When Prog Went Pop: Rush's 'Moving Pictures' Turns 40
Or, how an album changed a middle school garage band
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When Genesis released Duke in 1980, it included two singles, “Turn It On Again” and “Misunderstanding,” the first signs that prog rock’s time in the spotlight had come to an end.
Prog had turned pop.
“Turn It On Again” crossed the bridge by starting with a signature Tony Banks prog synth lick before morphing into a poppier structure. Most importantly, the song was three and a half minutes long instead of ten. “Misunderstanding” reached the other side with Phil Collins writing a killer pop song that would be the start of his signature hitmaker sound of the 80s and 90s.
Up north, longtime prog-metal band Rush released their seventh album, Permanent Waves, which found them exploring new wave and reggae. Like Genesis’ Duke, the songs were (relatively) shorter, and the band scored commercial success outside of Canada with “The Spirit of the Radio.”
Instead of resting on the album, Rush released Moving Pictures in early 1981, which would lead to the most commercially successful record of their careers.
Rush started as the world’s best Led Zeppelin cover band. Their self-titled debut is a mostly forgettable blues-rocker that is notable today because it is the only album not to feature drummer Neil Peart. After Peart joined bassist Geddy Lee and guitarist Alex Lifeson, they continued to explore blues but added prog elements on Fly By Night. Their third album, Caress of Steel, featured “The Fountain of Lamneth,” a sci-fi fantasy that was six parts long and took up the entire B-side of the record.
Rush was no longer a Zeppelin cover band (maybe there’s hope for Greta Van Fleet still; survey says “no”).
Starting in 1976, Rush would go on a three-album prog marathon, beginning with the legendary 2112 and A Farewell to Kings (which included their first real radio hit, “Closer to the Heart”). They concluded with Hemispheres, an album so musically meticulous that the band took a six-week vacation after the recording session’s conclusion.
By the end of the 70s, prog was losing its place to punk and was no longer cool. Rush saw the writing on the wall with Permanent Waves, but it’s the opening synth drop on “Tom Sawyer” that transcended the band to pop stardom.
“Tom Sawyer” is a rare song that is so ingrained in pop culture but still feels fresh every time you hear it. It’s also one of the most excellent openers to an album that features one of the best A-sides on a record.
Neil Peart had been writing the band’s lyrics since he joined for Fly By Night. Often based in mythology, the songs could be inaccessible and backed up Rush’s status as a prog band. With “Tom Sawyer,” Peart started expanding his inspirations. Fellow Canadian Pye Dubois wrote some of the lyrics and originally called it “Louie the Warrior” before Peart gave the song a second glance and changed it to “Tom Sawyer,” based on its rebellion and independence theme.
Let’s hope that “Today’s Tom Sawyer” wouldn’t join QAnon.
It’s also a memorable pop song on top of the lyrics because it doesn’t fit a typical pop song structure. Instead of verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, it throws the listener off with the verse leading to a bridge into a chorus, followed by a solo and repeat. Rush wrote Moving Pictures in a session more akin to jams instead of bringing ideas to the studio, and this song is a perfect example of its fruits.
Although not a radio hit, the next song, “Red Barchetta” is just as good as “Tom Sawyer” and consistently ranks in the top Rush songs. Featuring lyrics that still have a foot in prog, it’s about a society that has made car safety so restrictive that the main character sneaks to his uncle’s farm every weekend to drive his old two-door coupe. Geddy Lee’s vocals are especially significant on this track, as he hits his highest notes over Lifeson’s ripping guitar.
What about the voice of Geddy Lee?
How did it get so high?
I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy
(” I know him, and he does! “)
Well, you’re my fact-checkin’ cuz.
–Pavement, ”Stereo“
For me, Moving Pictures’ third song, “YYZ,” is the album’s signature track. Named after Toronto’s airport code, it’s an instrumental work that starts with Peart playing the song’s title in Morse code before letting all hell break loose. “YYZ” or “YYZed” for our northern friends (Canadians wrote the damn thing, so let’s go with that) is a jam full of the band’s signature prog metal riffs put neatly into a pop structure. Peart, Lifeson, and Lee are all given their opportunity to shine before the guitar solo gives way to a synth bomb that sounds straight off Van Halen’s 1984, which wouldn’t release for three more years.
I first heard “YYZ” in 1997. Having just started playing guitar the year before, I listened to a healthy music diet of Smashing Pumpkins, Soundgarden, and Pearl Jam, with Zeppelin being the closest thing to Rush. Grunge was dying its slow death, but prog and new wave were definitely “not cool.”
I’ve had a theory for many years that as long as thirteen-year-olds exist, Metallica will always have fans. My similar idea is that as long as kids are taking drum lessons, there will be Rush fans.
With a middle school full of new friends, I started playing with a drummer and bassist. Named the Testostertones (teenage boys are fucking hilarious), we were most interested in playing Red Hot Chili Peppers, Offspring, and 311 covers.
One day, the drummer, Charlie, played “YYZ” for us, along with the rest of Exit… Stage Left, the live album that followed the Moving Images tour. I’d mostly only known sludgy power chords, and Rush was a revelation. Songs didn’t always have to include catchy choruses, and it was alright to lean into the music and jam.
“YYZ” lead to us writing our only hit, a song creatively titled “Rush.” Solos were most uncool, and this was an instrumental jam that allowed for all three of us to reach back into prog’s past and enjoy the different sounds three teenagers in a garage could make.
I recall playing a birthday party in a giant barn, the three of us aptly placed in front of an enormous stuffed grizzly bear. We’d planned to play some new songs, but more time spent on gas station runs and watching DVDs meant we now didn’t sound so hot. It turned out to be a success, though, as we played an hour set, alternating between the newly minted “Rush” and The Offspring’s “Come Out and Play.
After “YYZ,” the A-side finishes its flawless run with “Limelight,” another Rush classic. It deals with Peart’s discomfort with fame and rock star status. In 1988, Geddy Lee said:
“Limelight was probably more of Neil’s song than a lot of the songs on that album in the sense that his feelings about being in the limelight and his difficulty with coming to grips with fame and autograph seekers and a sudden lack of privacy and sudden demands on his time ... he was having a very difficult time dealing with. I mean we all were, but I think he was having the most difficulty of the three of us adjusting; in the sense that I think he’s more sensitive to more things than Alex [Lifeson] and I are, it’s difficult for him to deal with those interruptions on his personal space and his desire to be alone. Being very much a person who needs that solitude, to have someone coming up to you constantly and asking for your autograph is a major interruption in your own little world.”
The B-side includes three more tracks, with “The Camera Eye,” being my favorite. It clocks in at over ten minutes and is what I would consider being the band’s last prog track. Divided into two parts, it’s about the cultural differences of New York and London. “Witch Hunt” is the weakest moment on the album, but I’m also not the biggest fan of the “Fear Series” tracks.
The record’s closer, “Vital Signs” is the band exploring reggae again, with vibes coming from The Police. It’s a preview of the band’s next era in which they leaned even more into pop and synthesizers. When you’re first learning about Rush, it’s often the most maligned period, and one doesn’t go past Moving Images, but it has become my favorite era (at the moment).
With its legendary cover, another piece by Hugh Syme, and its chart-topping songs, Moving Pictures was proof that prog could adapt to pop. It leads to many older prog bands getting the most extensive commercial hits of their careers, like Yes’ “Owner of a Lonely Heart” and The Moody Blues’ “Your Wildest Dreams.”
Sixteen years after its release, it also showed three grunge kids that jamming and prog rock could be cool. I know we weren’t the only ones.
What album changed the way you looked at music? Do you have any lost Testostertones memorabilia, photos, or archival footage?