Music,  Reflections

Goodbye, Neil

With age comes loss, and it’s interesting to observe one’s own reactions to loss. Even loss involving people not personally known can surprise a man with its punch and bruise.

When I heard the other day of the death of Neil Peart, the drummer for the Canadian rock group Rush, I was struck dumb with grief. Very curious. I never knew the man except through his lyrics and masterful musicianship, but I felt as if a friend had been taken away.

I first saw Rush live in 1977 and became an instant fan. During my Marine Corps years, the band was massively popular among fellow leathernecks, but hadn’t achieved the massive success they would go on to realize. Behind the obvious virtuosity of the three musicians, Peart’s lyrics shimmered and drew the spirit’s attention. I remember listening over and over again to the lyrics to “Subdivisions” and “Losing It” and realizing that the always anti-Rush mainstream press like Rolling Stone were completely obtuse, either intentionally or otherwise.

I once heard a drummer say that the high point of his drummer-in-training years was learning to play the Rush song “YYZ” without making a mistake. I’ve always enjoyed that tune myself, so here it is, complete with a short intro on how the band came to write it. Interesting that I selected a Rush song with no lyrics, seeing that Mr. Peart was the lyricist on most of their music.

This is for you, Neil. May the next part of your journey be as wonderful to you as your music was to so many of us. The full song starts at 5:14.

 

~ S.K. Orr

4 Comments

  • Dave Hodges

    “I felt as if a friend had been taken away.”

    Yeah. This man narrated my teenage years. This was the first time that a musician died that I was legitimately heartbroken. For a whole day I wandered around the house humming the RUSH lyrics that punctuated all the major events recorded by my hormone-laden brain in high school and college.

    Though Alex and Geddy were my musical idols, it was Neil whose heartbeat was in sync with mine. He will be sorely missed.

    • admin

      I agree Dave. It’s fascinating how a particular song can instantly transport us back to a specific era or even moment in our lives.

      I was watching the Youtube video of Rush being inducted into the R & R Hall of Fame and was interested to see how the two guys from the Foo Fighters who did the induction talked about Geddy and Alex with affection and respect, but spoke of Neil with something approaching reverence. Non-Rush fans don’t get it. Those of us who came of age listening to songs that took up an entire side of an album do.

  • Francis Berger

    Your post was the first I heard of Peart’s death. Having grown up in Canada, Rush played a major role in my formative years. I was always amazed by Peart’s drumming, but the writer in me was more moved by the eloquence of his lyric writing.

    He was an interesting individual – very sharp; extremely articulate. Like you, I was fortunate enough to have seen Rush perform live. It was truly something to see Peart drumming in person.

    On a side note, I never met Peart, but I did see Lifeson a couple of times when I was a kid. Lifeson’s son, Justin Zivojinovich (yes, that’s Lifeson’s real name – it’s Serbian and essentially means “son of life”) and I played on the same hockey team in Oak Ridges, Ontario when I was nine.

    I am going to mention this post on my blog.

    • admin

      Thank you, Francis. And what an interesting anecdote about encountering Lifeson and his son when you were a boy.

      I didn’t mention this on my blog, but since you share my appreciation for Peart’s writing, you might want to check out one of his published volumes of memoir. His observations as he traveled to and from concerts on his BMW motorcycle (he eschewed the airplane and the tour bus) are well worth reading. His meditations on loss, tragedy, and suffering are honest and deep.