Rush? Naw, I'll just walk

I’m going to make a bold assertion, and it is one that absolutely no one but the truly ignorant will agree with. It’s going to be devoid of any meaning, completely unquantifiable, and simultaneously 100% accurate and completely myopic and wrong.

Rush sucks.

At this point, let me introduce myself. I am an older brother of the webMASTER of this particular blog, and he has asked me to provide music coverage for this nerdiest of all nerdy web forums. I am going to position myself as one at once all-knowledgable about music and an expert at the social phenomena that is the Nerd. I am neither of these things, of course, so I’ve decided on a moniker that reflects my tangential appreciation of the nerdy, as well as illuminating my pomposity and general ineptitude. I am Sir Simon Milligan. (Google: Kids in the Hall + Sir Simon. Thank me later.)

Back to my original assertion: Rush sucks. Do me a favor. If you’re having a meaningful conversation with someone about rock and roll (and I sincerely hope you often do), bring up Rush. If your companion simply utters the words, “Rush sucks,” you know you’re talking to someone who: A) has no knowledge of rock and roll, and whose opinion is thus meaningless; B) has no interest in talking about Rush, and has just told you so in a mildly rude way; or C) is dismissive of what Rush is, which is talented, epic, wonky prog rock. In any of the previous cases, you may safely excuse yourself from the conversation and find someone who may have some insight.

Because Rush doesn’t suck. They are the epitome of progressive rock, at least on the west side of the Atlantic.

A quick primer on progressive rock: Primarily in the 70’s there emerged a faction of rock and roll that focused on the mystical, the fantastic, the epic, and the ancient. Its spiritual father was Led Zeppelin, a band whose infatuation with Celtic myth, Crowleyan occultism, and the works of Tolkien found its way into its proto-metal sound on many occasions. However, the true color-bearers of progressive rock would come after. Bands like the Moody Blues, Yes, and Jethro Tull would sing of journeys, dragons, epic sea voyages, knights on horseback, and other Arthurian fodder. What’s more, the music was sweeping, orchestral, and longwinded, much like the stories they were telling. There were sometimes costumes, sometimes props, even instruments rarely before seen in a rock context (the flute! How bad is that?).

When progressive rock crossed the pond into the new world, there was little fanfare and even fewer bands worth listening to. Kansas’ Leftoverture was prog rock at its finest, as at home in the heartland of America as it would have been on the foggy moors of Scotland. Kansas was an outlier, though. American prog rock was a nonstarter. Styx’s laughable attempts would find its rightful death rattle as a one-off gag on South Park, with Eric Cartman unable to function with his life until he’d heard the entirety of “Come Sail Away.”

But Rush was a different beast altogether. Hailing from Canada, they sang of more modern themes, but the epic feel of the music was still there. The reason I chose Rush for this investigation, however, is the fact that Rush added two nerdy elements to their sound that has made them perhaps the most divisive band in rock history.

The first of these is mathematics. Much of prog rock focused on the instrumentation and the story they were telling. Rush, however, played around with song structure, key signature, and most assuredly, rhythm. Neil Peart is, without a doubt, one of the greatest living rock drummers, and perhaps one of the greatest percussionists of all time. His technical skill at his instrument is unparalleled. It was his ability to switch between time signatures and rhythmic riffs that gave an odd structure to Rush’s songs, making them at once singular and difficult to access by your average rock fan.

The second element is virtuosity. At the time of Rush’s heyday, the ability to play one’s instrument was no longer a necessity to be popular, or indeed awesome. Since Mozart, one needed to be able to play an instrument and do it well to craft music with any sort of success. In the 50’s, rock and roll was being taken over by Buddy Holly, Bill Haley, and Little Richard, men who were competent at their instruments, but were not making anything very complex. The 60’s and 70’s saw a return to talented songsmiths stroking their egos on stage with sprawling solos. A 10 minute guitar solo, Clapton? A 15 minute drum solo, John Bonham? Why the hell not? The rest of the band needs a pee break and another line.

It was Rush, however, that brought all of this talent that each of their members had, and put it toward the crafting of the song. Geddy Lee, competent bassist and keyboardist, wrote these challenging songs. Alex Lifeson played his solos, but his chord progressions during the actual verses of the song took incredible talent. And we’ve heard from the aforementioned Neil Peart. These are math dorks, but they want the equation to work, so they’ll work night and day until it’s right.

But this, unfortunately, is where people truly disagree about whether Rush is any good. There are no casual fans of Rush. Not one. There are but people who accept Rush for who they are and move on with their lives, and the fanatics. While there is no middle ground, there is also no angry, dismissive hatred of Rush.

Your fanatic will espouse forever the epic perfection that is Rush. They will scream of their awesomeness from the rooftops. They will entertain no contradictory opinion. These fanatics, invariably, tend to be nerds themselves. I’ve known quite a few, and I hope that they would cop to being nerdy, or even wear it as a badge of pride. I mean it not as a dig. They appreciate the talent that is required to craft such intricate, technically perfect songs, and they also enjoy the sound.

Your middle-of-the-road, blasé rock listener, however, doesn’t hate Rush. Because it’s quite simply not possible. It’s not rational. If Rush isn’t your sound, then it’s not. Very little is going to change that. If you listen to one song by Rush, all the way through, then you’ve experienced Rush for at least 4 or 5 minutes. If you weren’t gripped, then you weren’t, and you most likely never will be. But to listen to Rush and utterly dismiss them is not the intelligent thing to do. Like one can listen to a piece by Phillip Glass and recognize the brilliance of the craft while having no interest in listening to it anymore, such it is with Rush.

For my part, I appreciate Rush. I don’t like them. When “Tom Sawyer” comes on the radio, I don’t turn it off. I listen to the subtle changes in rhythm of the drums, the synthesizer, and I smile knowing that music like this exists. There are musicians who are making music for the sake of making it more complex. These are artists. And Rush can be felt throughout rock and roll to this day, inspiring math-metal acts like Meshuggah, or even the New Wave of Devo.

But I appreciate Rush for another reason entirely. A scene near the end of that outstanding coming of age film “SLC Punk” found the two punk rock protagonists playing Dungeons and Dragons in the basement, years before the story of the film took place. One of them meticulously sets up the board, and Rush is playing on the tape deck. The other comes into the room, and he says, “This music sucks.” The main character springs to their defense, espousing the talent that Rush has, “the songs are very complex!” The other kid can’t help but agree, but he takes the tape out and puts in a different tape. From that tape comes “Kiss Me Deadly” by Generation X. Punk rock.

The excess of the 70’s gave rise to the “rip it up, start over” zeitgeist that would become punk. And Rush was a very big part of that. The rise of the math geek in Rush became the rise of the social misfit in punk rock. I am very grateful.

But, you know. Rush sucks. And Rush rocks. And don’t believe anyone who tells you different.