There was a certain 'no duh' quality to the thesis of Malcolm Gladwell's most recent book "Outliers" -- people who have accomplished great feats of discovery and achievement are both born with some innate talent and in their early stages of development given the opportunity to hone their craft over for at least 1,000 hours. It's a method for success that worked for Beethoven, Bill Gates and the Beatles. And in Sam Dunn's and Scot McFadyen's painstakingly detailed and intimate portrait of a few Canadian guys cursed to "skate on their ankles" -- it worked for prog-rock legends Rush.
Formed by Alex Lifeson
and Geddy
Lee in the late 60s and completed with the addition of Neil Peart
in the late 70s, Rush started out, as most great bands have, with a
couple of nerds who couldn't play sports or talk to girls. When the
drinking age in Canada was lowered to 19 leading to an outcropping of
clubs geared towards a younger audience. So while their suburbanite peers were all playing hockey, Rush was playing up to five gigs a
night, affording them the resources to record their first single,
"Working Man". The 7-minute grimy epic was perfect for what disc jockeys were
constantly seeking at the time, "bathroom songs", tracks that were long
enough for the staff to freshen up but weird enough to hold listeners'
attention. Rush then landed an opening gig with Kiss, a band with zero
song craft but an extremely cohesive concept and presentation. The
paradox of this pairing is only briefly commented upon, Lifeson
speaks with great admiration about how much Kiss tour and how formative
that was for Rush to see firsthand early on. Kiss frontman (and
professional sleazeball) Gene Simmons recalls that Rush were a bunch of
weird kids that would go back to their hotel rooms and practice rather
than get raucous or ahem, spend time with female fans. This last bit
truly delighted the sold out, immensely proud Toronto crowd I saw the
film with.
Made with the full
cooperation of the band and ipso facto, their legions of devoted fans
(Rush's own outliers are quite obsessive collectors), including a bevy
of interviews with "respectable" rock musicians trotted out that range
from merely establishing Rush's industry-wide influence (Primus's
Les Claypool, Metallica's
Kirk Hammett, Dream Theater's Mike Portnoy and Pantera's Vinnie
Paul) to deep, philosophical engagement on what it means to be a
creative genius who the public deems terminally uncool (Billy Corgan,
Jack Black, Trent Reznor, Rage Against
the Machine's Tim Commerford
and "South Park" co-creator Trey Parker).
Beyond the Lighted Stage documents many of the turning points
in Rush's sound and personal lives. Nineteen albums over the course of
thirty-five years lends itself to a great deal of introspection, and the
group has experienced enough success to maintain a comfortable
lifestyle though not enough to let them relax into any sense of their
own place in the rock'n'roll
pantheon. Similar to last year's The Agony and the Ecstasy of Phil Spector,
we see that at a certain point, commercial success becomes a blur and
the random metrics of prestige take on a monstrous level of importance
in the creators' mind. For Spector, it's being depicted
on a stamp, for Rush it's being in the Rock'n'Roll
Hall of Fame. For most of us, a stamp is a mundane office supply and
the Rock'n'Roll
Hall of Fame is a place you might go if your car broke down in
Cleveland. The better music documentaries will break through the noise
and self-pity and get to the psychological roots of people who are
expected to remain fresh and creative while being constantly criticized
and compared to people whose work may have only a dim similarity.
It's immediately apparent Rush's longevity hinges on their
mutual respect for one another and a monk-like worth ethic, beyond that
anything goes. They've delight in experimenting with instrumentation
throughout their career, the 1980s were a particularly harrowing time
for Rushies who weren't fans
of synthesizers and Peart's drumkit has grown so much
over the years that at their concerts he looks like he's been exiled to
a fortress of percussive accoutrement. Style of dress and stage
presentation have also drastically changed with passing trends, at one
point the band looks back over their "Japanese silk robe uniform phase"
with pained delight. The bandmates
also have extremely divergent views on how to interact with fans, Lee
will shake every hand and sign every autograph while Peart
is known to (politely) have even the most famous Rushies
removed by security to avoid interacting with his admirers. These
ancillary details are what break up most bands, but they don't even seem
to irritate the members of Rush.
Far more appealing to a prog-rock neophyte is the
traditional immigrant story at the heart of Rush. Lifeson's
and Lee's parents both fled warzones and persecution
to go to a foreign place with the hopes of giving their children a
better life. A kitchen table discussion captured on super8 of a teenage Lifeson
explaining to his teary-eyed parents that he wants to drop out of high
school to pursue his music career seems like a sentimental, unnecessary
detail until you see that behind their perfectionism and drive is a fear
of failure has much higher emotional stakes than it ever did for the
members of Kiss or Led Zeppelin.
Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage screened at Hot Docs 2010 and will be in Portland at Cinema 21 June 10th-12th.
Ugh... The drinking age was lowered to 18, not 19. Peart joined in the MID -seventies, not LATE-seventies, and not once did the band members express "self-pity" -- or even mention -- not being in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Steve Cobert mentioned it on his television show, but that's it. It's amazing how you can criticize others when you can't even do your own job well!
Posted by: Unfinished Wood | June 27, 2010 at 11:10 PM
was their really a need for you to bash KISS, and Gene Simmons the way you did?
Posted by: Tony R | June 27, 2010 at 11:27 AM
Actually Neil Peart was on board just after the release of the self-titled debut album, probably around late '74 or early '75. I really wouldn't call that "late 70s".
Going to see it on the 15th; looking forward to it!
Posted by: Wrial Huden | June 11, 2010 at 08:28 PM