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Democrat and Chronicle: October 17, 2002

Concert review: '70s relic Rush still crashing into future

by Jeff Spevak

As a friend said before Wednesday night's Rush concert, "Who'd a thought, after they released that album 2112, that they'd still be playing then?"

Indeed, Rush is on an improbable collision course with its own destiny: In pop music there has never seemed to be much of a future for futuristic concept albums based on the writings of Ayn Rand.

Yet here is Rush -- 27 years after the breakthrough release of 2112 -- acting as though epic-style rock compositions overplayed alongside piercing, insectoid vocals still matter.

It still matters to the 5,500 Rushians who turned out at the Blue Cross Arena at the Community War Memorial Wednesday night.  And Rush deserves some respect: With a power trio, there's no one to hide behind.

These guys can play, and have for the most part abandoned the overly slick, synthesized style that overtook the group in the late '80s.  Alex Lifeson, perhaps the most-overlooked of arena-rock guitar gods, could play with any band that needs a guy who knows how to really tear at the strings.

Lifeson can't even get respect from his own bandmates.  Rush came out as the old Three Stooges logo was flashed on the video screen; Moe's face was changed to vocalist/bassist Geddy Lee's and Larry's to drummer Neil Peart's.  Lifeson's goateed head was pasted over Curly's, but bore the name "Brad Pitt."

Rush is closely identified not so much with the pop aspects of a song like "Limelight" as with its thunderously spacey bridges.  And in space, no one can hear you scream.  Unless you are Geddy Lee, who can still hop about on one leg despite his advancing years, and whose voice still soars around some distant asteroid belt that's cinched up a bit too tight.

Opening with "Tom Sawyer," the trio stretched out with a few nimble solos on its most-familiar song, but "New World Man" a few moments later got a straightforward delivery.

New material during the three-hour show included "Earthshine" from this summer's release, Vapor Trails, very much in the wirewalking Rush tradition, while Lifeson added distinctly modern ringing guitar on "Ceiling Unlimited" and some nice Eastern/Uranus guitar during a long instrumental.

The bombastic Peart's manic, constantly shifting tempos owe more to Buddy Rich than Keith Moon, highlighted by a show-stopping solo that ended with Peart playing along with a tape of vintage big-band jazz.

More than disco, Rush is a soundtrack for the late '70s, with Lee in his long hair and tea shades looking like a detoxified Ozzy Osbourne.

While many rock bands, concerned with drooping sales, have been tempted to experiment with World Music and hip-hop, Rush has remained happily static.  Perhaps this isn't a good thing for such talented musicians.  Growth was good for the Beatles.

Rush's vision of the rapidly approaching future was augmented on the sparse stage by green lasers cutting across the darkened arena and a large video screen behind the band, filled with compelling camerawork that made watching the three guys onstage nearly impossible.

Next to Peart's extravagant drum kit were three coin-operated Laundromat-style clothes dryers, all tumbling throughout the evening.  Before the encores, Lifeson and Lee emptied them and tossed the clothes to the crowd.  Closing with "The Working Man" evidently means they're still doing their own laundry.