Having spent two summers and my senior year of college working at classic rock radio stations, I must have heard Free's "All Right Now" hundreds of times, thousands if we're counting bumpers. And yet, long after I've tired of "Stairway to Heaven" and "Free Bird," I'll happily sit through "All Right Now."
I'm still hearing new things in it. Two years ago, I heard an organist play it at a Cubs game and realized the verses have the same melody as "Footloose" (which "All Right Now" predates by 14 years).
It's the only Free song I know, and I've never felt inclined to seek out any others. I'm assuming they're good, and maybe someday I'll find out. But as of now it feels like the complete encapsulation of a band. Maybe Free themselves realized this, as Paul Rodgers saved nearly of his hits for Bad Company. You've heard the riff in countless other songs, but never played like this, and you might forget which hook goes with it the first dozen or so times it turns up on your FM. But once you get there, you'll stick around for Andy Fraser's moment of rock immortality. The bubbling bass line that takes over the bridge right around 2:20 is a pioneer moment of a bassist taking the lead in a great rock song, and still one of the only rock bass solos that doesn't disappoint or wear out its welcome. Now that we've heard Steve Harris, Geddy Lee, Cliff Burton, Sting, Flea and more it doesn't sound so unusual, and yet no less perfect.
Showing posts with label geddy lee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label geddy lee. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Rush at the Barclays Center
Maybe being a Rush fan in 2012 isn't the international dorkdom give away that it once was, but you never could have told that from their show last Monday at the Barclays Center, the new arena's first rock show.
Rush played nine songs from their steam-punk themed new album, Clockwork Angels. Props and videos told a vague story about the band living together as gnomes, with punchlines that wouldn't have made it past Bazooka Joe. Unlike fellow Canadian Leonard Cohen, whose tours rescue his '80s songs from the abyss of '80s rock production, Geddy Lee still plays bass and synthesizer at the same time on songs like "The Big Money" and "Red Sector A." Neal Peart got two drums solos, and deserved a third one. Oh yeah, for the first time ever in Rush history, they're bringing a string section on tour with them.
Mainstream respect has been a long time coming for Rush, capped with this year's Rock Hall nomination, and critics are now either grudgingly or genuinely admiring the band's 40 year history of playing arenas with no support from media or pop radio. On their current tour, the band seems to have moved on from that history, choosing to revive cuts from Signals and Power Windows and leave out classics like "Freewill," "Limelight" and "Closer to the Heart." But at this point, Rush can play whatever they want. Nearly every fan will sing along to every song, and even more of them will contribute air guitar and air drums. More importantly, the band are the kind of showbiz pros that one could hope for--professional without being self-serious, high-production and still spontaneous. Throwing "Manhattan Project" into the set? Tossing a synthpop gauntlet with "Force Ten?" Alex Lifeson's improvised hoedown when his Gibson went out? Just as indispensable as "YYZ."
Not to leave casual fans unsatisfied, the band closed with "The Spirit of Radio" and encored with a still-raging "Tom Sawyer" and the game-changing "2112." The band's exuberance carried through the finish--I was reminded of the scene in the must-see Beyond the Lighted Stage, where Lee explains that he never gets tired of playing the hits, since they're always hard to play. My accomplice grabbed my shoulder and reminded me that the show was "fucking awesome." His date, the rock music equivalent of the one girl in a comic book store, was practically giddy. It would be cooler to write about Black Sabbath or AC/DC, but I left the Barclays Center wishing that more of my favorite bands were like Rush.
Rush played nine songs from their steam-punk themed new album, Clockwork Angels. Props and videos told a vague story about the band living together as gnomes, with punchlines that wouldn't have made it past Bazooka Joe. Unlike fellow Canadian Leonard Cohen, whose tours rescue his '80s songs from the abyss of '80s rock production, Geddy Lee still plays bass and synthesizer at the same time on songs like "The Big Money" and "Red Sector A." Neal Peart got two drums solos, and deserved a third one. Oh yeah, for the first time ever in Rush history, they're bringing a string section on tour with them.
Mainstream respect has been a long time coming for Rush, capped with this year's Rock Hall nomination, and critics are now either grudgingly or genuinely admiring the band's 40 year history of playing arenas with no support from media or pop radio. On their current tour, the band seems to have moved on from that history, choosing to revive cuts from Signals and Power Windows and leave out classics like "Freewill," "Limelight" and "Closer to the Heart." But at this point, Rush can play whatever they want. Nearly every fan will sing along to every song, and even more of them will contribute air guitar and air drums. More importantly, the band are the kind of showbiz pros that one could hope for--professional without being self-serious, high-production and still spontaneous. Throwing "Manhattan Project" into the set? Tossing a synthpop gauntlet with "Force Ten?" Alex Lifeson's improvised hoedown when his Gibson went out? Just as indispensable as "YYZ."
Not to leave casual fans unsatisfied, the band closed with "The Spirit of Radio" and encored with a still-raging "Tom Sawyer" and the game-changing "2112." The band's exuberance carried through the finish--I was reminded of the scene in the must-see Beyond the Lighted Stage, where Lee explains that he never gets tired of playing the hits, since they're always hard to play. My accomplice grabbed my shoulder and reminded me that the show was "fucking awesome." His date, the rock music equivalent of the one girl in a comic book store, was practically giddy. It would be cooler to write about Black Sabbath or AC/DC, but I left the Barclays Center wishing that more of my favorite bands were like Rush.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage
I love Scot McFadyen and Sam Dunn's documentary Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage.
Think about your favorite music movies, and how much drama all of them have. It's relatively easy to make a good movie about Ozzy Osbourne. But for a band with as little sex, drugs, inner conflict or dry spells as Rush, (I believe Geddy Lee bashfully quips "We were a little high" at one point. That's it.) Beyond the Lighted Stage is a startlingly funny, sweet and rewatchable film.
Modern music heroes whom you thought were too private or badass to gush on camera all fawn over a trio of gawky Sci-Fi nerds. Lee and Alex Lifeson's chemistry is never anything less than delightful, and every moment with Neil Peart feels revelatory. Dunn and McFadyen (Metal: A Headbanger's Journey, Iron Maiden: Flight 666) have always made impressive metal movies, but this is the first one that I'd urge non-metalheads to watch. Pitchfork editors can go on laughing at Geddy's voice, Peart's lyrics or Lifeson's timing, but I can't imagine anyone not being won over by Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage.
Think about your favorite music movies, and how much drama all of them have. It's relatively easy to make a good movie about Ozzy Osbourne. But for a band with as little sex, drugs, inner conflict or dry spells as Rush, (I believe Geddy Lee bashfully quips "We were a little high" at one point. That's it.) Beyond the Lighted Stage is a startlingly funny, sweet and rewatchable film.
Modern music heroes whom you thought were too private or badass to gush on camera all fawn over a trio of gawky Sci-Fi nerds. Lee and Alex Lifeson's chemistry is never anything less than delightful, and every moment with Neil Peart feels revelatory. Dunn and McFadyen (Metal: A Headbanger's Journey, Iron Maiden: Flight 666) have always made impressive metal movies, but this is the first one that I'd urge non-metalheads to watch. Pitchfork editors can go on laughing at Geddy's voice, Peart's lyrics or Lifeson's timing, but I can't imagine anyone not being won over by Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage.
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