Hard Times Cause Rush to Stumble but not Fall

By Marcia Manna, Copyright, The San Diego Union-Tribune

No one would have blamed Rush for calling it quits after facing the most daunting challenge of its 27-year career.

But the Canadian power rock trio, which includes drummer Neil Peart, bassist-vocalist Geddy Lee and guitarist Alex Lifeson, surprised itself and its fans by releasing "Vapor Trails" in May.

It's the group's 17th studio album and a testimony to lasting friendship, overcoming adversity and getting a fresh start by renewing time-worn talent.

In 1997, Peart's 19-year-old daughter, Selena, was killed in an automobile accident. His wife, Jackie, died of cancer 10 months later. The group went into a collective shock and mourned Peart's loss.

"It was a difficult period to wade through," said Lee by phone from Toronto, a stop on the tour that comes to Chula Vista's Coors Amphitheater Wednesday.

"It was a time that led to a lot of self-examination and it set us all catapulting and free-falling into a dark, dark time. We all had to deal with that and put on the bravest face we could for Neil, and try to help him survive."

During the five years that followed, Lee and Lifeson immersed themselves in solo projects. Peart got on a motorcycle and drove through his grief, occasionally sending postcards to his band mates as he traveled cross country, from Alaska to Mexico. The future of Rush was placed on a back burner while its members followed separate paths.

Then Lee's manager received a call from Peart, who expressed an interest in discussing work.

"It really was his initial phone call that got us all together again. He was feeling more positive about his life and felt he had a direction."

In 2001, the group met on a cold January day in Canada and started writing new material. With the help of co-producer Paul Northfield, who engineered the group's "Signals" and "Moving Pictures" albums in the 1980s and assisted Peart on his two all-star album tributes to drum legend Buddy Rich, Rush merged its technical proficiency with new-found emotional depth.

"We were friends, and whether the band existed or not was another subject," said Lee. "We had, in a way, passed that test with each other. When we got together on a working level, there was a lot of spirit in the room." Though Rush has sold 35 million records and every album has charted gold or platinum, its sound is an acquired taste, a fact members readily admit.

"Our music is nothing if not idiosyncratic," reads Peart's liner notes for "Vapor Trails."

Rush is a paradox a hard-driving power trio that merges poetic, sometimes obtuse lyrics with prog-rock-inspired virtuosity and complex song structures.

Though now well into their 40s, a time when many concert acts are happy to resign themselves to nostalgia-fueled tours, Rush devoted more than a year to creating new material for its latest album.

"Vapor Trails" was met with critical acclaim, and the band's tour has been extended until the end of the year. The album not only serves as a vehicle for cementing an already loyal fan base, it's also attracting a new generation of fans.

"I get the sense there is something in our music that has connected with them, helped them, or provided some kind of escape at a very important time in their life," Lee said of Rush fans. "The result is some sort of loyal gratitude. It's shockingly changing a really diverse group. I see people out there with their kids, much like what the old Grateful Dead crowds were like. It spans time."