Rush Returns with a Treat for the Fans

By Michael D. Clark/Dave Rossman/copyright 2002 Houston Chronicle

It's unfair that FM radio has rendered nearly every rock star over the age of 40 unworthy of airplay. Unfair to teenagers and young adults who worship the surround-sound precision Rush helped create, but who were not on hand Friday at the the Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion to see it live. Were there more "oldies" stations still playing Rush's Freewill and Limelight, rock fans not born when the Canadian art-rockers started building beats might have seen where bands like Tool and Nine Inch Nails derive inspiration.

Heed this call the next time Rush comes through town: Go see them. The group's 30-year evolution from blues-breakdowns to high-concept guitar and bass beat scores is as essential to rock 'n' roll history as the Who or Led Zeppelin.

This tour is the first in more than five years for Rush. Following the deaths of drummer Neil Peart's daughter in a 1997 car accident and his wife to cancer a year later, Rush took a much needed break from recording and the road. The spell gave Peart time to heal and the rest of the band -- singer/bassist Geddy Lee and guitarist Alex Lifeson -- a chance to write and reflect.

The downtime was a creative oasis that produced Vapor Trails, a personal and less technically reliant 17th studio album that is Rush's best studio work since 1989's Presto. It also allowed the creation of a three-hour live show representing every album the band has released since 1974 except two (Caress of Steel and Hold Your Fire). Rush called the assembled crowd of 30- and 40-somethings to order promptly at 8 p.m. with the warp-drive opening chords of Tom Sawyer.

Known primarily for early tales of mysticism or techno-meets-raw energy of its early '80s peak, the group is not often noted for its sense of humor. The normal seriousness made Rush's only stage props, three laundry dryers rotating with clothes, a constant source of confusion and amusement. A roadie would appear occasionally to feed the machines some quarters, but the artists gave them little attention. They were too busy rolling through two 70-minute sets (split by an intermission) and 28 songs that fit together like Rush's whole career was one big concept catalog.

Lee's shoulder-length hair was frizzing in the damp air, but the 49-year-old's voice still sounded crisp and helium high on Distant Early Warning. The digital craftwork of New World Man was made nine years before the easy hook of the next selection, Roll the Bones. Connected under the guidance of Peart's steady bass and rolling snare, they felt like two different parts of the same man's journey.

Rush's attention to live arrangements is what propels it above most choreography and video-driven shows today. Lifeson's guitar shots on YYZ sound as vital today as they did in the '80s while Lee quietly added modern touches with funky bass flicks. Some could have quibbled that hits like Spirit of Radio and A Passage to Bangkok weren't played.

Those who would should be thankful to have seen rarely played early work like By-Tor and the Snow Dog and Cygnus X-1. Composed as if they were accessories to novels by J.R.R. Tolkein and Isaac Asimov, these songs may never see the concert stage again. During a break, Rush members emptied the dryers of newly fluffed concert T-shirts onto the front rows. Everyone else had to make do with seeing one of the best shows of the summer.