Chapter 11
Nineteen Eighty Two was a tough year for touring rock bands. Double bills of former stadium headliners became quite common. The summer gigging season saw many groups play 10,000 seat outdoor venues instead of the 20,000 seat hockey arenas they had filled in years past.
In this atmosphere Rush prepared for the New World Tour in Green Bay, Wisconsin, at the very end of August. Band and crew spent a week getting the show into shape. Defying the economics of the day, Rush were expanding their show. Another truck full of gear was added, bringing the total to five tractor trailers, including a larger stage, more lights for Howard to use, and a bigger sound system.
On September 3, the New World Tour began in earnest. Despite the weak concert market, the show was sold-out. 'Subdivisions' was illustrated with shots of high schools and shopping malls. 'Countdown's drama was multiplied by actual film footage from NASA of the space launch. The crowd went wild, not only for the more than 900 lights Howard had to work with. (Their previous high had been 400). As Herns did his best Jon Lord imitation at the lighting board, the beams of light vectored down upon the stage. The emotion transmitted into the massive lighting rig combined with the music to create an unearthly show. Hern's signals were turning green and red and yellow, not blue, and roving searchlight beams slashed the night.
The sound system was upgraded both in size and in the way it was placed. If the production on 'Signals' was inferior, the sound on tour was not. By placing their bass bins on the floor of the arena and not on the sides of the stage, they were able to give the audience an unobstructed view of the show, and also up the bass feel in the hall. The place literally shook when heavy low end vibrations came through the crackling speakers.
After the show Neil talked about some of the changes that were taking place in the band's music and his own approach to lyric writing. Neil said he thought 'Subdivisions' hit on his own experiences of growing up and those of much of Rush's suburban audience. While he talked of feeling outside in the tense times of the 1960's and also the concurrent desire to conform, it was clear that the subject was deeply personal. At the same time he understood that some would find it hard to listen to songs that outlined their and his reality, as opposed to the ideals of, say, '2112'. "Some people would say it's a better trend in my writing, for others it's worse, but for me it is necessary."
He moved on to the band's desire to change. "When we are making a new album we are trying to make it different. We want it to sound different. We want it to affect the listener in a different way. So, therefore, experience doesn't always help you. This album took us much longer than albums in the past. There weren't any technical reasons and there weren't any personal reasons for that, just the simple fact that we wanted something different made it that much more difficult to attain... to the point where from day one we set up the equipment in a whole different manner. My drums were on the opposite side of the room from where they had been for the last two albums, because we were determined to get a different sound from the ground up.
"But I think it's also the law of diminishing returns at this point. In the beginning we started off low, so were able to improve at a greater rate. With the last three or four albums I think with all humility, we reached a certain level of confidence in our ability. And consequently the improvements and rates of change have to be in smaller increments. Once you get to a certain level, it's that much harder to extract a lesser degree of improvement. And that's basically the situation that we are in."
A situation that had required the band to spend an entire year preparing 'Signals'.
As the tour progressed, sell-out date followed sell-out date. 'New World Man' broke out on top forty radio stations, leaving Rush with their first hit single. It climbed as high as number 23. A minor hit for a fully-fledged singles band, but amazing for a group that were almost complete strangers to the format. FM airplay was a foregone conclusion.
The band were glad to be back on the road. After so long in the studio, it was liberating to be doing what they felt they did best... playing live.
The new ease came into play at a show in Milwaukee on October 9 where Geddy, during 'The Spirit Of Radio' saluted the Brewers' play-off success with a little rewrite... 'One likes to believe in the freedom of baseball.'
A three-night stand in Toronto during November saw the hometown crowd anything but blase. The shows were all sold-out, and the audience reaction enthusiastic throughout, the complete opposite of their unsuccessful Varsity Stadium gig. But Neil expressed reservations about playing Toronto... "I hate playing at home. There is so much tension in the air. People come crawling out of the woodwork for tickets and passes. 'Remember me, I was your paper-boy six years ago'."
Boys Brigade, a new wave dance band, entertained the band and their friends at an after-show party where members of Rush danced along to the latest in techno pop stylings. Geddy talked to Boys Brigade about producing their debut album. The proceeds from the third night's show were donated to UNICEF.
The band spent the rest of November and much of December playing the East Coast. What had once been one of their weakest areas was now one of their strongest. Multiple dates were played in Washington, New York and Philadelphia. The band got into Philly a day before the show, and Geddy, always the sports fanatic, went to check out the Flyers in the Spectrum where Rush would be playing the next night. Between periods the electronic scoreboard flashed RUSH IN CONCERT DECEMBER 13 AND 14... SOLD OUT. A large segment of the audience cheered, and Geddy, sitting quietly with his hair tucked under a baseball cap, gave a huge smile.
A concert review on a local radio station a day later from Bill Fantini captured the mood of the concerts. 'Another night of Rush and Rory Gallagher at the Spectrum tonight. Last night's performance was one Rush after another... computerised lights spotting and flashing... some great video on the huge screen behind them... including SCTV's Count Floyd vampire to intro the tune... 'The Weapon'... school halls and shopping malls... and backs of cars throughout 'Subdivisions'. Now I thought they were just going to show the Columbia space shuttle shooting into the air during the song 'Countdown', but they had the whole launch sequence. The show opened with 'Spirit Of Radio', 'Tom Sawyer' and 'Free-Will'... and I don't know what you were doing from 10:21 to 10:27, but Neil Peart was doing one hell of a drum solo during their encore 'YYZ'. Great show from Rush, another one coming up tonight.'
The band then took more than a month off for the holidays during which Geddy produced the debut album for the Boys Brigade. He had high hopes for the band as did Howard and Ray, their managers. But, despite a solid performance and lots of club dates, the band were never able to gain a large following. Still, it reflected Rush's growing interest in outside projects. Geddy was talking about branching out into film work. Alex had a growing obsession with flying and he occasionally said that he might like to try to act. Neil was writing articles for Modern Drummer magazine and writing fiction on the side. All three began to talk more frequently about solo projects. While they had mentioned the possibility of such work in the past, now it came up in almost every interview they did. Much of the work on 'Signals' started out as a G. Lee solo project. The band also began to express doubts about 'Signals'. The strain was starting to show.
This was apparent at a show in San Diego in February just after the holiday break where their performance was sloppy and the sound was weak. About the only part of the show that was up to their usual high standard was the lighting. However, the crowd thought they were playing a great show. After the concert the band didn't want to see anyone. So, I went back to talk to them. They asked me what I thought. I said, "Don't ask me because I'll tell you." Neil said, "That bad, huh?" We spent the rest of the night getting drunk, laughing, telling jokes and having a good time. Alex tried to drag me onto the bus which was heading for Tucson, but I couldn't go.
Even though I have seen the band many times, and expect quite a lot out of a performance, there is no one more critical than Alex, Geddy and Neil of their playing. They know when they play badly, and appreciate it when someone is willing to tell them. There is apparently nothing worse than doing a bad show and then having someone tell you that you were great. Of course, a rotten Rush concert is still better than most others.
The band continued to think about the results of 'Signals'. The more time that elapsed, the more dissatisfied they became. While sitting at the crew meal with Geddy and Ben Mink backstage at the Hollywood Sportatorium in March, Terry Brown arrived on the scene. "What are you doing here?" said Terry "He's our tour reporter," replied Geddy. Broon was down to discuss the production of the next record. It was time for a show-down. During the course of several days of meetings, it was decided that Terry would not produce the next album. He had been with the band for a decade, and had been called 'the fourth member of Rush' by the band themselves. They realised that they needed a change, but as Neil later said, it was "like cutting an umbilical cord."
"It is no easy thing to tell someone that, after all this time, you want to work with someone else for a change--and still harder to be told it. It was tough for us and tough for Terry. We have been through so much together and he has contributed so much to our development and refinement--both as people and musicians. It was awkward, difficult and a bit painful, but we had to do it or always wonder, 'what if we had?' While objectively one may recognise the right thing to do, subjectively it's sometimes too easy to rationalise the easy way out. We had to cut the umbilical cord."
Alex later told the Milwaukee Journal that... "After 'Signals' we were at a point where we wanted to know how someone else would treat our music. We had become so close with Terry that it was difficult to be unsure about anything."
Geddy told Scene magazine that... "The main problem was that we had tried so many different experiments the last few years that we lost sight of the essential Rush sound. We needed to regain our confidence and our trust..."
Whatever the artistic reasons for the change, the personal cost was high. Terry was not just a coproducer, he was a friend, and Alex, Geddy and Neil always believed in sticking behind people loyal to them. Yet, at the same time, they needed to show fidelity to the music that had brought them so far. Terry would later produce the soundtrack for a concert film of the band's performance, but he was out as their studio producer.
As their US tour came to a close, the band ended up doing a large indoor show in Syracuse, New York, and everyone was a little nervous about playing inside the massive Carrier Dome. This meant that Neil was hitting his drums even harder. The band seemed on edge most of the day. Geddy had been sick from the night before, but the show had to go on. Prior to the concert, everyone stayed out of the dressing room, except me. Neil sat cross-legged, smoking, his head buried in a book. He would occasionally glance up and laugh at Lerxst and Dirk and their ethnic imitations. The pair can be very, very funny.
It was unusual that there was no one in the band's dressing room. Most of the time the crew are in and out all night, just like a giant family. They are each other's best friends; they eat, work and travel together. Unlike certain other bands, there is no separation between Rush and their crew.
I left Alex, Geddy and Neil by saying, "It's going to be a great show; I can feel it." "Fuck off, B-Man!" they shouted back.
Despite their fears, the gig was great. Rush went over very well as more than 30,000 fans rocked out to the beat of their music.
Backstage after the show was a festive scene as the band, crew and friends partied the night away. "You were right, B-Man, it was a great show!" yelled Geddy. "Have a drink," said Neil. It was a day and night difference in attitude before and after this Syracuse show.
Next came another European tour. While in England, the band talked to a series of producers, including Steve Lillywhite, known for the distinctive sound he brought to U2, Big Country, The Psychedelic Furs and Peter Gabriel. Lillywhite agreed to work with Rush but two weeks before they were supposed to start work he backed out. The only explanation they got from his manager was that "Mr. Lillywhite has decided that he is not the right person for the job."
The band were initially taken aback. But they quickly regrouped and made up another list of possible choices. Among those they almost tried was Rupert Hine but he too backed out at the last minute.
At the end of July, Alex and Geddy travelled to New York to play at the 'Celebrity Tennis Jam' with John McEnroe and Vitas Gerulaitis, a rare opportunity to see the pair play on stage with different people.
Alex jammed with blues great Buddy Guy. Gerulaitis and McEnroe also joined in. Buddy Guy tried to cut Alex in a guitar duel but Alex was able to hold his own. Gerulaitis was not a bad guitar player. McEnroe should probably have stuck to tennis.
Next came Clarence Clemmons' band. Three or four songs into the set, Clarence introduced Geddy who strolled onto the stage, Fender bass in hand. He played along with skill and a real feel for his fellow players, and just as with Alex, a whole new side of his talents was displayed. The highlight of the night came on some fantastic bass runs during Otis Redding's 'Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay'. The time he had spent in Ogilvie back in the late 1960's paid off.
In August, realising they at least had to start working on new material, the band began putting together some new songs. Neil's writing had taken on a darker tone, reflecting the band's problems, his own personal state, and some of the issues he was reading about in newspapers. Yet, paradoxically the band were energised by the experience. Since they had to rely on themselves, and they felt kind of rejected, they were able to focus their anger and disappointment into new material. In three weeks, they had rough versions of 'Between The Wheels', 'Kid Gloves' and 'Afterimage'.
But, before they could continue work on the songs, they had to prepare for a series of shows scheduled at New York's Radio City Music Hall from September 18 through 23. Since they had not played together live since the beginning of the summer, they needed a week to rehearse. After all, the shows were at one of Manhattan's most prestigious theatres, and they wanted to put in a strong series of performances. Originally, they thought they would have most of the new album in good shape with a producer at this point, but that wasn't the case. Cancelling the gigs was out of the question, because they were important for the band, serving as a warm-up for the studio. In the past their pre-recording shake out tours had generally been done in smaller cities. Now they were going to play the biggest city in North America for a solid week in an intimate hall. The time frame was different because they weren't actually ready to start recording.
At a rehearsal the night before the first show, as I watched them run through their set, I roamed around the music hall checking out how they sounded in every corner. "How does it sound up there B-Man?" Geddy yelled to me through the PA. I held my thumb up in the air as I leant over the very top balcony. The band then ripped into the 'those who wish to B-Man' version of 'Limelight'. Also played that evening were the 'plumbers who fix your sinks' version of 'Temples Of Syrinx' and the 'Mr. Herns loves to Babylon' version of 'Digital Man', as well as the new material. 'Red Sector A', 'Kid Gloves' and 'The Body Electric' were played for the first time. They featured these songs in the set throughout the week's performances.
Neil looked like a kid in a candy store while checking out the music hall after rehearsal. He roamed through every corner of the grand building. All five shows were sold-out. Rush fans came from all over the country and Canada to see them in such a setting. A host of other rock bands came to check out Rush! Bono and Adam Clayton of U2, members of Blue Oyster Cult, Utopia and Foghat.
At the shows themselves, the band improvised through many of the instrumental passages of the new songs, and thrived on the atmosphere of a smaller hall. To a Rush fan, it was the ultimate treat. The encore was 'YYZ'. It featured Neil soloing on his brand new red Tama set, and the first appearance of his electronic Simmons drum kit. He had finally joined the electronic drum revolution, even though he had said a few years before that he had "no affinity for electronic drums and wires." Neil, realising that "constant change was here to stay," decided to move forward rather than be left behind.
Towards the end of the stand Alex invited me to visit the band at Le Studio during the recording of the new album. The band were very happy with the shows. They felt they had played well, and it helped to give them confidence to head back and deal with their production problems.
With the Radio City gigs out of the way, the band headed back to Canada to continue the great producer hunt. Rough versions of 'Distant Early Warning' and 'The Enemy Within' were laid down and work was started on 'Red Lenses'. Different people were brought in to listen to the songs and make suggestions about how the arrangements could be improved. Prospective producers were then asked to work with the band for a day or so, to see if they were compatible. At first they were still unsuccessful; they even nicknamed a toy doll 'Roger Kneebend' and called him their producer as a joke.
But then, Alex, Geddy and Neil met Peter Henderson who had worked on several Supertramp records and had extensive engineering experience. He clicked with the trio personally and was eager to do the job. As Neil later wrote, "We were still pretty insecure from our previous disappointments. Would he feel he was the right man for the job? Would he have some complex little problems which he had to sort out? Would he disappear and never be heard from again? Probably! We were determined to ask him first thing in the morning (the band had been having a late meeting) if he would like to commit himself to the project. After breakfast, we told him that we felt he was the man for the job and asked him if he was interested. 'Well' he replied with a dry English smile, 'I wouldn't have come all the way over here if I wasn't interested, would I?' 'All right. Let's go' we chorused."
But the elation did not last long. A new producer with different techniques meant more time recording the album. Added to this were the strains of the past year, and Neil's realisation as he read newspapers that 1984 would be much like an English author had predicted it would be back in 1948.
According to Neil, the down times usually came when one or more of the crew was in a 'black ass' state of mind. "You're working away at a song that you know can be good but it just won't be. You sit in the studio with aching hands and heavy heart, unable to deliver the performance that the song demands, after grinding it out for too long. You listen to a playback of something, and when it's over, no one says anything. Pregnant silences. Avoiding eyes. (Anyone know a good joke?)
"A certain tension descends at these times. The room is silent. Everyone knows something is wrong, but no one really wants to be the one to say 'It ain't right'. To criticise is to presuppose an alternative; to suggest an idea is to put your own pride on the line; to expose your vulnerability to possible rejection and disagreement. To listen to someone else's idea, with which you perhaps do not agree, is a challenge to your objectivity and self-control. It's hard to say what's right about it before you say what's wrong with it. Handle with kid gloves, handle with kid gloves indeed."
By the time I got up to Le Studio, the basic tracks, bass, drums and a guitar part had been recorded. On top of this the band had added some synthesizer bits. Alex was beginning to put down his guitar overdubs, everything from rhythm lines to solos, and he did much of the work over a three-day period, working non-stop for 16 hours at a stretch.
Watching Alex and Geddy work together, it was apparent that they were lifelong friends. Theirs was an easygoing relationship which included a neverending stream of jokes designed to smooth over the tension and tedium of getting each and every note right. Peter Henderson fitted into this team well; he seemed at ease joking with the pair as the guitar work continued.
Neil was in Toronto working on the cover with Hugh Syme. Once Alex was finished with his main parts, he took a more passive role, watching and listening, and occasionally giving suggestions. Peter and Geddy made many of the actual production decisions. It was clear that Peter was sharing production duties, not dominating them, but Geddy really took charge in many ways, consistently making tough choices that were needed to complete the record. If Neil supplied the lyrics and themes, Alex the rock and roll spirit, Geddy was in charge of making sure it was all captured on tape. Peter supplied the technical expertise and an outside voice.
Geddy later told Scene magazine that... "Henderson was very helpful, a very hard worker. His input made it possible for us to feel that we were taking control for the very first time, like all the decisions were ours. The bottom line was that 'Grace Under Pressure' was more of a Rush produced album because the responsibility weighed on our shoulders."
Neil returned to work on the recording of the lyrics with Geddy, but first Geddy had to add some bass and synth parts. Nothing brought home to me the hard work involved in modern day recording more than watching Geddy lay down his vocal tracks. Alex relaxed, glad that he had done the bulk of his guitar parts; Neil discussed phrasing, his lyrical intentions, and made slight changes if Geddy found a word or line awkward to sing. Peter worked on capturing Geddy's voice. And Gedd was on the spot. He would sing single lines over and over again. The lyric 'The world weighs on my shoulders, but what am I to do' must have been done 50 times. Work on the vocal track of 'Distant Early Warning' took 10 hours. Geddy was pretty much all business, and the jokes of earlier days were non-existent. Recording and mixing continued, for three more months after I left, and the band spent a total of five months recording the album, excluding three months spent writing the material.
The title 'Grace Under Pressure' described the way the band saw the whole period. The inner sleeve picture of an egg placed tightly in a c-clamp probably sums up the period best. The band decided to go for a group picture on the back cover, the first with the three posing together since '2112'. Neil said he wanted a Karsh-like photo, referring to the famed portrait photographer Yousuf Karsh. So they asked him and he accepted. It was the first rock band he had photographed and Geddy said he thought Karsh was disappointed that they were not wearing leather and acting like 'rock stars'.
Neil later wrote: "It was an inspiring and elevating experience to sit before the lens of the portrayer of kings, queens, presidents, popes, astronauts, authors, scientists, and film stars. And there he was taking an album cover photo for bums like us! It was wonderful to see, at his 75 years of age, his tremendous energy, creativity and swift changes of mood. He provided us with a memorable and broadly applicable quote when told that the lights in the room were not independently adjustable: 'That is not an answer that I can accept'."
The final album marks not so much a step forward for the band, as a return to form. Alex's guitar reappears with a fury that Geddy later considered an over-reaction to the synthesizer textures of 'Signals'.
'Grace Under Pressure' is a dark album, and it took a heavy toll on the band. When I first heard the record at Florida's Spring Training in March, Geddy turned to me and said, "You don't think the band could go on forever, do you?" I replied, "Maybe not forever, but at least for another 10 years." What I later learned was that Gedd was trying to tell me that the band were thinking about breaking up. Although they would later discuss this more fully, at first they kept pretty much to themselves. The individual songs reflect the darkness of the time. One of the strongest is 'Distant Early Warning'.
'Afterimage' is written about a close friend of the band's who died in a car accident. It's a very personal song, but although it has a tone of sadness, it tries to capture the beautiful memories that Neil had of Robbie Whelan who was killed in an auto accident near Le Studio and to whom the album is dedicated. The sense of a friend trying to explain how much someone who is not there and never will be again, meant to him, is captured in the call and response between Geddy's vocals and Alex's guitar on the chorus.
'Red Sector A' is a hopeful song amid darkness. A man is in a futuristic death camp, his fate unknown. For his father and brother it's too late but he still must help his mother stand up straight. Geddy sings as if he understands at least partly what such an experience would be like. His voice carries the tone of hope through the fear and horror. Even though the outcome is unknown, a vivid picture comes to mind of the man carrying his mother to freedom. Neil's drum fills are a metaphor for the smoking guns. Musically it is a quintessential latter-day Rush song, complete with complexity, dexterity, sharpness and provocative passion.
'The Enemy Within', the final but actually the first part of the Fear Trilogy, completes a song cycle begun with 'Witchunt'. In this section, the fear is that which is inside us, and not externally created. A great chorus... 'I'm not giving in to security under pressure/ I'm not missing out/On the promise of adventure/ I'm not giving up/ On implausible dreams/ Experience to extremes/ Experience to extremes.'
Neil plays a drum part on the song that reminds listeners how dexterous he really is. At one point during the chorus Neil plays the high-hat with his left foot, then kicks his foot over to the closest bass drum, throws in an accent, then it's back to the highhat. On the very next measure he hits another accent on a claptrap in an odd time. His left foot moves back and forth between three percussive instruments, while his right foot plays the other double bass, his right hand rides the bell of a cymbal, and his left hand plays the snare, with drum fills thrown in to top it all off.
'The Body Electric' is the album's futuristic sci-fi number. When Neil handed Alex and Geddy the lyrics, they asked if it was inspired by the film 'Blade Runner'. Neil replied that he had not yet seen it. There is also a Twilight Zone episode bearing the same name.
'Kid Gloves' contains what is perhaps Alex's best recorded guitar solo, a welcome change of pace on an otherwise dark album.
'Red Lenses' sounds like a cross between Jimi Hendrix, U2 and Peter Gabriel. The song is constructed around a complex drum pattern during the chorus. Neil wanted to base the piece on that rhythm. Lyrically the tune highlights what has been a slow change in Neil's approach to words. He began reading 20th century poets like T.S. Eliot, along with prose writers of that same period. On songs like 'Red Lenses' Neil tries to play with clich�s and subvert while giving them new meaning at the same time. And the words give pleasure on two levels, first by their very sounds and then by their meaning.
'Between The Wheels' is about pressure, and returns to the gloom of much of the rest of the album. Alex's guitar really jumps out. A lyric from the song puts across some of what they all must have felt at the time. 'We can go from boom to bust... from dreams to a bowl of dust.' Before the album was released, the band made videos for 'Distant Early Warning', 'Afterimage', 'Body Electric' and 'The Enemy Within'.
'Grace Under Pressure' was released on April 12, 1984, and by the beginning of May, Rush were rehearsing for the Grace Under Pressure Tour in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The rehearsals went smoothly, and Alex, Geddy and Neil sounded better than they had during the warm-ups for the Signals Tour, perhaps because they had spent even longer working on the material.
On May 7 it was dress rehearsal night. "I want you to go out there and be a tough critic, B-Man," said Neil. Lee Tenner from the crew and myself were the only ones in the hall and after every song we would yell, clap, stamp our feet and hold up Bic lighters. The band had passed the test; Rush were ready for their very critical audience. Rush fans follow every note, solo, drum fill, rhythm, and vocal very, very closely. A Rush concert puts Alex, Geddy and Neil under the microscopic eye of their loyal hard-core fans. This makes Rush even more critical of their performance. They want the show to be perfect.
The tour opened the following night and a highlight of the show was the first in-concert performance of the Fear Trilogy. While it had been recorded in descending order, it was played live in ascending order. The performance piece was interesting in part because 'Witchunt' had been designed as a studio production, and the band had never intended to play it live, but advances in synthesizer technology now made it possible. The band members had to go back to the recording and figure out how to play 'Witchunt'.
A day later, I conducted the strangest interview I've ever done. Alex rented a Cessna single engine prop plane to show me his flying skills. I took along a tape recorder and tried not to get airsick as we swooped over the desert. It was 'Fly By Day' for real. Here's a brief excerpt:
"I've always thought there was something beautiful about airplanes, just the fact that a large piece of machinery can fly in the air is really an incredible thing. So that of course sparks your interest, and also the challenge of getting a pilot's licence while being on the road. It's very difficult to find the time to be able to do it. This is what's known as a stall." The next sound was my gasp as the plane plummeted towards the ground. After several landings and take offs, we eventually landed on earth. Alex had logged his 171st hour of flight.
Neil was becoming a cycling maniac. He began to cycle between gigs if they were close enough. After one show he took his bike off the bus in San Diego, and caught up with the band 150 miles and one day later in Los Angeles.
In June the band played a pair of huge festivals in Texas. Every year there are two 'Texas Jams' held at football stadiums in Dallas and Houston. Rush were not just playing the shows; they were headlining above Gary Moore (their opening act for most of the tour), .38 Special, Bryan Adams and Ozzy Osbourne. With these 60,000 seat shows the group had reached the pinnacle as far as live performance was concerned. But the gigs convinced them that this was one mountain they wanted to climb back down. At the Houston Astrodome, Neil looked out at the mass of people on the playing field and said, "Look at all these people; we're a hockey team, not a football team. We're a hockey team."
While the band fared OK with such large crowds, there was a tremendous soundcheck in Dallas. Neil was pissed off because Geddy came back late from an extra inning baseball game, and while Neil may never admit it, he always plays best when he is angry. He is the kind of person who if he says he will meet you at 11:00 sharp, he will be there at 11:00 sharp. Adding to the atmosphere was the fact that the Cotton Bowl was pitch black except for a few white lights on the stage at midnight. This jam should have been filmed!
July 8 saw the band play the Pittsburgh Civic Arena. Nearly 10 years before on August 14 Neil had played his very first gig with Rush at this arena, opening in front of 11,600 people. This time they were headlining and the place was SRO with more than 16,000 people crammed inside. At the show Neil and I reminisced about the show a decade ago. He said that I was the only one to acknowledge his anniversary of sorts. I had bought each band member a bottle of their favourite booze, and a card telling them what their music had meant to me.
In many ways it was a different band that played in Pittsburgh that night. They were now first-rate musicians and could headline in front of crowds of more than 60,000 people. At the same time a variety of pressures seemed to be pulling them apart. Yet they were playing better than ever on this tour. The more hard rock oriented sounds of 'Grace Under Pressure' gave the band a kick in the butt on stage.
In other ways they were more mature. All were now married, with children, and maintaining a relationship while travelling and recording for six months or more at a time was difficult. Spending time cultivating these relationships now seemed more important. It was around this time that the band realised there could very well be an end to Rush; not that they wanted to break up or anything, just that one day the band would no longer be around. The press got hold of this and completely blew it out of proportion.
On tour Rush and their crew were hardly choirboys. As well as the lasers he used with the band Howard had purchased a small model for himself. One night he was demonstrating how it worked by shining it from his hotel room window into an apartment building across the street. The beam was so strong that it went through the windows of the adjacent apartments.
He was actually able to interrupt a family's late night meal by shining the light right on to their supper table. One woman began running around her apartment as Howard tracked her with the beam. This went on for over an hour before his phone rang. It was hotel security who told him the police were on their way. Minutes later, there were knocks on the door. When the cops asked Howard how his laser beam found its way into half a dozen apartments, he said he was trying to repair it and had not realised that it was shooting across the street. After a 20-minute interrogation, the police accepted his explanation with the provision that no more repair work be done that night. It turned out that many of the people thought that the light was some sort of guidance system for a sniper's rifle!
On Bastille Day in Montreal, July 14, Alex tried to resurrect their song of the French Revolution in the tuning room before the show, but it had been so long since he had played it that he had difficulty remembering it.
Rush continued touring throughout the summer. They had slowed down quite a bit from the old days of 13 nights of shows and then one rest day. Now they played no more than four or five shows a week, and would take seven days off for every three weeks on the road.
On September 20 and 21 the band played two hometown days, and to add to the pressure the band decided to film the concerts. One full Rush show had been filmed a few years before 'Exit... Stage Left', but this time Alex, Geddy and Neil decided to go all out. Additional lighting and stage production would be used. Noted film director David Mallet, who worked with the band on their 'Distant Early Warning' video, was in charge of the visual end of the shoot. And appropriate to a hometown show, Terry Brown made a return appearance. The result, while probably the best visual rendering of the band onstage to date, still does not totally capture the way they are in concert. You simply have to be there.
The day before two sold-out Spectrum shows in November, Neil and I rode our bikes to the Valley Forge and back. The next days we pedalled through South Philly right into the Spectrum dressing room.
"Hello, Philly!" Lee lashed out. "It's good to be back in the home of cheesesteaks and the B-Man!" I was freaked! My favourite band were sending me regards in front of 18,000 Philadelphia fans. The reason I'm bringing this up is because I think it's a very important point as to the kind of people Rush are. If a friend of theirs is having personal problems, troubles etc, Alex, Geddy, Neil and even the crew will bend over backwards to help them through the period, cheer them up, encourage them, give them inspiration. This is a major factor contributing to the longevity of the band and crew. If someone in the Rush family falls from grace, others will be there to lift them up. They are truly a family.
Later that night there was a wild, raging, all-night party on board a tall ship docked on the Delaware River.
Four concerts in Japan and two in Hawaii would close the P/G world tour. Days were set aside for sightseeing different territories throughout Japan, Hong Kong, Hawaii and even the People's Republic of China.
First came the Japanese dates. Considering Rush had never played the country, they had a substantial following there. They have a Japanese fan club, and their records are released by Sony Records. The first two shows were played in small 3,000 seat theatres in Nagoya and Fukuoka.
The band found the politeness of the audience strange. There was no applause between the songs and the crowd made very little noise even after their most fiery instrumental breaks. At first the trio thought they were bombing in a major way, but when the show ended everyone stood up and cheered. They apparently did not want to interrupt the show (too polite!). These concerts were performed with rented amps and staging. Tama drums made Neil a copy of his set just for the tour.
The final Japanese date was in Tokyo at Japan's most famed concert hall, the Budokan where we experienced another side of Japan. There were 16,000 people, including a few Americans from the military posts in Japan. Still, the audience was 70 per cent Japanese, and they went crazy, singing along with the band and clapping between every song. It seemed like a regular Rush concert. But there was one distinctly Japanese element: a man who operated what was in essence a traffic light for the audience. Green meant the crowd could clap as they wanted. If it looked like people were starting to get out of hand, the yellow light would be changed to red. This meant the concert was cancelled. The man in charge of the light was given authority to make this decision. The traffic system had been installed after several people had died at a concert that had got completely out of control. Rush managed to get the yellow light on a few times during the course of the concert. It was Herns who controlled the red lights.
Alex later commented on Japan: "It was interesting. I really enjoyed it, but I didn't come away from it feeling like I had really done something that I'd been waiting for all my life kind of thing. I think going to Texas for the first time was more of a highlight than going to Japan. I always wanted to go there, and the people were very friendly and polite. I wasn't as overwhelmed by it as I thought I'd be. Playing in Japan was OK. If I'd had my own equipment, it would have been better." Alex used Music Man amps for the tour.
From Tokyo we moved on to Hong Kong. One day was spent exploring the city before the much anticipated one-day trip into the People's Republic of China. A hovercraft took us to the mainland via Maccau. Then everyone boarded a bus for China. The difference between Hong Kong and the People's Republic of China was incredible. The Communist nation was much poorer. There were beggars everywhere on the other side of the border. The tour included a stop at a village where merchants would try and sell you anything 'five Hong Kong dollar'. They would yell in Chinese-style English while holding up the item in question. Chinese accentuated English is more tonal than the Japanese version, and sounds better.
Soon it was time for the long flight to Hawaii, and suddenly we were in a society that seemed familiar. And finally the tour came to a close at the NBC Arena with two dates in Honolulu. There was a larger proportion of women than usual at a Rush concert, and the most intense scent of sensimilla I've ever smelled. Only in Hawaii!
On the way to the last show, Alex announced to everyone in the limo, "I want to quit the band... I'm gonna leave." I saw the band from the third row at that gig... I was convinced that it could very well be the last time they ever played together. I didn't know it at the time, but, according to Neil, "Alex says that at least once a week."