Fin Costello/Redferns
Rush fans are notorious geeks. I should know because I was one. As a teenager, I loved Rush, a trio in which all three members were virtuosos: Geddy Lee on bass and vocals, underrated Alex Lifeson on guitar and the extraordinary Neil Peart, often considered to be the best drummer in rock — at least from a technical standpoint — behind the kit.
I’ve been thinking about Rush more since last October, when they announced a 2026 tour. They’ll perform at Desert Diamond Arena in Glendale in December, but the tour kicks off tonight, June 7, at the Kia Forum in Inglewood, California.
Rush wasn’t like other bands, and that’s one reason why I liked them so much. While other rock stars indulged in the hedonistic world of groupies and drugs, Rush members stayed in their hotel rooms and read books. To me, that was cool, maybe because I was a big-time reader, too. My friends were into Van Halen, Motley Crue and other groups that I didn’t relate to. Sleaze just wasn’t my thing.
Rush had substance. Songs like “Closer to the Heart” and “Cinderella Man” touched me in a way that other rock songs hadn’t. Sometimes they gave me chills, sometimes they produced tears. The lyrics were thought-provoking and humanistic. This was a band who cared about people, as I did. Their albums “Permanent Waves” (1980) and “Moving Pictures” (1981) remain two of the best hard rock albums of all time. “Freewill” captured my feelings about religion perfectly. So many of the songs on these albums held a special meaning for me. I even loved “YYZ,” an instrumental track that showcases the band’s exceptional virtuosity.
As the ’80s progressed, however, they moved to a more synth-based sound. “Signals” (1982) was a solid album, and it included another brilliant song, “Subdivisions,” that I related to deeply (“Conform or be cast out”). But it also signified the beginning of the end of my fascination with Rush. With each new release, I felt less connected to them and gradually lost interest — but not before seeing them in concert.
Seeing Rush live
I saw Rush play Veterans Memorial Coliseum in Phoenix in February 1988. Even though my interest in them had peaked by that time, I was still buying their albums and I was definitely stoked about seeing them live for the first time ever.
The arena was packed with dudes. If my memory serves me correctly, it was like a 99-to-1 male-to-female ratio. It probably wasn’t really that lopsided, but believe me — it was totally dude-centric.
Before the show started, I remember one stunning, well-endowed woman with long blonde hair in a gold sequined dress walking along the mezzanine level accompanied by some shlub. It seemed like every single guy in the stands fell silent and watched her saunter to her seat — a sea of heads slowly turning in unison to gaze at this gorgeous gazelle. From one side to the other she strolled, eventually taking a seat about a dozen rows directly behind me.
Then the cheers started, whistles and catcalls clearly aimed at her. She stood up and curtseyed. The mass of men went wild. She stood up again, but this time she gave them something extra. She pulled down the top of her dress and shimmied, giving her bare breasts a jiggle. One cad who’d been sitting a couple rows behind us got up and barged toward the woman, barreling over seatbacks. He lumbered up to the woman and gave her glands a squeeze, then turned around and pumped his fists in the air while some cheered him on. She laughed it off while her escort sat meekly, watching this creep grope his companion.
The show itself was the loudest concert I’d ever been to. The decibel levels had been pushed to the point of pain, which made it impossible for me to enjoy the show. So, after all the anticipation of seeing Rush in concert, I ended up hating it. I don’t even remember what songs they did or any highlights from the show because I was too disturbed by the extreme volume.
In hindsight, that event felt like the end of my Rush phase — not because the band failed me, but because the moment had simply passed.
Back in the limelight
Last October, Lee and Lifeson announced that they were reuniting as Rush for their Fifty Something Tour with Anika Nilles, a 42-year-old German drum virtuoso replacing Peart, who died the first week of 2020. Nilles toured with the Jeff Beck Group in 2022 but did not grow up listening to Rush.
Since the band hasn’t released any new material since 2012’s “Clockwork Angels” or played any shows in over a decade, they’re likely to perform a career-spanning retrospective of their best material: “Tom Sawyer,” “The Spirit of Radio,” “Fly by Night,” “Time Stand Still,” “Show Don’t Tell,” “Limelight” and more hard rock radio staples from among their 19 studio albums.
A new chapter for rock’s brainiest band
Thankfully, rock bands no longer take pride in deafening audiences, so you probably don’t need to worry about mega-wattage damaging your hearing this time around. And you can damn well bet that I’m going to be there in Phoenix in December — not to relive the past so much as to see what remains of a band that once made me feel understood and helped shape me into the person I am today.
‘ The preceding article may include information circulated by third parties ’
‘ Some details of this article were extracted from the following source www.phoenixnewtimes.com ’
