I was reminiscing about my percussive youth while listening to some Rush the other day. This thought occurred to me: I enjoyed a fifteen year journey of learning my instrument, followed by a thirty year season of performing with my instrument. And I’m still chugging along. It's fascinating how the human mind can remember music with such clarity. I’ve always been able to remember rhythm, tone, melody, tempo, instruments and vocals as clearly as if I were to put on a MP3/CD/LP of the same.
The ability to do multiple things at the same time while performing....live....from memory....is no small feat. Add to that playing multiple instruments at once while singing and keeping the beloved crowd engaged. Consider that at a minimum Rush's guitarist Alex Lifeson performs real-time on-stage triggering of sampled instruments, concurrently with his rich guitar playing. Bassist Geddy Lee is constantly employing digital samplers, also concurrently with his bass playing and vocals. To trigger these sounds in real-time, Lee uses MIDI controllers, placed at the locations on the stage where he has a microphone stand. Lee uses two types of MIDI controllers: Moog Mini-Moog used like a keyboard and Mood Taurus Bass Pedals used with his feet. Neal Peart is busy in his own right while fully engaged, performing his intricate drum tracks at the center of his full 360 degree envelopment of acoustic drums, cymbals, electronic triggers and other percussive instruments.
If one listens carefully to most of Rush's songs at the specific point where verse transitions to chorus, Geddy has to transition from Moog to bass and then back to Moog again, in an instant as tempo and arrangement demand. This is accomplished much more easily in the studio than it is live where there are no do-overs or retakes. For me it's kinda cool to go back and listen to those nostalgic points in their music, enjoying those diverse and complex moments.
Pretty amazing how they have been a band since 1968 and yet the 'ol coots were still going strong until 2015 when the ravages of old age forced them to finally retire. But not because they could no longer play, but because they wanted to have their final curtain call while at the top of their game. Granted, few individuals can afford to do this.
No moral to this particular mini-autobiography. Just a fascination as to what can be accomplished when three people resolve to work together for a common goal while journeying through life together.
Now that I think about it, there is a valuable life lesson there.
But the story doesn’t end there…..
In 1984 I received something totally awesome in the mailbox. It was from my drumming hero (back then).......the afore mentioned Neil Peart. Part of what I wrote him will become self evident as you peruse this postcard below. Neil had a tremendous influence on my playing back then. I probably played along with Rush's "Moving Pictures" several hundred times in the basement (bless my Mother's patient heart). Part of my motivation for contacting Neil back then was to try desperately to convince him to do some kind (any) kind of drum clinic at my favorite music shop near Hartford, Connecticut. I hand wrote and mailed a two pager which apparently Neil enjoyed because in return, I very unexpectedly received this, subsequently blowing my mind:
Thank you Neil for all of those fond musical memories in my basement. Due to your influence, in part, I have achieved a level of percussive proficiency that allows me to play in various venues and assorted opportunities while having a lot of fun. With a life long career in architecture I've never had to play for monetary gain and I still get to play at least twice a week in our local orchestra. I guess I've enjoyed the best of both worlds.
Rest in peace, Neil!
Jim
Good piece; thanks for sharing!