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In 2024, to celebrate the reissue of Swervedriver’s “lost” 1998 album 99th Dream, Adam Franklin joined Louder to talk us through Swervedriver’s back catalogue, one album at a time.

Raise (1991)

We hadn’t been together that long when we started work on Raise. We’d recorded three EPs with Creation Records already, and then it came to the album. When we’d been looking for a label to get started with, Creation had been literally the last label we’d intended to give a cassette to. We had a bunch of cassettes made up of our demo which we gave to various labels. We had one left over and we thought, ‘What shall we do with this? Creation? They won’t sign us but let’s give one to Mark [Gardener, of Ride]”. And then the story is [Creation founder] Alan McGee was in LA in the back of a car looking for some music to play. He finds this tape given to him by Mark, of this band Swervedriver from Oxford and he puts it in – straight away it sounds great. He contacted us immediately and said “I wanna sign you”. And then things just happened very quickly.

Over time, signing with Creation informed the whole legacy of Swervedriver and the way we were perceived. If we weren’t on Creation we probably wouldn’t have been called shoegaze. I think the perception of us would’ve been quite different, and I don’t think that would’ve been that much down to the music – although we were also inspired by our surroundings. I think you do end up being inevitably influenced and inspired by what’s going on around you. If you’re living in London in that environment with those bands around you it’s going to rub off; if we’d been living in New York and hanging out with a whole bunch of different bands we probably would have sounded different.

We get into a studio in London to record the album and I remember thinking that the final tracklisting wasn’t what I wanted. It was a McGee thing, where he said “we’ve got to have the three singles on the album, because it’ll be like the Sex Pistols album”. McGee had the right plan, but it meant that the actual album was three singles – Son Of Mustang Ford, Rave Down and Sandblasted – and only six new songs. Considering we’d put out three EPs by then, which was 12 songs, in some ways I think it was quite strange that the album came out with only six new songs. But it was a wise choice to have the three singles on there.

The great thing about this album, I think, is that everybody got the idea. Everybody bought into it, into the whole thing – the song titles, sunset, the driving thing. I think it creates a mood, and you enter into the mood of the album, and that’s probably the best thing you can say about a good album – that you step inside it and you’re taken away for 35 minutes.

The actual sound is a bit lumpy as far as we’re concerned, as Son Of Mustang Ford and Rave Down are from different sessions, but it’s a great album. I love this record. It’s massively flawed, as they all are, but I think you can clearly hear this is just around the time I’d got a Vox AC30 and a Boss reverb pedal as well as the Marshall. There’s something a bit warped about the sound, like it’s been left out in the sun or something.

Standout track: Rave Down. It was the first recording we were really happy with and it just has this energy to it that is brilliant.

Mezcal Head (1993)

So Raise is released, then we go on tour, and… the band falls apart almost immediately. Graham Bonner, our drummer, famously left for a sandwich after a show in Boston never to return. We heard he was found wandering in no man’s land by Canadian Mounties. They came on the bus and said “One of your party has defected!” It turned out he could only speak to one member of the entourage, which was [guitarist] Jimmy Hartridge, so Jimmy went in and sat down with him and he said “I can’t go on”. So we gave him enough money to get to San Francisco, where he ended up staying for years.

So we had to move from no band to getting a band together. We were down to two at one point as our bassist, Adi Vines, had also left before recording began. We had all these songs appearing – Duress was there, which was good, and Duel and Blowin Cool – but we didn’t really have a band. We had to find a drummer.

There were two drummers in line – one of whom had a Ford Mustang, the other didn’t – Jez Hindmarsh didn’t have the Ford Mustang, but he ended up getting the gig. We didn’t get a bass player in time so we covered the bass ourselves. We holed up in the same rehearsal space in Camden Town with an 8-track recorder and set about demoing these songs. It was quite exciting because Jez is quite a different drummer from Graham, and obviously Adi wasn’t there, so it was either me or Jim playing the bass. The rhythm section totally changed, it sounded different and Jez played in a much more expansive way.

We end up getting in the studio with Alan Moulder again. The funny thing is that apart from the actual personnel of the musicians, the people who were around were the same. The road crew, the recording crew and the management. It astonishes me now when I think about the timeline. When you think about how little I’ve done in recent times, compared to when we were suddenly having to completely reconstruct the band and get an album together and out on the road again.

My thoughts on Mezcal Head are that I would’ve changed the tracklisting slightly. I may have taken A Change Is Gonna Come off, possibly, but I appreciate that that song was quite different and it’s quite a strange song for us. But I would probably replace that with Planes Over The Skyline, which I think should’ve been on the album. And The Hitcher – I think The Hitcher is a classic lost Swervedriver song. Those two songs I think would go on the album, possibly in place of A Change Is Gonna Come and You Find It Everywhere. But I say that and other people say “Oh but I love that song!” or “You can’t replace that one!” and I think that’s what happens in the end – however flawed an album might be, or how much you think you could improve it, in the end people just want it how it is.

The second verse of Harry And Maggie is literal, by the way. Harry is my friend who’s a stone mason, and still is, and he really did get commissioned to redo the gargoyles on the Houses of Parliament. And he really did scrawl “Maggie sucks” on the back of them before they got stuck on. So on the Houses of Parliament there are these gargoyles and they say “Maggie sucks”. And like I say in the song, in 500 years if somebody picks them up, that graffiti will be there. It’s best that they just live there like that, like these songs live within us.

Standout track: I’ve been asked before what I’d say if an alien came down from another planet and asked for the best Swervedriver song, and Duel is probably the most all-encompassing. If there’s a Swervedriver vision, it’s in there somewhere.

Ejector Seat Reservation (1995)

We came back from touring Mezcal Head and hunkered down in the studio, but there was a sea change happening outside the studio as far as what was going on musically. There were people wearing 70s Adidas T-shirts with the three stripes down the sleeve and people had short spiky hair – just a few months before it was long hair and plaid. Things had suddenly changed without a shadow of a doubt. Of course, that sea change extended in our case to A&M dropping us two thirds of the way through the album, which meant consequently Creation did also.

When we did this album, from our own point of view we wanted to change our sound. Mezcal Head had all these drum samples and big sounds but we wanted it to sound more clattery, and although we got Alan Moulder again we wanted actually the sound of Jez’s kit. Half the songs were recorded at our own studio, so it was a much more rough and ready sound.

There was definitely more English references because we were aware we were perceived as being transatlantic and we wanted to be less American. So instead of Son Of Mustang Ford you’ve got Son Of Jaguar E. I think this album was great – the problem was with the marketing. At the time, Britpop was everything, and by this point all the bands were doing songs that started with the acoustic guitar and then the strings came in. And it was like, “Ahh, for God’s sake” – we’d actually done Last Day On Earth before anyone had released anything like that – I swear! – and the idea behind Last Day On Earth was having strings on this song that would appear towards the end of the album, which would freak everyone out because they’d go “fucking hell, Swervedriver have got strings!”. But McGee didn’t see it. We wanted The Other Jesus to be the single. For me it was The Other Jesus – that’s the song that said Swervedriver’s back, but McGee couldn’t hear it unfortunately. They released Last Day On Earth which was a bullshit selection and, again, I think it probably changed the perception of the band, because people were like “Oh, Britpop’s come along and now Swervedriver have got acoustic guitar and strings”. This track was meant to be the penultimate track on the album, it wasn’t meant to be the lead single. And anyway, Creation then put the album out and dropped us a week later anyway.

Ejector Seat Reservation didn’t get a fair shot in that it wasn’t released in our biggest marketplace. It didn’t come out in the US, so from that point of view it certainly wasn’t given a fair whack. But I do think there was some great stuff on it. The lyrics on this album were a bit crazy in an interesting way. I remember there were things from dreams being put into the lyrics, but also around that time, because it was the Britpop era, there was a lot of cocaine going around London, so I guess it was cocaine imagery too.

Standout track: The Birds. The Birds is second only to Duel, I would say, as the greatest Swervedriver track. It’s been a standard of the set for a long time.

99th Dream (1998)

After A&M dropped us, Geffen were wanting to sign us, so we were like “Oh, great, we’ve got another big American label here wanting to put our records out”. They wanted Ejector Seat Reservation but didn’t get it, so they said “Shall we just carry on and get a new record together?” So that’s what we did.

Then the person who signed us at A&M lost their gig, and they brought in Michael Alago, the guy who discovered Metallica. He came over to cold, rainy Crouch End in February from LA. He was perfectly nice, he came over with a recording engineer, and they wanted to re-jig the album. It was the first time ever in the studio that we weren’t actually at the control desk calling the shots. I remember one morning I was the only one there, sat at the back, and Michael was saying to the producer “I want the acoustic guitars in there and the organ up”, and they did this mix of that song that sounded fucking horrible. That was really quite depressing, it was like “Ugh, god, this is the end”, really – there was only one of us in the studio, none of us has sat at the desk, we don’t even know these people. So that was a nightmare, but it was saved by the fact that Geffen changed their mind and said they didn’t want to put it out after all – but that we could keep it. So then it eventually came out with New York indie label Zero Hour in 1998.

The reception was lukewarm in some quarters, certainly in the UK. But I think it’s become more revered over time. Working on the reissue I realised how much was going on at this time, because there’s a lot of really good material. But what I didn’t like about the album personally was the singing. There was something I was trying to do there and I didn’t do it well, and I really can’t stand the vocals. And I think there was a general harshness to the album which has been softened up in this new remaster. The unreleased tracks on CD3 will probably blow a few people away, actually. I think if you’re going to put out unreleased tracks after a long time they ought to be pretty fucking good. And I think these ones are. They’ve got this energy to them and that really struck me.

We already knew we were going to have to do a double vinyl reissue, so it was a question of if we spread the 11 tracks across four sides or if we added a fourth side. I decided to add a fourth side, because the songs on there were all things that appeared on indie 7”s. So you have Why Say Yeah, 93 Million Miles From The Sun, The Director’s Cut Of Your Life. For me, side four is what makes it more of a whole, because I think those songs create more of an overall picture of what was going on with the band around the time. I think this album is flawed, they’re all flawed, but this representation does emphasise things you might have missed first time around.

Even though I don’t like the singing, I appreciate the songs. I think people will be surprised to hear what’s going on on this record considering it’s an album that was the last album a band did for 17 years. Creatively there’s no sign of the band running out of steam, I think it’s more the marketplace that was running out – we had less road to run on at that point.

Standout track: That’s a tricky one. The one track from this album that does always get in the sets is These Times, so we’ll go with that.

I Wasn’t Born To Lose You (2015)

In the years after we went on hiatus, sometimes I’d hear a Swervedriver song and think “Ah, that’s a good song. Shame I’ll never play that ever again”. But it felt like the band had its run and I was doing other things, putting out other records.

Initially, we just got back together to play shows, and that was really fun. I think that was probably in 2012 or something. It took a while before we actually recorded a new record. But eventually, it got to a point where Jimmy said, ‘Look, we want to do new stuff.’ So we started trying to write songs. I remember sending the band the demo for Deep Wound, and I think Steve [George, bassist]’s one-word response was ‘beautiful,’ and Jimmy’s one-word response was ‘nasty’. It was quite funny because they both happened to reply with just a single word.

We were very much aware that this was the first album in a long time and that it had to be good or it wasn’t worth doing. If it wasn’t good enough, we just wouldn’t put anything out. But it was really good for me, Jim, Steve, and Mikey, who’s playing the drums, actively trying to write an album. We had toured Raise not long before, so we had an idea of how an album should flow in our head.

I remember sitting down with the three of us at a rehearsal, and Steve said, “I feel we need a Duel, we need something.” It’s like, yeah, we do, but you can’t force these things. Because if you try and write a Duel, you’ll screw it up. But then, a few days later, we sort of had it, because Steve sent this piece of music. I thought, “What the fuck is this?” And it turned out it was the track Lone Star, but he’d reversed a section of it. And what it became was Everso, which became like the whole centrepiece for the album.

For me, and I’ve said this before, this is my favourite Swervedriver album. It’s one that I can actually put on just to listen to, which is quite something. The really interesting thing about the origins of this album is that there’s a recording of a sound check in Arizona in 1998; our sound manager recorded it, and I found the tape. Between us playing a couple of songs, you hear a guitar playing Lone Star‘s melody, and I thought, that’s quite cool. What is that? So I played it back. I don’t know if it’s me or Jimmy – I think it was me. But it was this really good riff that ends up being the main intro riff of Lone Star. So that whole tune came out of two seconds of a sound check in Arizona in 1998. And if Dave our soundman hadn’t recorded that and that song, that melody would have floated off into the ether and been lost, or picked up by somebody else. I do quite like the idea of musical archaeology – just finding this tape and this little thing and turning it into something else.

We definitely wanted to do an album that stood up against all the others, and in the end – and I mean, yeah, personal taste and all that – but for me I think we managed it.

Standout track: Everso. It’s the centrepiece, after all, and I think without Everso, the whole album might not have come together quite the way it did.

Future Ruins (2019)

We recorded this album in Los Angeles and Brighton, when we were offered some studio time in Los Angeles at the end of a tour. We had this lovely studio to go to, and two weeks in there. So we just got in there and recorded all this stuff – we recorded, I don’t know, 30-ish songs. There’s a lot of stuff in there. And then we got back to Brighton to reassemble it. And then did a whole year touring it.

The standout track is definitely The Lonely Crowd Fades In The Air. That title is a misheard Supremes lyric. The original lyric was ‘The lonely cry fades in the air.’ I misheard it as ‘The lonely crowd.’ And I thought, that’s a great lyric, then when I looked it up I realised it actually wasn’t the lyric, and that I could claim that lyric. I think there’s a desire to sort of subvert the language a little bit sometimes. You can have a rock song, and lyrically you can do anything you want with it. And quite often, people don’t even take it in. I mean, even after 30 years, you find out what somebody was singing, and you never knew that’s what they were singing. But I always thought if someone is gonna find out after 30 years what you were singing, they might as well have a pleasant surprise, and find that there’s just something kind of reasonable going on there.

I became more aware of this probably around 2000 or something – when I started playing solo shows, and I realised that the songs from my back catalogue I was more tempted to solo with were songs that had good lyrics, It didn’t matter if the music was good. Some of the Swervedriver songs don’t have that great lyrics, but I found myself playing the ones that had the interesting more meaningful lyrics.

The world’s continuously going to pot, isn’t it? And that’s in the lyrics. I think some people were a bit sort of disarmed that they felt Swervedriver were doing political lyrics, but they would have missed out on the political lyrics that were on Mezcal Head and Ejector Seat and things.

It’s difficult to have a perspective on this one because it’s so recent. But the title track was great and I love Theeascending, it’s a beautiful song. Spiked Flower was actually a Jimmy riff, and I ended up pretty surprised with the vocal, which I sang late at night – suddenly it was like, ‘oh, holy fuck’, I kind of surprised myself. I think sometimes you hear your own stuff, and when it’s something you’ve recorded and then gone out and toured and played live lots of times, you then have that live version in your head. So you go back, and you hear strange little production things and they can sometimes sound a little out of place.

There’s something coalescing in terms of a next album. I mean, literally, we have been radio silent for four years. But we did a bit of recording back in October in Oxford, we just haven’t gotten around to finishing it off yet. But there are some songs there, and some other stuff that’s creeping up. We’ve been searching for that mojo, and I think the mojo is coming back.

Standout track: Definitely The Lonely Crowd Fades in the Air. There’s something about it that is just… right.

Long before Dream Theater or Tool fused prog and metal, Rush were serving up long, intricate, lyrically mind-bending songs that mixed heaviness with intelligence. In 2013, as the Canadian trio geared up for a reissue of their iconic 1976 concept album 2112, bassist and vocalist Geddy Lee looked back on the history of the band who helped invent progressive metal.

Geddy Lee has a knowing smile. We’re sitting in the lavish surrounds of a room at one of London’s more exclusive hotels. And the subject that’s come up is how Rush are continuing to influence succeeding generations of metal bands.

“It’s nice to know there are young musicians who like what we’ve done,” says the bassist/vocalist. “It’s flattering that these people are taking what we once did and developing it for the modern age.”

When it comes to the birth of progressive metal, Rush have strong claims to be seen as the true pioneers of a style of music that has been taken by Dream Theater, Meshuggah, Cynic and Tesseract, to name but a handful. “I can’t say I’m familiar with the new crop of bands coming through, but all I can hope is that they enjoy the sort of career we’ve had. And stick to what they believe in as much as we’ve always done.”

For Rush, it all started rather unpromisingly in Toronto during August 1968. Guitarist Alex Lifeson put together the first lineup with bassist/vocalist Jeff Jones and drummer John Rutsey. Within a few weeks, Jeff was replaced by Geddy.

“I was a school pal of Alex’s and he asked me to come into the band,” explains Geddy. “But it wasn’t plain sailing back then. We went through a lot of different lineups over the next couple of years, with people coming and going. I don’t think we quite knew what we were doing. In our minds, we were the Canadian Led Zeppelin. In reality, we were probably seen as a bit sad. But at least we got to play regularly in local bars and at high-school dances.”

In May 1971, Geddy, Alex and John stabilised, and Rush were born as a power trio. Two years later they released their debut single. It was a cover of the Buddy Holly classic Not Fade Away, with the Geddy/John song You Can’t Fight It on the B side.

“It wasn’t a success,” laughs Geddy. “We didn’t get much radio airplay, and the media in general was indifferent to it. In fact, such was the lack of interest in us that we couldn’t even get a record deal. We were forced to start our own label in conjunction with our manager, Ray Danniels.”

By 1974, the band had released their self-titled debut album, which got noticed by one radio station in Cleveland, Ohio. “We got little support at home. But WMMS in Cleveland picked up on the song Working Man. Donna Halper, one of the DJs at the station, gave it a lot of airtime, for which we shall always be grateful.”

As a result of this exposure, Rush got signed by Mercury, though this breakthrough was dampened by John leaving the band.

“John had health problems; his diabetes meant he wasn’t very much into touring. So there was no falling out; he simply felt it was in all our best interests for him to bow out.”

John made his last live appearance with the band on July 25, 1974 in London, Ontario. He died on May 11, 2008, from a heart attack brought on by his diabetic condition.

The man chosen to replace him was Neil Peart, who had just returned from living in England, where he’d hoped (but failed) to make his mark as a drummer. He was a member of Hush, another Canadian band, when he was persuaded to audition for Rush.

“He turned up wearing shorts and driving a battered old car. He also had his drums stored inside trash cans. It was all very amusing, but I was very impressed with his drumming technique, and also liked him as a person straight away. Alex was a little less sure, but I managed to talk him round.”

Neil officially joined the band four days after John’s farewell performance. On August 14, he played his first gig with Rush. It was also the trio’s debut show in America, as they opened for Uriah Heep and Manfred Mann in Pittsburgh.

Neil quickly assumed the role of writing lyrics for second album Fly By Night, released in 1975, and he immediately made his presence felt. There was a definite shift towards fantasy and science fiction, as was showcased on the band’s first epic track, By-Tor And The Snow Dog. This move, which was also mirrored by a more complex musical vision, was even further in evidence later the same year when Caress Of Steel was released, which featured two more examples of their growing connection to sophisticated and imaginative ideas, namely The Necromancer and The Fountains Of Lamneth.

This was supposed to be Rush’s big break- through album but it was a commercial failure. Tickets sales on the subsequent tour were poor enough for it to be blunty labelled the Down The Tubes Tour. “We’d turn up at venues and sometimes they didn’t even expect us. Other times, there was no publicity at all, so we never played in front of big crowds. It was as if everyone – record company, management – had given up on us. Nobody seemed happy with what we were doing musically, and wanted us to return to the simpler blues-rock on the first album. We were bracing ourselves to be dropped by Mercury.”

However, going against the grain and showing they were ready to ruffle feathers in the process, Rush refused to listen to the business heads, instead going even further than they had done on Caress Of Steel. The result was the landmark 2112 album, which had the first side totally dedicated to the 20-minute-plus title track, which has a theme of freedom against tyranny in the year 2062.

The album captured the imagination and was the first from the band to chart in the Top 100 in America. It got to No.62, while in Canada it was a chart topper. The UK also took serious notice of what Rush were doing, even if they didn’t make the mainstream charts.

“It was an important moment for us because we’d shown that we did know what to do, and there was a growing audience out there for Rush music. We weren’t arrogant enough to think we were suddenly the most important band in the world. We just knew we were – ha! But if you look at what we were wearing back then… we had no fashion sense!”

Over the years, 2112 has come to be regarded as a standard-bearer for progressive metal, and Geddy recognises its appeal. “To us this is just another album on the way, albeit one that made a difference. But so many fans and musicians see it as some sort of turning point. All we can do is be grateful for the way it’s continually received.”

However, the album led to controversy surrounding the band. When Neil publicly stated that his lyrics were inspired by the ‘genius of Ayn Rand’, some parts of the press labelled them Nazis. This is because of novelist Rand’s own right-wing tendencies. But it was a fallacious claim, and Geddy is still confused and puzzled by such attacks. “We had to endure a lot of interviews where the journalist was out to prove we were Nazi sympathisers. Nothing could be further from the truth, and anyone who took the time to study Neil’s lyrics could never make such a connection. The good thing was that our fanbase was expanding, and we saw no signs of Nazis turning up at our gigs.”

The release of the double live album All The World’s A Stage in 1976 saw the band finally make their debut on British stages. They did seven shows in June 1977 on the tour to support this first live record. “It was incredible to finally have the chance to play in the country which had so influenced our music. At the time, we were on the way to Rockfield Studios in Wales to record the album A Farewell To Kings, so grabbed the opportunity to play live. We also introduced keyboards on this tour, and it was our last one where the setlist was varied every night. We became boring after that and generally stuck to the same songs for each gig.”

A Farewell To Kings was released in 1977 and became the first Rush album to sell over 500,000 copies in the States. It was also the first to make the UK charts, getting to No.22. This album, and 1978’s Hemispheres, marked a turn towards introducing keyboards and synthesisers.

“I was really interested in all the developments in that area of music. Things were moving very fast and I liked what it might do for our music. Alex wasn’t at all enthusiastic. Well, he was the guitarist, so felt we should still be focused around that. But I really believed that if we were to have anything to offer in the new decade, then what we needed to do was explore different sounds.

“We’d also discovered more progressive bands like Yes, Van der Graaf Generator and King Crimson. They inspired us to think about making music more complex and challenging. The trick was to find some way of combining these influences with our own personalities, so what you got was definitely still about us.”

Just how much Rush had moved forward became clear on 1980’s Permanent Waves, when they introduced elements of reggae and new wave into the music. Going back to shorter songs, they enjoyed their biggest success yet, as songs like The Spirit Of Radio proved they had much to offer at a time when some established bands were struggling to come to terms with the changes in the musical landscape.

They were to ride even higher the following year when Moving Pictures gave them their biggest album to date, selling over four million copies in America alone. It appeared that their reinvention had been a triumph. They were now accepted as doyens of a new hard-rock approach, and they’d done it without disenfranchising their diehard fans.

“It was a gamble, and we could have ended up with no audience, losing the old-school ones without getting any new faces. But thankfully that didn’t happen. I think it’s because those who’d been following us for so long knew we’d always adapted our style, yet we still sounded like Rush.”

In 1981, the release of Exit… Stage Left, yet another double live album, marked the end of another chapter in Rush’s diversifying career. By 1982’s Signals, synthesisers were almost the dominant instrument in the band, and this continued throughout the decade. For 1984’s Grace Under Pressure, long-time producer Terry Brown, who’d worked with them since Fly By Night, was no longer involved. “We never fell out with Terry, but it was decided by all parties it was in everyone’s best interests to move on.”

At the end of the 80s, Rush had left Mercury and signed to Atlantic, and this saw a return to a more guitar-oriented approach on the albums Presto (1989) and Roll The Bones (1991).

“By the time we did Presto, I was getting sick of technology and wanted a return to a more basic approach. We were lucky that our producer, Rupert Hine, agreed, so that’s why it’s more about the vocals than anything else. However, I have to say that the album didn’t turn out the way we hoped. If there’s one album we’d love to do all over again, this is it. The songs are so much stronger than the way they came out. I’m not blaming anyone in particular, it’s just a statement of fact.”

By 1997, when the band had augmented their credibility and success with the albums Counterparts (1993) and Test For Echo (1996), Rush were forced to take an extended break, as Neil suffered a double tragedy. His daughter Samantha died in a car crash in August 1997, and 10 months later, his wife Jacqueline passed away from cancer.

“Neil need time to himself to grieve and reflect on what he wanted to do. Alex and I gave him as much time as he needed. There was never any question of putting him under pressure to return.”

In 2001, Neil said he was ready to go back to work, the result being 2002’s Vapor Trails. The first album since the early 1970s not to have any keyboard or synth parts, it was also unusual because Alex refused to play any conventional guitar solos.

“Again, this was us moving on. But it was a tough album to make, and probably took something like 14 months in all. I’m not sure why we appeared to find this one so hard to make. Possibly because of what Neil had been through, and also because we had stripped so much away from our sound. But we never turned our back on technology because computers were extensively used in the writing and arranging of the songs. It’s just we decided it was time to move on from keyboards.”

After celebrating their 30th anniversary in this current incarnation in 2004, with the release of the covers EP Feedback, Rush returned three years later with Snakes & Arrows. Chart-wise, this was their most successful album in America since Counterparts, reaching No.3. The subsequent tour saw the band returning for their first shows in the UK since the Roll The Bones tour in 1992 – a gap of 15 years.

“It wasn’t our choice to avoid coming over to the UK. Promoters kept telling us that nobody was interested in seeing Rush. We believed them and stayed away. Imagine our surprise when gigs sold out quickly!”

Always regarded as reticent public figures, Rush surprised many when the documentary Beyond The Lighted Stage was released in 2010. This saw the band open up like never before, giving people a significant and unprecedented insight into who they are.

“I think what shocked a lot of people is that we showed we have a keen sense of humour, and we interact with each other by sending ourselves and everyone else up. We don’t take everything so seriously, as most of our fans probably believed we did. We’re not po-faced professors of philosophy, but rock’n’roll musicians. And these days we’re probably more about being comedians who play some music, rather than vice versa.”

The release of Clockwork Angels in 2012 again showed the band were able to bend the rules and move into hitherto uncharted territory, as they brought steampunk influences into their world. Moreover, a novel written by renowned steampunk author Kevin J. Anderson (a friend of Neil) was published to coincide with the album’s release. It was based on the story that runs through the songs, and was more proof that Rush are always looking for ways to push the envelope.

“We still don’t want to stand still and repeat ourselves. Even at our advanced time of life it is all about making the right choices, so we keep everyone – especially ourselves – on our toes.”

It says much for Rush that as they approach the 40th anniversary of this lineup, they are once again seen as being at the cutting edge of music, and are influencing so many in the world of metal. “I don’t think about things like the 40th anniversary. We have no plans to celebrate it. We did enough for the 30th. So, if anything is being planned, it will be without our involvement. We are still looking forward, not back.”

So, just what is the secret behind Rush’s enduring career, and how have the trio managed to stay together for so long without killing each other?

“It’s not been easy! Of course, there are moments when we’ve fallen out. But the trick is that we all know how well we work together. We have also become very good at giving each other space to breathe. Ultimately, we are three individuals who can come together and create something special. But it doesn’t take over our lives. And at the end of the day, we can still have a good laugh about anything. Perhaps that’s the secret to longevity: learn to laugh!”

Originally published in Metal Hammer issue 241, February 2013. Rush retired in August 2015 following their R40 tour, and drummer Neil Peart passed away in 2020. In 2026, Rush returned to the road.