Working man: Neil peart and the genesis of Rush’s lyricism
By Grace Roberts
The creation story of Canadian band Rush is riddled with member turnover and rocky relationships. Yet, in almost fifty years of existence, they have maintained a place amongst the most hallowed rock bands in history, primarily due to their ability to colour outside the lines of tradition, and the musical mastery of Geddy Lee, Neil Peart, and Alex Leifson. But the origins of their lyricism, revered by fans and scorned by critics, are a little murkier.
Rush’s distinct science-fiction and futurism aesthetic originated with Neil Peart, the drummer who joined the band as a replacement shortly before their first US tour. After Lee wrote the band’s first full-length album, Rush, he handed the reins to Peart, claiming that the drummer had a wider vocabulary because of his love of literature. From that moment on, Peart penned the lyrics to every Rush epic, perfecting the narrative tone that accompanied his prodigal drumming skills.
Peart’s gravitation towards science-fiction and fantasy bled into his songwriting, filling subsequent albums with distinctly fantastical content. There’s a reason why Rush has a niche subgenre of superfan particularly attached to lore and fantasy: many of their lyrics feel lifted from the pages of a Tolkien or Gibson tome. Mythology, science-fiction, and philosophy were integral elements of Peart’s writing; wells he often returned to with questions or insight, unafraid of unconventionality.
Isolated, Peart’s lyrics sound more suited to pieces of poetry, as if he was writing pages of fiction as opposed to songs. Their length corroborates this; one would be hard-pressed to find a song under four minutes, and far more likely to find one in the ballpark of twenty. Albums resemble sagas, with the songs acting as volumes that work in tandem to recount epic tales. ‘Red Barchetta’ is like a bildungsroman in song form, complete with climax and denouement. Peart assumes the role of lyrical alchemist, pulling from his literary knowledge and crafting new tales that speak to the misfits and the marginalised.
The claim that Rush’s lyricism is iconic is not, however, a universally accepted sentiment. Many argue that Peart’s personal worldview, atypical views on religion, social order, and philosophy, unnecessarily complicate his lyrics. Even more believe that Rush’s songs simply don’t make sense. The latter isn’t entirely incorrect; ‘2112’ is a twenty-minute number featuring a convoluted narrative about the Temple of Syrinx (Oracles! Priests! A computerised government!). Much is unclear. But there remains something thrilling and admirable about it. How much of a challenge must it have been to record? Rush completes the daunting task with grace, even under pressure.
Peart’s lyrics have always been strikingly human, regardless of whether the subject is fantasy or reality. He has an innate ability to touch on the cornerstones of the human condition, the growing pains of the young and unmoored. There is value in the confusion. Much of songwriting is borne out of experience, and many of Peart’s stories come from a place of truth. The genesis of good lyricism is belief. Conviction in your writing, regardless of whether it is fact or fiction, gives it an edge above everything else. Accordingly, many Rush lyrics reflect Peart’s opinions on religion, philosophy, and society, and songs like ‘Limelight’ specifically comment on his personal life. Albums like Power Windows were received less favourably, but they remain cult classics because they emulate not something mythical or dystopian, but an earnestness; a “I’ve been there, I get it.” This sentiment from Peart does not go unnoticed, or unappreciated.
Progression is a theme for Rush in every sense. Beyond the umbrella of rock, Rush shrugs off labels, choosing instead to favour a natural progression of genre. Initially rooted in blues-inspired rock, the band found their progressive groove with Hemispheres and Permanent Waves. As their sound grew more complex, so did their lyrics, moving from the mythology of Farewell to Kings into realism on Moving Pictures. Influenced by trending sounds and popular influences, Power Windows and Hold Your Fire subsequently gave way to a heavier side of Rush in albums like Vapor Trails and Clockwork Angels. Sonically, Rush spans vast eras of time and genre, but through it all, their lyricism has remained steadfast.
Neil Peart passed away two years ago, leaving behind a lyrical and musical legacy beyond what most modern artists have accomplished - up until his death, he was considered by many to be the best drummer alive. Rush will go down in history as not only one of the great rock bands, but as a group that defied the laws of music and created magic through song and storytelling. Unafraid to grow, they never broke away from their origins, but constantly expanded upon them, making a name for themselves by way of evolution.
Songs all start from somewhere, and Peart’s ability to blend human truths with fictional narratives is the provenance of Rush’s genius. Working together in perfect harmony, Lee, Peart, and Leifson mastered the art of intersecting sound and storytelling through teamwork. This synthesis is the true testament to their success and the music they have created together. They all possess a little bit of magic with their respective instruments, but for Peart in particular? His magic touch is not confined to how he handles a drumstick - he is equally as talented with a pen.