantly, as awesome as this song [u]sounded[/u], I connected with it on a much deeper level. Lyrically, the song reached out to me, spoke to me about the young man's travails as he journeys through the cruel world. Living through a difficult (substitute "abusive") childhood/adolescence, I NEEDED this song! I clung to this song as one of my rays of hope during dark hours.
Obviously, I am prompted to write these lines by the recent passing of Neil Peart, Rush's drummer and lyricist. While there are doubtless thousands of tributes posted which can eulogize this master musician more eloquently than I have here, I also felt that I needed to express my gratitude to this man. Not being a fan boy, I can't pretend to tell you what he thought about the song (although I've read that Geddy Lee considers it to be a defining moment in the band's career). For ME, this song is a masterpiece, one of the few "perfect" songs to have ever been recorded, and, at the risk of seeming melodramatic, without it and a few others, there is a very real chance that I might not be here today to write about it.
I work at a university, where Mr. Peart's book has been required reading for classes in grief and loss counseling (and, I imagine, will continue to be for years to come). I understand that the book emerged from his journey through personal grief and loss in his own life, but from there has reached out to become a guiding light for those in similar circumstances, and for those who counsel others in times of need. I can only believe that they will find solace, and perhaps hope, in his words, just as I found hope in his masterpiece song so many years ago. RIP, Neil Peart, and thank you. You will be missed, and your accomplishments will continue to influence us.
51-55, M
