This is a re-run of a post written in 2008 about my first concert — and my first time ever seeing Rush. I went with my good buddy Beans – we were only 13 and hard rock shows in the early 80′s were insane.
This is timely today because I’m going to see Rush live again tonight. I love that I still dig these guys decades later. Believe me, there is nothing like a Rush show — mind blowing.
There are few things more manly than RUSH.
I can count the number of women that I know that like the band on one hand, and have met few guys who don’t own at least one CD from Geddy, Neil, and Alex.
I’ve loved Rush since junior high, and they’ve remained one of my favorite bands though the years. One of my proudest days as a parent was when my son, Alec, asked me to make him a Rush CD. I damn near teared up.
I was lucky enough to see them again last weekend with three of my best buds and go back in time a bit in the process.
We saw them at The Gorge Amphitheater, which is a natural miracle a few hours east of Seattle. The venue is really cool, but seeing a show there is a chore. You either camp or make a sketchy three-hour drive back home after midnight. Against every fiber in my being, we decided to camp. Now, I’m not a big camper. I just don’t see the argument for living like a homeless person for a night when I can spring for a hotel — with a bar and maid service. But I did it.
It was much easier to camp at The Gorge and party like a rock star when I was in my 20′s, which I did many times. Not so much in my (very) late 30′s. We opted for the “premium camping” which advertised “flushable toilets.” After experiencing the horror of Honey Buckets for over 20 years you jump — with your wallet open when you hear “flushable toilets.”
I was able to trick my body into thinking I was in my 20′s throughout the night, but was reminded of my real age the next morning as I woke up in a tent with a pillow drenched in light rain. Like a punch in the face.
I first saw Rush in 1984 on the “Grace Under Pressure” tour when Alex was fully immersed in the Miami Vice look. It was my very first concert after begging my parents for years to see a show. This was back when concerts were raw, edgy, and a little dangerous. I was only 14 and was so excited that within minutes I owned a Rush t-shirt, program, and bandanna. I was ready for anything … or so I thought.
I went with two friends who were equally as naive. While waiting between the opening act (Gary Moore of Thin Lizzy), a reject from “Dazed and Confused” lit and then threw an entire package of firecrackers into the general admission area. It was then I knew that I had bitten off more than I could chew. We quickly grabbed all our merchandise and made our way through the pot infested crowd up to safety — our reserved seats that we paid $14 for. That $14 included a fifty cent Ticketmaster charge. How funny is that? This was obviously before they decided to hold us all hostage with fees as big as the GDP of a small nation. Bastards.
The band started right after we got into our seats and I will forever have a smile on my face when I hear the beginning of “The Spirit of Radio.” I’m not sure there is a better song to open a show with.
The first five minutes of your first Rush show is like a blur. You realize immediately that these three guys are some of best musicians in the world. They are at the top of their craft in their respective instruments and don’t mind showing off a bit.
As the band headed into “Red Barchetta,” a tough guy with a bad pre-teen mustache sat beside me and put a handful of joints between us on the bench seat. It was like he was daring me to take them– in a very “Robert Conrad” sort of way. He just stared at me. I sat there sweating for what must have been forever until Neil ripped into his drum solo. The world around me stopped and my jaw dropped as Neil did things I never thought possible. My life was changed, and while I still suck at playing the drums, he is an influence to anyone wanting to perfect their passion. After the solo was over, I was in a weird zone clutching my program, and the guy was gone– joints and all.
Seeing Rush again and taking a step back into time was fantastic. Even though it took me a week to catch up on my sleep, the camping was worth it. My buddy Earl even said he almost cried during “Freewill,” and I get that. Music that has soul and means something can do that to a guy. Even a tough guy.
