Drum icon Peart shy, private to the end
After every concert, Neil Peart, drummer and lyricist for legendary Canadian rock trio Rush, would run from the stage, hop onto his motorcycle and ride off to wherever the band was playing next. Bandmates Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson would stick around, mingle with fans and gradually make their way to the tour bus to begin the journey to the next venue. But not Peart. He’d run to his bike and hit the road — usually backroads, too.
Riding recharged him, Peart, whose Jan. 7 death from brain cancer was announced Friday, wrote in his travelogues. Riding gave him a way to see the places the band was touring. It also gave him privacy. Peart, who rarely spoke to the media, did admit to simply being shy, and finding it uncomfortable when Rush fans — a generally quite intense lot, myself included — told him how amazing he was.
But he was amazing — perhaps the greatest drummer in history. Everyone knew it, but he didn’t like to hear it. Playing in front of tens of thousands of fans wasn’t a big deal, but a compliment? That wasn’t for him.
Peart, born in Hamilton in 1952 and raised in St. Catharines, joined the band for their second album as drummer and primary writer. The trio played together for the next four decades. Peart’s lyrics, philosophical and often rooted in hard sci- fi concepts, were unlike anything else that was out there. Rock fans attracted to the band’s incredible musicianship sometimes found the lyrics impenetrable. This was memorably skewered on the hit Canadian comedy Trailer Park Boys, in an episode where character Ricky, before kidnapping Lifeson, laments that Rush has “lyrics about how trees are talking to each other, and how different sides of your brain works, and outer space bullshit.”
For Rush fans, it was all part of the appeal. Rush didn’t just sing songs. They sang stories. The band was a popular and commercial hit steadily through the 1970s, ’80s and early ’ 90s, churning out albums at a remarkable pace. The band released 15 albums in the 21 years between Peart joining for 1975’s Fly by Night and 1996’s Test for Echo — the last album before twin tragedies in Peart’s life put the band’s future in doubt. In August of 1997, Peart’s daughter Selena and ( then) only child, aged 19, died in a car crash on Ontario’s Highway 401. Less than a year later, Jacqueline Taylor, Selena’s mother, died as well. The official cause of death was cancer, but Peart said later that it was fairer to say she died of a broken heart, not having any interest in fighting her illness.
Peart told his bandmates that he was finished with music. He locked up his house, got on his motorcycle and started riding, without any particular destination in mind. He travelled almost 90,000 kilometres, with stops as far north as Alaska and as far south as Belize, and wrote a book about the experience — Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road. When he finally returned to Canada, he was ready to return to work with Rush ( the resulting album, Vapour Trails, was released in 2001). The always shy Peart became even more private after his return, not having any interest in being constantly asked about the loss of his family. He later married American photographer Carrie Nuttall, and their daughter Olivia Louise, was born in 2009.
Rush continued to perform and tour until 2015. By then, Peart, suffering from tendinitis and shoulder problems, felt that he could no longer play at the level he expected of himself. The band’s final tour, in the spring and summer of 2015, included two shows in Toronto ( this journalist made a point of attending one of them). Rush officially disbanded and retired in 2018, but the three band members stayed in touch, and were consistent when asked about the band’s future — Rush was finished, having done, in 41 years, all they wished to.
There had been speculation that Peart was unwell, but no indication that his life was in danger — just his ability to play three- hour rock concerts. The news that he had died this week was a shock to millions of fans around the world.
But it shouldn’t have been. Peart liked to slip out of his concerts without drawing any attention so he could ride off on his own, finding his centre again. It’s no surprise he chose to exit this life the same way.
Neil Peart was 67.