The Passing Of A Drumming Giant

When news started trickling in that iconic Rush drummer Neil Peart had passed, I didn't believe it. Working at home from my office, a friend of mine had sent me a message to alert me of the news, but I had been through this before. In fact as early as the early 1980's, there were always rumors that Neil Peart had contracted any number of debilitating cancers or had died. But this was disturbing enough for me to check into. Then upon my own investigation on the internet, I started seeing announcements of his death from some other music websites that I hadn't heard of before. More suspiciously, Nick Mason's (drummer of Pink Floyd) picture had appeared where a picture of Neil was supposed to be so I had further doubts as to the validity of this announcement. I had also read that a week or so earlier Neil's first drum teacher, Don George, had passed away so I was sure that somehow, the wires had been crossed and Neil was fine enjoying his retirement, his family and his life. In fact, I even wrote back to my friend with the headline saying "False Alarm".

Until 'Rolling Stone' magazine confirmed the news. And the article was lengthy....

This told me two things: 1) The article had already been prepared in advance and was published when the news was made official. That meant that this was not sudden. 2) Whatever I think of Rolling Stone as a magazine, they are usually correct as far as music news is concerned. As I started to try and accept the reality that my brain was having real difficulties in accepting, this was a real punch in the gut. A devastating personal blow. A musical and lyrical hero of mine who had always seemed so strong, so independent and in control. Heroes like this are not supposed to die. Certainly, not like this. That's what the 11 year old in me thinks. The near 50 year old in me, however, knows differently.

Coincidently, a woman who I had recently begun seeing had bought me a lovely framed, black and white head-shot photo of Neil Peart during the 'Permanent Waves' era sitting behind his kit simply grinning at the camera as a holiday gift just a few weeks before. It was a lovely gesture and while she is not a fan, she knew of my love for the band and was kind enough to go through the effort of finding this photo for me. And now this lovely gift had a whole different kind of meaning.

Rush has been in life since 1981, the year of the release of one of their seminal albums 'Moving Pictures'. I was 11 in 1981 and was a young and aspiring drummer ready to move on from Peter Criss and 'Kiss' and get into more complicated aspects of drumming. Hearing drums played as compositions rather than simply time-keeping was new to me. The drums on the 'Moving Pictures' album sounded fresh, heavy, dynamic, fast, sympathetic, angry and the most original thing I had ever heard on a record. Then my sister took me as a birthday gift to my first Rush show at Radio City Music Hall in September, 1983. They may as well have been wearing capes in addition to their instruments because even at 13, these guys were super-heroes to me. Neil's lyrics spoke to me like they spoke to untold amounts of kids in my age bracket and proximity. 'Subdivisions' from 1982 could have been about anyone growing up in the suburbs and I was one of those kids. As I got older and matured, so did they. Some fans think that they're mid to late 1980's output was their weakest. "Too many keyboards" was one such argument. But I never thought that. I thought that they were evolving, experimenting and not satisfied with repeating themselves to the point of losing their spark or creativity. I related to them in that regard as I was going through high school and experiencing all of the up's and down's high school life can bring. Rush and Neil was like a friend that you see every couple of years. I saw evey tour, learned all of the lyrics on every album, memorized the liner notes from the respective albums and then tried to figure out how Neil was playing what he was playing. This was before videos became so commonplace. So the best thing I could do was to take the albums and slow them down to try and first figure out his patterns and then try and replicate that on my set of drums. So Neil and I spent a lot of time together. From 1983 until the final 'R40' tour in 2015, I never missed a tour. And I never felt leaving a show that they didn't 'bring it'. And that's after 48 shows. Never felt it was 'phoned in' or that they had passed their prime. They were always there. For nearly 40 of my nearly 50 years. They were simply there growing, aging and changing like the rest of us. Like I was.

With Rush, there were no breakups and reunions. No rehab stints. No embarrassing moments. No unreasonable demands for attention. No endless divorces, or drunken four letter rants. Just pure class and just good music. Just consistency in their craft. Inspiring music. Everlasting and classic music. Even their recorded finale 'Clockwork Angels' is to my mind is as good as anything they had released in their over forty year catalog of music. And that's how I enjoyed my relationship with the band. I never had a desire to meet them. When Neil suffered unimaginable tragedy and heart-break in 1997 and 1998, I felt as though a friend had suffered. When they returned in 2002 with the 'Vapor Trails' album and tour, I was there for them just as their music had always been there for me. When Neil started writing books and releasing them, he allowed the reader to peak a little bit into the man he was beyond the drums. For the man who was most private and apparently painfully shy around strangers, he actually offered the most personal insight. But always on his own terms and without apology. And when he invited the reader on his travels in the midst of a world tour, it was written so well and with such care that you would think you were with him on these travels. His ability to describe people, places and things is uncanny. But while he gave the fan all of this personal access, it was always at an arm's length. And I think most (sadly, not all) fans understood his position and respected it rather than demand more. "I can't pretend a stranger is a long awaited friend" is a famous line from the band's song 'Limelight'. It's as direct as he could get.

It is the cruelest twist of fate and the most maddening irony that for the man who used so much of his brain and was so intelligent and well-read, died from a brain cancer. It is a devastating reality that the two daughters he fathered, he was not able to see either of them grow up to be the women they would have been or are going to be. For the man who hated the road, fame and attention had finally decided to "tend to his own garden" and in less than two years was fighting a fight that even he could not win. And for his family, inner circle and fans around the world, life just doesn't seem "fair".

The greatest compliment I can give Neil Peart is that he taught me how to consider. How to think in broader terms than my own. His drumming taught me more than I can ever put to paper and more than I could ever play. But I'm a better drummer for having listened and been inspired by him. And I'm a better writer and reader for having read his books and memorized his lyrics for songs by Rush. And I never had to bother him personally to do it! He lived life to its maximum and did a lot of living in his 67 years. He traveled. He loved. He inspired. He influenced. He faced more tragedy and challenge than anyone should have to face and was strong enough to not just endure but to thrive. He left an incredible amount of work behind in both his songs and his words. He left a 'Vapor Trail' of greatness and of class. He is what a rock star should be. Humble. Aware. Intelligent. Respectful.

Generations from now, kids just learning how to play the drums or consider writing song-lyrics will have to pass through the Neil Peart phase of drumming. Just as guitar players have to pass through the Hendrix, Chuck Berry or Eddie Van Halen rooms of guitar playing. His influence is that steep. His words that memorable. His playing that iconic.

"Celebrate the moment".