Rush’s Neil Peart recalled for his musicianship, lyrics
One day driving with my dad, in his 1978 Chevy Nova, I heard a song on WDIZ, a local Orlando rock station at the time, that transformed my life forever. I waited for the song to end so that I could hear the DJ announce the name of the song and the band: the song, “Tom Sawyer,” the band, Rush. I begged my dad to take me to Peaches Records so that I could buy the album, I wore that record out.
I didn’t know much about the band, but the album cover looked familiar to me. Moving Pictures was taken in front of a legislative building in Toronto’s Queen’s Park. It turns out not only was Rush from Canada, but the band was formed in the same village in Toronto where I was from, Willowdale. That connection for me was exactly what I needed. I started saving as much as I could to buy their albums, next it was Permanent Waves; then Rush, their debut album; then 2112. That album blew my mind. How could three guys make all that complex music? I was overwhelmed by their musicianship and I started to really study their lyrics in depth.
Never had words spoken to me so much. It was so complex, so well arranged, amazing, it forced me to think. Neil’s work not only transformed me musically, Neil’s lyrics molded me into much of who I am today. His lyrics didn’t tell me what I should think, they challenged me to think outside the box. His lyrics forced me to read the works of Ayn Rand and others and forced me to think at a much higher level than I had ever before.
Now anyone can listen to his drumming and instantly tell you he’s an incredible drummer, study it more closely and you’ll quickly agree what most musicians already know, he was the best rock drummer of all time, thanks to his time signatures, time changes and crossovers. His drum kit was huge and it wasn’t just for show, he hit every one of those drums with the precision of a fine tuned Ferrari, “a brilliant Red Barchetta.”
I studied every song for hours on end without even listening to the music. Neil helped form my politics, my drive to succeed. He taught me to challenge authority, to not believe everything I read or see, all from lyrics. Neil could tell a story in such a short amount of time, all the while keeping you up at night breaking down the meaning of his words.
Neil was a perfectionist, both lyrically and musically. Widely regarded as the greatest rock drummer of all time, he went back and took drum lessons because he didn’t like the way he was sounding. No mere mortal would know what he’s talking about, much less be able to hear the difference, but if it wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t comfortable going on stage or playing on a record.
He wrote many books about his life travels, about dealing with adversity as he lost both his daughter and his wife within 10 months of each other. In 2015, Neil hung it up after one final show in Los Angeles; with arthritis setting in, he felt he could no longer play at the level we all expected of him and he’d rather retire at 110% than play on at 90%.
Today we true Rush fans learned that not only did we lose our hero, but we lost someone who helped shape our lives. No other band has affected so many lives, no other musician has single-handedly influenced his followers.
The music, as incredible as it is, is just but a small piece of the bigger picture. Neil gave us much more than he took from us. Millions of drummers and lyricists will study him for generations to come, his music will live on forever and those of us who have been blessed to have lived it over the past 45 years, will forever be grateful that we got to experience it first hand. Thank you Neil, Rest In Peace, we love you!
The author lives in Orlando.