Chapter 4
The 'Three Men Of Willowdale' returned to Toronto Sound in July of 1975 to begin work on their third album. Terry Brown was once again producing. With the success of the first two efforts, the band were in a confident mood, and their steadily increasing popularity had heightened the trio's resolve. In Neil's words it "helped to reinforce our belief in what we were trying to accomplish, and we became dedicated to achieving success without compromising our music, for we felt that it would be worthless on any other terms."

As with 'Fly By Night' most of 'Caress Of Steel' was written on the road. The new material was a real stretch for the band and with only 12 days budgeted for the recording and mixing of the record, it would prove difficult to get the sound they wanted down on tape.

The main factor in their favour was that much of the material had been worked out beforehand. Alex remembers how the album's musical and lyrical patterns were developed. "Neil wrote the lyrics for the 'Fountain Of Lamneth'," says Alex, "and he thought it would be kind of nice to try to incorporate a very loose concept by having a starting point, and an ending point, which would cover a whole album side. It would be a complete story but broken up so that they could be taken as individual songs, that unless you looked closely wouldn't necessarily relate to each other. That was how we approached it. It was also important for us to continue the By-Tor thing on the album with a piece that was eventually titled 'The Necromancer'."

But the band had bitten off more than they could chew. The time and care needed to work on such a complex undertaking was not possible with less than two weeks in the studio. In retrospect Terry agrees with this assessment, referring to the album as an ambitious project that did not quite come off. According to Terry, the production is too loose, and a few more weeks of work would have solved many problems. But he thinks that the musical ideas were very strong. Still, the record is probably the first where Rush were conscious of developing an original sound. While they do not quite achieve their own sound, they go quite a way towards doing so. The sessions laid a firm musical base for what was to follow.

The album begins with a bang, with 'Bastille Day' one of the finest hard rock songs ever recorded. It is a song of the French Revolution with music to match angry words, reaching new levels of complexity and ambiguity. Clearly influenced by Charles Dickens' riveting description of the terror in 'A Tale Of Two Cities', Neil expresses both the savagery of the mob, and the reasons for its behaviour. While at other times in the band's career Neil's mistrust of people acting en masse would bring out a palpable loathing of such collective action, on this song you can't quite tell which side he is on. This impression is reinforced by Geddy's passionate vocal. After all, the band now had the experience of playing in front of thousands of excited people and seen both the positive and negative aspects of communal experiences.

A complete change of pace follows. 'I Think I'm Going Bald' opens with an echoed shriek from Geddy that sounds as if he has just seen what he is about to describe. It is about waking up, looking in the mirror and thinking that you are going bald. The song has an amusing closing lyrical prophecy; 'But even when I'm grey I'll still be grey my way.'

'Lakeside Park' evokes lazy summer days and nights. The kind of life that the band had given up in order to 'make it'. Geddy's vocal has a poignancy that shows that at least part of him misses those carefree days. It's the kind of song to which just about every listener can relate because most of us have a Lakeside Park of our own.

Next comes a continuation of 'By-Tor And The Snowdog' in 'The Necromancer'. The strangest introductory vocal about 'three travellers, men of Willowdale' was created by treating Neil's voice with special effects using a digital delay unit and slowing the recording speed. It expands on the tentative art rock experiments of 'Fly By Night'. A whole bevy of effects are employed to heighten the sonic experience of the piece, or actually pieces. 'The Necromancer' is really three movements strung together as one, united by the battle between By-Tor and the Necromancer. The song shares with several tunes from the previous album a heavy J.R.R. Tolkien influence with its talk of wizards, wraiths and tower fortresses. It is also the first time Rush extended a concept from one LP to another.

The second half of the album contains Rush's first side-long composition. On the cover of the record, six individual songs are listed, but even a casual listen reveals they are meant to be taken as a whole. There are several recurring musical and lyrical motifs, and the tracks all melt into each other. The epic appears to be about a man's compulsion to see and taste the world, and if possible to understand what these experiences mean. The traveller finds that the key, the end, the answer, is that there is none. The suite's highlights, a drum showcase for Neil on 'Didacts And Narpets', 'Bacchus Plateau', 'The Fountain' and 'No One At The Bridge'.

Even with the strict time limits, you can hear how the band is developing its compositional skills. The playing is solid with definite signs of improvement, but it is not as noticeable as the leaps in technique made from the first to the second album. As events turned out, 'Caress Of Steel' would come in for quite a drubbing, but the record, if far from perfect, contains much of what Rush would become, and more than that stands up today as a whole, something that only parts of 'Rush' and 'Fly By Night' achieve. As a matter of fact, just like the first record it has a small, but devoted band of fans who think it is the best thing Rush have ever done. Although critical of his own production, Terry Brown is one of those who 'loves' the record.

Rush played down the disc in later years, but Terry says that, "At the time they were very happy with it. Not many others shared this view. Right from the beginning it was not going to be a very big record (laugh), everyone who heard it sort of went 'Um, yes, oh, a new direction'. From an outsider's point of view it was very difficult to get into 'Caress' quickly. But there are some great tunes on it."

Neil talked about the attitude of the band while they were recording the album. "We went in serene and confident, and emerged with an album that we were tremendously proud of, as a major step in our development, and featuring a lot of dynamic variety and some true originality."

Rush were set for their third tour with an album that they thought would win over more fans and garner more airplay. Although there were warning signs from the reactions of those around them, the band were convinced that they had not only pleased themselves, but had also gone another big step towards establishing themselves as a definite entity. They were in for an upsetting surprise.

When it came to designing the cover, another contributor to the band's look and sound arrived on the scene. Hugh Syme, a member of the Ian Thomas Band also on Anthem Records, had previously asked to design one of the Thomas album covers. Ray agreed, liked his work and asked him to come up with some ideas for the 'Caress' packaging. Hugh made pencil drawings of a man on a mountain with a floating pyramid at his front, and a snake by his side. The group's name was above the picture. The title of the album was below it. When the jackets were printed, the colour separation people botched the job, much as they had with the first album. Hugh's rather striking idea of doing the front cover in a glaring steel tone was translated to a brass or copperish colour. Since the new colour had nothing to do with steel, the entire cover concept was ruined. By the time the band saw what had happened hundreds of thousands of the foldout covers had been printed and it would have been too expensive at this stage in Rush's career to reprint them. It was an omen for what was to come.

The album, complete with a dedication to Rod Serling, came out in September 1975. 'Return Of The Prince' from 'The Necromancer' was released as the single. It died, and the album itself moved off the shelves very slowly. Rush received no radio airplay from 'Caress Of Steel'.

Terry knew the lack of radio play was a sign of trouble. "I guess the band didn't have quite the pull airplay wise. We never have," said Broon. "It's always been a problem. If you make a record that's on the other side of it, then you can forget the airplay. 'Caress Of Steel' was a prime example. It wasn't accessible enough for radio to get into." These radio programmers obviously didn't have the compact disc version of 'Caress Of Steel'. Released in March 1987, remastered from the original tapes, it is worth the price of buying a disc player just to hear this highly underrated recording.

As the band embarked on its three-and-a-half month 'Caress Of Steel' tour their high spirits began to sag, although one positive development was a slight improvement in their travelling conditions. Instead of a rental car, the trio travelled in a Funcraft Van, complete with a small refrigerator and four sleeping bunks, which was nicknamed 'The Blue Rocket'. The crew consisted of Howard acting as road manager and lighting director, Ian with double duties as drum technician and sound man, Liam switched from bass roadie to guitar technician, and newcomer Skip Gildersleeve who replaced Jim Johnson. He met the band during their appearances at Detroit's Michigan Palace.

Everyone shared the driving chores. Skip explains how it worked. "We had a driving rotation schedule, where Neil would write this sheet out (there was a three-man crew, not including Howard) so you would be up to drive one night, the next night you were back-up driver, the night after that you rode with the band and you didn't have to drive at all. The band and Howard had the same schedule with the Funcraft."

As word filtered back from the record company on the disappointing sales of 'Caress Of Steel' the band also got the message from falling audience attendance and enthusiasm. While Rush could feel the momentum building on the first two tours, this was not the case on the third. Band and crew began only half-jokingly calling it 'The Down The Tubes Tour'. And as the jaunt progressed the smiles got rarer.

According to Neil it "was a pretty depressing string of small towns and small clubs." Everyone was disappointed. Liam recalled, "I expected it to be a much larger album and tour. They just weren't getting the acceptance they deserved. Looking back on it maybe the album was a little self-indulgent, but I thought the material was extremely good and couldn't understand why it wasn't being accepted. Maybe it wasn't commercial enough for the audience."

Things got so grim, as Geddy later told Guitar Player magazine, there was a moment "when we thought 'well maybe we should just hang it up and go home.' I remember we were on an overnight drive to Atlanta, Georgia and we were all real depressed, saying 'Oh this is never going to work! What are we doing here?'"

As 1975 and 'The Down The Tubes Tour' ground to a close, the band's very name seemed to be an ironic comment on their lack of progress. With a decline in record sales, they began to have problems with their cash flow. Ray Danniels was $325,000 in the hole with Rush with only an ulcer to show for it. For weeks at a time they were not paid their regular touring salaries. On each occasion the cheques stopped, they wondered whether or not it was for good. Alex said, "We didn't know what to do, we were not sure what direction to take."

But others were more than ready to offer advice. Record company executives and the band's management began to express doubts about the course Rush were taking, and even their future prospects. Unwanted and unsolicited outside suggestions came flooding in.

Talk of hit singles, and a return to a Led Zeppelin Junior approach were frequent. The band had to make a crucial choice. "We had worked very, very hard," said Alex, "and all of a sudden we weren't getting any support. By the nature of the way our deal was set up at the record company we had freedom to do musically what we wanted. When after 'Caress' there was that lack of support... we had to decide whether we were going to say... okay, we give up. We either break up, or we try to make another first album, or we say fuck it and do whatever we want. We decided on the third choice. We talked about the whole thing, and got really fired up between the three of us to really push on and not worry about what anyone else thought."

Their determination was bolstered by an idea Neil was working on. His continuing fascination with Ayn Rand was to provide him with a concept that would push the trio to come up with a finished product that matched their promise. Rand's depictions of heroic men and women fighting for their creative freedom against a hostile society took on an even more personal meaning for the group. Neil saw a parallel between Rand's characters and Rush's struggles.

Conceived in bits and pieces during 'The Down The Tubes Tour', the material showed a new maturity in Neil's writing. His lyrics show an economy of expression that he had achieved only sporadically before. By the time the piece took its final shape it concerned a time in the not too distant future when a galaxy-wide war results in the rule of all the planets by a caste of priests who maintain control through a massive system of computers. All art and expression is channelled through the computers into a bland unified whole.

One man in this future-gone-awry accidentally rediscovers a guitar, slowly teaches himself to play the instrument and gradually learns that he can make music by himself. A music that expresses his individuality and implicitly rejects the orthodoxy of the priests. The man, only wishing to do good, rushes to tell his rulers of the discovery. The priests listen to the new music and tell him it has no place in their world. The hero returns dejected to the place where he found the guitar. He then falls asleep and dreams that an oracle shows him the way to paradise. When he awakes, the man realises that the beauty he has seen was only a dream. After several days' reflection, he comes to the conclusion that he cannot continue. So he takes his own life, with the hope of moving on to a better one. Then in Neil's words, "As he dies another planetary battle begins--with the outcome to be determined in the mind of the listener."

Alex and Geddy quickly saw how Neil's concept related to their own problems. It inspired them to go for a tighter, more focused sound. Whereas on 'Caress Of Steel' you could still hear echoes of Rush's influences, the new matenal gave them a sound they could call their own.

Neil later wrote about the period. "It was uncertain for a time whether we would fight or fall, but finally we got mad! We came back with a vengeance... we were talking about freedom from tyranny and meant it. This was the first real blend of our diverse and schizophrenic influences."

Geddy said the piece was a combination of everything the band wanted to say at the time. He said Rush were trying to say musically what Ayn Rand had expressed on the printed page. "When Neil came up with the lyrics," said Geddy, "we worked out the music over an extended period of time. The philosophy we have as a band just came out."

This can be heard at the very start of the piece. There is the sound of what appears to be a spacecraft landing. Then the band kicks in. Alex rips into his guitar. A thick bass line and pounding drums join in as Rush embark on their most aggressive, and yet at the same time controlled, musical journey to that date. Rush's frustration and the theme of the material are inseparable. Then there is an explosion followed by a sudden calm in the musical storm as Geddy softly sings, 'And the meek shall inherit the earth.'

The fury of the opening suddenly returns with Geddy lashing out in his fantastic falsetto: 'We've taken care of everything/ The words you read/ The songs you sing/ The pictures that give pleasure to your eyes/ One for all/ And all for one/ Work together common sons/ Never need to wonder how or why.'

Contained in those lyrics and in the playing that accompanied them seemed to be a condemnation of all the compromises that others wanted Rush to make.

The band road tested the new material during the final leg of 'The Down The Tubes Tour' in order to work out as much of the piece as possible before recording. There was no better way to do it than in front of a live audience.

Even though the band was regaining some of its lost confidence, the trio had no way of knowing whether their next record would be any more successful than 'Caress Of Steel'. In fact they were wary of their own judgement, because they had such high hopes for the third album. But the conflict had succeeded in unleashing the creative power of the band more than they knew, and the extensive preproduction work put the members of Rush in the best position they had ever been in prior to recording an album. Now the only problem was getting '2112' on tape.

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