Less than a week from the epic R40 concert in Chicago, and Will and I wrap up our countdown with an entry that will surprise no one.
No. 1: Moving Pictures
Released in 1981
Highlights: Every. Single. Song.
Least glorious moments: None.
Cool Neil Peart lyrical moment:
“They say there are strangers, who
threaten us
In our immigrants and infidels
They say there is strangeness to dangerous
In our theaters and bookstore
shelves
That those who know what’s best for
us
Must rise and save us from
ourselves”
-- "Witch Hunt"
Moving Pictures isn’t just the best
Rush album. It actually might be the best album ever.
This is perfection on vinyl – and cardboard,
because the album cover is brilliant, too.
Even Rolling Stone magazine, which
hates all things good, had to begrudgingly rank Moving Pictures among its best
albums of all time.
Moving Pictures was released in
February 1981, my junior year in high school. I embraced it about as hard as a
high school kid can embrace anything, carrying me through all the joys and
sorrows a 17-year-old can muster.
Much of the music from the 1980s sounds dated. That’s not a bad thing if you, like me, love all things 1980s. But all
the songs on Moving Pictures still sound fresh and exciting. They are timeless.
We are going to have to go through
each of the seven brilliant tracks.
Here's a live version of "Tom Sawyer" with the classic "South Park" intro.
“Tom Sawyer”
“Tom Sawyer” is “the music of the
universe” according to an episode of Chuck, with the song serving a central
role in the plot.
In the spring of my junior year, I
boldly ran for treasurer of the General Organization, the not-so-cleverly named
version of our student council. This was a strategic move, as I knew I was not
popular enough to be president or vice president, but knew enough of the
popular kids to think I might get enough sympathy votes to snag a lower office.
Everybody wants to run for president, but who wants to be treasurer?
I designed a populist campaign
around the idea of allowing local bands to perform concerts after school.
Naturally, I used “Tom Sawyer” lyrics for my campaign posters.
“What you say about his company is
what you say about society
Catch the mist – catch the myth –
catch the mystery – catch the drift”
I came in second out of three
candidates, but gained office midyear when the very nice girl who won left
early for college. Serving on the council with me was the sister of the
acting Baldwin brothers, who also was very nice.
I’m not sure if credit for the one
little victory of sorts goes to Neil Peart, or to Pye Dubois, the Max Webster
lyricist who collaborated with Peart and likely never had to work again.
“Red Barchetta”
The lyrics were inspired by the
short story “A Nice Morning Drive” by Richard S. Foster.
Set in a future when cars are banned, our protagonist goes for a ride in a
brilliant red Barchetta preserved by his uncle and encounters the authorities,
whom he eludes after a high-speed chase.
Neil tells it better, of course. But
all high-school boys love the idea of rebelling against the authorities.
“YYZ”
This is a tale of heartache, which
is pretty neat for an instrumental.
I wrote concert and album reviews
for the Berner Beacon, our school paper. It was, perhaps, the only thing I did
that was cool.
The sporadic publishing schedule
meant that an issue included both my glowing album review of Moving Pictures
and an equally glowing review of the tour stop at the Nassau Coliseum.
Now, like any good Rush-obsessed
fan, I was aware that YYZ was the three-letter airport code for the airport in
the band’s native Toronto. I also knew that the opening notes of the song were
those letters in Morse code. I even knew that, being Canadians, the guys in
Rush pronounced the letter Z “zed.”
In those days, we wrote
our stories on a typewriter and turned them over to the editors who turned them
over to someone else to typeset. This was a dangerous thing, as I learned.
The morning the papers
were delivered, I rushed to the stack to see both my reviews in print and bask
in the praise.
Then I read the copy.
Someone – the editor, the
typesetter, who knows – either decided I didn’t know what I was talking about
or wasn’t paying much attention and changed “YYZ” to “XYZ.” They did this in
both reviews.
Not even the retired Pye
Dubois would have been able to find the words to describe the sorrow and
humiliation of that day. Because, for the rest of the day, people stopped me in
the corridor to inform me that the name of the song was “YYZ,” not “XYZ.”
I know, friends. I know. I
will get over this someday – but not any time soon.
“Limelight”
“Limelight” is a top-five
Rush song and has always been a favorite. But I didn’t quite understand the
full meaning of the lyrics until I read "Roadshow," one of Neil’s travel books, where he
writes about riding his motorcycle between shows.
Throughout the book, Peart
tells about how he is uncomfortable meeting fans, leaving that role to Alex and
Geddy. He’s uneasy with the trappings of rock stardom, which is fine.
“Cast in this unlikely
role, ill-equipped to act with insufficient tact. One must put up
barriers to keep oneself intact.”
And:
“Living in a fisheye lens,
caught in the camera eye. I have no heart to lie. I can’t pretend a stranger is
a long-awaited friend.”
So if you run into Neil,
don’t tell him how “Time Stand Still” changed your life and ask for an
autograph. Just say “Thank you for the music” and move on.
“The Camera Eye”
This is a Rush song about
New York. Do I need to say more?
“The Camera Eye” – the
phrase doesn’t appear in the song – actually compares the homeland and London.
Clocking in at nearly 11 minutes, it was the last of the long Rush songs. And
all of it is glorious.
“Witch Hunt”
I had a really cool
creative writing teacher who allowed us to bring in a song that we thought had
great lyrics and play it in class.
If you’ve read this far,
you knew I was going to use this opportunity before a captive audience to
extoll the virtues of Rush. I settled upon “Witch Hunt,” with its soaring
keyboards and haunting lyrics about prejudice and fear.
I remember beaming as one
classmate said, “That was pretty cool, Dave.” Any opportunity to spread appreciation for Rush.
“Vital Signs”
Moving Pictures ends with
the fairly experimental, “Vital Signs” which merges reggae and electronica to
create a Rush classic.
The lyrics are unusual by
Neil standards. But he ends with the phrases “Everybody got to deviate from the
norm” and “Everybody got to elevate from the norm.” When you are a teenage boy
who feels like an outcast much of the time, this is a rallying cry.
The album cover
I have a wonderful job
that allows me to meet many incredible people and visit amazing places. One special
day, I was allowed to tag along when my boss visited Toronto.
Now, there were many
fascinating things that occurred on that day, including sitting in the far back
seat of an SUV wedged between the general consuls of two countries. These are
the kinds of things the uncool kid in high school would have a difficult time
believing could ever happen to him 30 years on.
Our agenda that day
included a meeting with the premier of Ontario. As I sat in
her outer office, it occurred to me that I was not just sitting in a beautiful
and historic Canadian building. I was sitting in the Ontario Legislative
Building.
Had we arrived at the main entrance,
and not a side entrance closer to the street, I would have seen the three distinctive
arches and short steps.
Yes, I was in the very building on
the cover of Moving Pictures.
While there were many interesting
things on the walls, I could not find the framed paintings of the Starman logo
or the dogs playing poker.
It’s all well and good that I didn’t
realize this right away. Because I’m not sure the others in my travel party
would have appreciated my demand that we all re-create the album cover.
So there we are, with Rush albums
ranked from the least glorious to Moving Pictures.
What did we learn from this
exercise?
First, there is something special
about a band with longevity, especially when you become a fan fairly early in
its career. Rush was with me from high school to college to jobs to a marriage
to kids and friends to new jobs and homes and growing older.
Second, Rush is really, really good. The bulk of the music
stands the test of time. It was a challenge ranking the albums, especially in
the middle. There are great songs and great memories associated with all of
them.
And Will jumps in:
No. 1: Moving Pictures
Released in 1981
Well, I couldn't have said that any better ... but I'm going to try.
No, just kidding. After all that, what's left to
say?
I have a few things, and I'll do them in bullet
form:
* "Red Barchetta" was THE song that
got me into Rush, period. Loved the story, loved the sound. That said, it isn't
my favorite song on the album. "Witch Hunt" is.
* Six of the seven songs made my top 1,000, the
highest ratio of any album with that many songs on it. The only albums that had
more songs make my list were the double album Quadrophenia, by The Who, and
Ten, by Pearl Jam, which has more songs than Moving Pictures does. The only
song from Moving Pictures that didn't make my list is "Limelight." It
was an early favorite, one of the many things I played to death back in the
Eighties ... which is why I probably don't like it as much any more. I just got
tired of it, unlike, say, "Tom Sawyer," which I played to death but
probably never will get tired of hearing.
* Moving Pictures is not my favorite album of
all time by any group. (Quadrophenia is.) I didn't do an album ranking, but
Moving Pictures has to be in my top 5, maybe No. 3. The only albums I know for
sure I'd rank ahead of it are Quadrophenia and Duke, by Genesis. I'd probably
also rank Lifehouse ahead of it if it existed as a Who album in 1971 the way
Pete Townshend finally assembled it in 1999 as a solo effort. (Most of
Lifehouse ended up on Who's Next. You might have heard something off that album
once or twice ... or 10,000 times.)
* I've cited Bill James before, and because he's
my favorite author, I'm going to close by citing him again: In his New
Historical Baseball Abstract, James writes about how Satchel Paige is a victim
of revisionist history (or attempts to make other players look better). He says
it's become common to write things like Paige wasn't even the best pitcher on
the Monarchs, let alone the best pitcher in Negro League history if not all of
baseball history. James doesn't buy it, and the reason is that Paige is the
reference point in any such discussion. Everyone has to compare with Paige,
because ... well, he IS the greatest. The same thing with Walter Johnson and
his fastball. As James points out, Johnson was the reference, because his
fastball WAS the best.
You see this with music. It's become hip and
cool to make lists of albums where Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band by The
Beatles isn't listed No. 1. Heck, you often will see that it isn't even the No.
1 Beatles album. Someone will rank Revolver or Rubber Soul ahead of Sgt.
Peppers, saying that those albums laid the groundwork for Sgt. Peppers and hold
up better than Sgt. Peppers does: "Revolver is the best album, not even
barring Sgt. Peppers." It's the same thing as with Satch or The Big Train.
Sgt. Peppers IS the best Beatles album--and, by extension, the greatest album
of all time--again, because it's the reference point.
That's where we are with Rush and Moving
Pictures. Moving Pictures IS Rush's greatest album, period. The difference
between Moving Pictures and Sgt. Peppers is that NO ONE tries to argue that
another Rush album is better than Moving Pictures. Sure, people might have
different favorites--my brother the other day told me he'd put Signals in his
top slot--but if we're talking quality, the vote is unanimous.
So, that's all I have to say. I'd like to thank
Dave for including me in this exercise. It was fun, and I'm looking forward to
Good Ol' No. Pete Rose--14, as in this will be my 14th Rush concert. If it's my
final one, because the boys aren't going to tour any more, I leave with no
regrets.
And here is the rest of your Rush R40 Countdown:
No. 2: Hold Your Fire (Dave), Presto (Will)
No. 3: Permanent Waves (Dave), Signals (Will)
No. 4: Roll the Bones (Dave), Permanent Waves (Will)
No. 5: Power Windows (Dave), Roll the Bones (Will)
No. 6: Test for Echo (Dave), Grace Under Pressure (Will)
No. 7: Signals (Dave), A Farewell to Kings (Will)