I've gone into chapter and verse about my affinity for Rush several times here (most recently here), so it should not come as any great news that I am profoundly saddened by news of the death of Neil Peart.
In a nutshell, though, Rush were never hip, god bless'em. Arguably too proggy, twiddly, geeky and/or shrieky, they were lambasted by all and sundry as the ultimate nerd band, rivaled only by Devo (another band I'm slavishly devoted to). Championed by greaseball heshers and bespectacled computer programmers alike, Rush deftly fused dizzying musical chops, a Zepplinesque propensity for sonic wallop and a tireless penchant for indecipherably eggheaded lyrics (penned by eight-armed Ayn Rand disciple/drummer Neil Peart). They were not tough. They were not sexy. You didn't find girls shedding their tops at their shows. But still -- they were Rush. They wrote "Spirit of Radio," "A Passage to Bangkok" and "Subdivisions." You didn't. They rock. You don't.
One of the more polarizing bands of my youth, Rush were always an absolute favorite. They may be a punchline to you, but they deserve your goddamn respect.
Rest In Peace, Neil Peart. You are irreplaceable.
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