Rush, "Moving Pictures"

CJ relocates some artwork

, and

Jul 07, 2021

CJ’s Pitch:

I was standing in the beer line at a Rush 30th Anniversary show. (It could have been a 20th Anniversary show or a 40th Anniversary show. I’ve seen a lot of Rush shows.) Anyway, I’m in the beer line and the two guys in front of me have the following conversation.

Dude #1 (sporting an ancient Fly By Night t-shirt and a wispy goatee): I’m looking forward to Neil’s drum solo.

Dude #2 (2112 t-shirt, scraggly ponytail): Me too. It’s the notes between the notes that I really enjoy.

Me (Signals t-shirt, same haircut I’ve had since I was 12), to myself: Yeah, I can see why people hate this band.

Woman in line behind me: Idiots.

(I’m kidding, of course. This was a Rush show. There were no women.)

In fairness, Rush does play hard to get. Their early songs take up whole album sides. Their lyrics are often cryptic and obtuse. There are odd key changes and weird time signatures. And Rush fans, well, we can be insular and pedantic. Right at this moment, several of them are staring at the first paragraph and screaming “Rush didn’t do a 20th Anniversary Tour, dumbass!” To which I say, “Relax, guys. I’m trying to make us look sane for the normals.”

In any case, I am ready to offer up a Rush album for Newbury St. consideration because I love this band. They just don’t sound like anybody else and nobody has been able to sound like them. The same three guys—Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson and Neil Peart—played together on 18 of their 19 studio albums, creating an unbreakable bond and an intrinsic chemistry.

Nowhere is that musical alchemy more apparent than on 1981’s Moving Pictures.

I’m not even going to mention the song that leads off this album. It qualifies Moving Pictures as a Hall of Famer all by itself. You know it from the very first note and you probably love it. Even if you don’t like anything else by Rush. Let’s talk about the rest of the first side, though.

“Red Barchetta” takes place in a futuristic society where apparently cars have been outlawed. The protagonist takes his uncle’s illegal Barchetta (which is actually a badass Ferrari) for a dangerous joyride only to be pursued by the authorities. As the narrative progresses, the music quickens to match the pace of the pursuit. It’s a great little sci-fi number.

Named after the airport code for Toronto, “YYZ” is an instrumental flex that gives each of the fellas a chance to show off. This is the sort of piece that musicians measure themselves against. If you can play “YYZ”, you can play anything.

“Limelight” closes Side 1 and is the other big hit from this album. It’s a Peart confessional about his discomfort with fame. If you’ve ever wondered why your favorite celebrity wasn’t jazzed to take a selfie with you, this bit sums it up best:

Living in a fish eye lens, caught in the camera eye

I have no heart to lie

I can’t pretend a stranger is a long-awaited friend.

So there.

Side 2 is a worthwhile intellectual pursuit. “Camera Eye” is a travelogue of observations inspired by two walks, one through New York and one through London. “Witch Hunt” is a foreboding tune which initiated Rush’s Fear series that the band periodically revisited in subsequent albums. And then we get to the sneaky best song on the record, “Vital Signs”.

A classic Rush theme is rebelling against the urge to conform. (See also: “Subdivisions”.) “Vital Signs” is reassurance for all of us, but especially Rush fans, that it’s okay to be different. It’s also how I’d encourage you to think about this band and their seminal album. Like the song says:

Everybody got mixed feelings

About the function and the form

Everybody got to deviate from the norm.

We’ve frequently argued about which category Rush belongs to--prog, metal, rock, etc. It may be that they’ve created a category all their own. Certainly, Moving Pictures is a singular album that defies comparison with music in any of those genres. So go ahead, boys. Deviate from the norm and welcome Moving Pictures to the Newbury St. Collection.

Mitch’s Response:

My favorite thing about Rush’s Moving Pictures is the cover art, which features some dudes in overalls literally moving pictures while onlookers are literally moved by the pictures. It’s that kind of clever subtlety that defines this legendary album.

Subtlety is obviously not Rush’s strong suit. Whereas most bands are (rightfully) sheepish about putting even one drum solo on an album, Rush asks the question: “what if every song was basically built around a drum solo?” They also ask the related follow-up question: “if Neil accidentally knocks over a piece of wood in the studio, do we have to credit the wood in the liner notes?” (In both cases the answer was a resounding “yes”.)

Then again, I guess Neil Peart’s endless tom rolls are necessary to keep up with the endless assault that comes from Alex Liefson’s stabby guitar and Geddy Lee’s triple threat of bass, keys and vocal shrieks. Let’s just say that there’s a lot of gravy on the Rush poutine and not enough Labatt’s Blue in the world to wash it all down.

I would never doubt CJ’s expertise as a Rush fanatic, as anyone who sports a life-sized Rush poster (“Why do all those gorgeous ladies have mustaches?”) knows way more about them than I do, but I am somewhat confused by him calling their overt lyrics “cryptic and obtuse”.

There’s a song called “Tom Sawyer” which is not an allegory about the American experience, but is actually about a kid on a riverboat. There’s a song about a red car that is called “Red Barchetta” and is about driving a red car…in a dystopic future! There’s a (very un-Canadian) song about how much living in the limelight sucks (shockingly called “Limelight”). There’s an instrumental named after the local airport. There’s a song about New York and London which name checks both cities so we don’t accidentally think Rush is still stuck at the airport in Toronto. There’s some nonsense about witches, and finally we get to “Vital Signs”, a fitting end for an album that has a lot of noise but not much of an emotional heartbeat.

All of this is to say that of course Moving Pictures deserves to be in the Newbury St. Collection! It might have taken Rush 7 warm-up albums, but they finally drummed their unique sound into some accessible and classic tunes, even if the second side flatlines a tad.

Pitch Successful (don’t read Ayn Rand and write songs, kids)

Ken’s Response:

Like most young Jewish kids, my summers were spent at sleepaway camp, and they were some of the best times of my life. But for me, those times began late; my first summer on the shores of Lake Winnipesaukee was when I was 12. Before that, I vividly recall doing a day camp at Framingham State College called “College Academy”, which consisted of...well, taking classes. It wasn’t my favorite thing, but I did take one class called Radio Broadcasting which was a ton of fun.

The first day of class, our teacher waited until the class was full, then burst through the open door at a full sprint and proceeded to slide on the linoleum floor like he was Sammy Davis Jr’s understudy in Robin and the Seven Hoods. The guy was a complete lunatic. But man did he like Rush!

He wore a t-shirt that to me said Two thousand one hundred and twelve, but I soon came to find out that I was wrong. He wasn’t wrong though. The man preached the gospels of Geddy, Alex, and Neil nonstop, and we were born again for the first time.

Fast-forward to high school. Now I speak from authority because I went to two different high schools in two different towns, and it was the exact same at both places. If you were a high school boy in suburban Massachusetts in the ‘80’s, you either loved Rush, liked Rush, or lied about liking Rush for fear of being tarred, feathered, and sent to live with relatives in Florida.

That same year that I discovered Rush through a maniacal Charles Laquidera wanna-be, Rush released the album Moving Pictures. There is nothing about this album that I don’t like. Geddy’s voice is in its prime, Alex Lifeson’s guitar licks are impeccable and unique, and the whole thing is driven by the greatest drummer to ever pick up sticks (apologies to Buddy Rich), who is one of the fastest, yet cleanest drummers in the history of mankind.

Not only does this record belong in the Newbury St Collection, I fear there may be something wrong with you if “Tom Sawyer”, “Red Barchetta”, or my personal favorite “Limelight” don’t make you want to get up and move.

Pitch Successful (Do they call it “Why-Why-Zed” up in the Great White North?)

CJ’s pitch was successful and Rush’s Moving Pictures has been added to the Newbury St. Collection!

The spirit of radio compels you to visit the comment section and let us know if you agree that Rush’s Moving Pictures deserves to make permanent waves.

Exile on Newbury St.

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