Still Providing a Rush


Photos: Kelly Swift, for the Orange County Register.

By BEN WENER
The Orange County Register

Had the three men of Rush done little more than amble out on stage Tuesday night at the Hollywood Bowl, tackled "Tom Sawyer" and "2112" and a few other staples, then waved good night, it would have been impressive enough.

That's hyperbole, sure, but it's justifiable. Apart from ZZ Top, which is roughly four years older, no other band beget in the '60s or '70s remains intact, let alone as popular as ever. The Stones, the Who, the Dead, Fleetwood Mac, Kiss - all have either lost members along the way or disbanded for long stretches, or both.

But Rush - bassist-vocalist Geddy Lee, guitarist Alex Lifeson and one of the most skilled drummers ever, Neil Peart - has stayed the same since the release of its 1974 debut.

Certainly there have been hurdles to cross, especially when shifting tastes have left some Rush albums dead on arrival to all but the band's die-hard following. And there have been a number of personal hardships to overcome, most tragically for Peart, who within a year lost his daughter in a car crash and his wife to cancer. That led to the group's longest period of inactivity - six years passed before 1996's "Test for Echo" was followed by "Vapor Trails" - but when Rush returned, it appeared mightier than ever, its virtuosic chops in perfect shape, its fan base expanding to embrace a whole new generation.

"I remember the first date of that last tour," Lifeson told me a few days before the Bowl gig, "and we were all going to start crying on stage, because we couldn't believe we were actually together and playing, that we had moved out of that darkness that was all about Neil's tragedy."

So what's their secret to survival?

"Fundamentally, we're just regular middle-class kids who grew up together," Lifeson says. "We enjoy our company as friends. We have a common sense of humor that keeps us laughing all the time - that seems to be the key with any successful relationship. And we find each other inspiring.

"It's such a perfect chemistry. But we know it's really unusual. You seldom find people who can work together for any length of time."

Let alone three decades. To celebrate reaching that milestone, the band decided that rather than make another full-fledged Rush record, it would embark on an anniversary tour, teased by the recent release of an EP, "Feedback," featuring remakes of late-'60s heavy-rock classics that influenced the trio.

Lifeson says the experience helped the Canadians reconnect with their initial drive.

"We've always thought of ourselves as just a rock band, with maybe progressive leanings. We were inspired by those progressive bands of the '70s from Britain, like Genesis, Yes, King Crimson, Emerson, Lake & Palmer. We looked at those bands, which tended to be more orchestral than us, and thought, 'How could we develop what we do as a hard-rock three-piece in a style more in that way?'

"But we started with the Yardbirds and Hendrix and The Who - and for that time, those were very progressive artists. What they were doing, no one was doing. That's where the seed was planted with us. And it wasn't until we went back and listened to these old songs that we really discovered how much that stuff is still in us."

Half of the tunes they covered made it into Tuesday's set, including a robust reading of the Who standard "The Seeker," an acoustic version of the Yardbirds' "Heart Full of Soul" and, to start the encore, a tear through "Summertime Blues" (à la Blue Cheer) and "Crossroads" (à la Cream).

Yet what was most impressive about the three-hour concert, which repeats Wednesday at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, was just how much Rush crammed in - especially considering the band is prone to epics, like a closing run from "La Villa Strangiato" into "Working Man" and the 11-minute "Xanadu."

Amazingly, Rush managed to perform at least one song from 17 of its 18 studio efforts, although it helped that it began with a medley of favorites from its first three albums. And the trio played supremely, regardless of the material - from flights of fancy like "By- Tor & the Snow Dog" and athletic workouts like "YYZ" to hook-filled bits like "Red Barchetta" and "Subdivisions."

Helium-voiced Lee has lost only a shred of power from his upper range, noticeable during trickier changes that would yank his attention to his bass. Lifeson continues to be one of rock's most underrated guitarists, able to soar when needed but usually grounding the group, while the more active Lee and Peart dive into polyrhythmic territory.

And the emotionless Peart, hammering away at an enveloping kit that was acoustic on one side, electronic on the other, proved yet again that he is a master. He made the most complex sticking seem easy during his engaging solo, yet he also could scale things down to essentials.

Slightly paunchier but still very fit for men in their 50s, Rush is stronger today than it has been in at least a decade. Its success, then, begs the question: Why is it not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?

"I think that's something that bugs our fans more than us," Lifeson says, noting that the Hall seems to have something against prog-rock, as only Pink Floyd (the exception to every rule) has been inducted.

"Apparently it doesn't matter that we've sold more than 40 million records and we're still the same outfit we were all those years ago. I don't know what they need. But, hey, we're still here after 30 years. That's what matters."