1982, my freshman year of high school, Rush was my band. I listened to every one of their albums and knew the lyrics to all of their songs – and not just popular titles like “Tom Sawyer,” “Spirit of the Radio,” or “Working Man,” but even the obscure ones like “Rivendell,” “Xanadu,” and “The Temples of Syrinx.” They were also my first concert experience: the Los Angeles Forum in 1983.
Aside from The Lord of the Rings, Rush was also my first brush with great literature, and I am not at all embarrassed for mistakenly crediting them with, “All the world’s a stage and we are merely players” (turns out it was Shakespeare).
All of Rush’s best intellectual-nerdy-fantasy-sci-fi-lyrics aside, I think the lines to “Subdivisions” from their Signals album says it best: “In the high school halls / In the shopping malls / Conform or be cast out … In the basement bars / In the backs of cars / Be cool or be cast out.”
Shit. I knew Rush and Rush knew me.
And although we began to drift apart during my sophomore year as edgier bands like Motely Crüe and Van Halen caught my attention, and even more so as I discovered New Wave and Ska, and as bands like U2, The Police, R.E.M., The Specials, The English Beat, The Fixx, Tears for Fears, and INXS began to steal my heart – Rush would always be my first band-crush.
Breaking Up Is Hard To Do…
In 1984, I decided to give my bedroom a fresh coat of beige, painting over the naked star-man from Rush’s 2112 album on my closet door.
I must have had a thing for three-piece bands.