Let’s get a painful fact out of the way: prog rock is not cool. To the uninitiated, it’s a genre that peaked about 50 years ago, overpopulated with nerds fannying about in capes and playing 25-minute keyboard solos. That is, with one exception.
Rush were never about that shit. The Ontario trio, now regarded as the great prog band of all time and on the cusp of an extremely hyped reunion, never wrote twiddly bits for the sake of it. They started as a primal, forceful, blues rock band, and they didn’t lose any of their oomph as they expanded their vision to write sci-fi epics and technical instrumentals. They had an urgency and seriousness that let them go down, despite the cliches of their genre, as one of the coolest fucking bands to ever do it.
Guitarist Alex Lifeson co-founded Rush in 1968, with singer/bassist Geddy Lee joining the following year. Lee revered the Beatles and jazz musicians, people which also influenced such contemporaries as Yes and Genesis, while Lifeson loved the ballsy stuff. They jammed Cream and Jimi Hendrix at their earliest concerts, and critics compared the thunder of their self-titled debut album to Led Zeppelin.
When drummer Neil Peart joined in 1974, he brought with him a style shaped by the ear-shattering might of Keith Moon and John Bonham, as well as the jazzy athletics of Carl Palmer and Buddy Rich. His lyrics touched on weird sci-fi shit (2112) and The Lord Of The Rings (Rivendell), but they were more often human, honest and relatable. The Spirit Of Radio was about the joy of listening to music; when the band paired those words with five minutes of driving, upfront music, it became the ultimate ‘blare this while speeding in a convertible’ anthem.
When Rush’s classic lineup locked in – as they did with the ludicrous hot streak of 2112, A Farewell To Kings, Hemispheres, Permanent Waves and Moving Pictures – they seemed to make music that could appeal to everyone. Prog nerds clung to the sweeping suites and moments of fantastical poetry. Hard rock jocks were served big, cathartic riffs by the bucketload, with the likes of A Passage To Bangkok and The Temples Of Syrinx foreseeing the progressive metal genre 20 years in advance. Meanwhile, Closer To The Heart and Tom Sawyer displayed undisputed pop chops.
Even when Rush did embrace their bombastic side lyrically and compositionally, they never accompanied that with silly visual gimmicks or mindless showing off. Everything they did was in service of the song, no matter how long it was: even Lifeson’s guitar solo on part four of the 20-minute 2112 was a disciplined yet cacophonous attack, fitting the aggression of that portion. Peart explained his straightforward writing philosophy to George Stroumboulopoulos in 2012.
“First, what does the listener need to know?” he said. “I stay a rhythm [player] as strong as I can … ‘Here’s the rhythm, now here’s all the ways I’m going to play with it.’ But first, I want to state it clearly.”
Plus, onstage, Rush were simply three dudes playing the hell out of their instruments. There’s YouTube footage from a show in 1976, the height of prog rock posturing, where the most flamboyant thing about them is the light show.
Because of that un-pretentiousness and universal appeal, bands of every genre have talked about how sick Rush are. Of course there are the usual suspects: Mike Portnoy of Dream Theater has spoken repeatedly about the impact Neil Peart made on him and his playing. The same goes for Tool’s Danny Carey, and jazz composer Brad Mehldau has covered the band in the past.
But, at the same time, Metallica have played Rush stuff live onstage. And did you know that Dave Mustaine of fellow thrash metal legends Megadeth once listed 2112 as his 10th-favourite album ever made? “I heard that weird pedal effect at the beginning [of the title track] and thought, ‘Are you kidding me?!’” he told The Quietus. “That was the opening of a whole new world.”
Over in the world of alt-rock, Billy Corgan from The Smashing Pumpkins once referred to Rush as “the best of the best”. His first band was even a Rush tribute act. If you want further proof of Rush’s generations-spanning legacy, one of pop’s biggest stars right now, 28-year-old Yungblud, frequently listened to 2112 on the bus ride to school.
In 2025, the fact stands the way it did in 1975: whether you love rock or jazz, pop or prog, Rush are just fucking cool! There’s a good chance that their 2026 reunion shows will welcome a new audience who weren’t old enough to catch them on their last tour 10 years ago. That’s because they transcended fashion trends for decade after decade.
You must confirm your public display name before commenting
Please logout and then login again, you will then be prompted to enter your display name.
