Rush - Birmingham NEC 11th September 2004
Setlist: Intro Film / Medley: Overture 2004-Finding My Way-Anthem-Bastille Day-A Passage To Bangkok-Cygnus X-1-Hemispheres (Prelude) / The Spirit of Radio / Force Ten / Animate / Subdivisions / Earthshine / Red Barchetta / Roll The Bones / Bravado / YYZ / The Trees (with Daytripper ending) / The Seeker / One Little Victory (with dragon intro)
Intermission
‘That Darn Dragon’ Film / Tom Sawyer / Dreamline / Secret Touch / Between the Wheels / Mystic Rhythms / Red Sector A / Drum Solo / Resist (acoustic - Geddy/Alex) / Heart Full of Soul (acoustic -Geddy/Alex/Neil) / 2112: Overture-Temples of Syrinx-Grand Finale / La Villa Strangiato / ByTor & the Snow Dog / Xanadu (w/doubleneck guitar and Lerxst rant) / Working Man // Summertime Blues / Crossroads / Limelight /// End Film
Twenty-four years ago I went to see Rush at the Queens Hall, in Leeds; one of the dates of the Permanent Waves tour and the first time that I had seen the band live.
The Permanent Waves album had been viewed as a considerable departure from the norm for the Canadians, being seen as much more commercial and much less self-indulgent than their previous releases. Some die-hards even saw it as the beginning of the end for the band. For me, it was the start of a strange love/hate relationship with Rush. Having seen the show, I began to lose interest in them, not because they were bad, but because they were a little too good. I found the entire evening just too scripted and, if anything over-rehearsed and formulaic.
As the 1980s progressed, I found it difficult to listen to their earlier works, dealing with philosophical quandaries, sci-fi and mythology, whilst their contemporary material passed me by entirely. Then, by chance, in the early ‘90s, I was browsing through the ‘R’s in a second-hand music emporium, that I was known to frequent, and I came across the entire post-Permanent Waves back catalogue. At only a couple of quid a piece, and each in mint condition, I purchased the lot, on a whim. As I listened to the assorted recordings, I became quite enamoured of the band, once more. Songs like Big Money, Force Ten, Red Sector A, Distant Early Warning, Tom Sawyer, Time Stand Still and Manhattan Project, to name but a handful, really stood out and I found I could hardly stop playing Rush, even venturing as far as to dust off 2112, A Farewell to Kings and Hemispheres. And so, after almost a decade of ecile, I returned to the fold, less blinkered, more forgiving of self-indulgence, and much more appreciative of well-crafted music.
Intermission
‘That Darn Dragon’ Film / Tom Sawyer / Dreamline / Secret Touch / Between the Wheels / Mystic Rhythms / Red Sector A / Drum Solo / Resist (acoustic - Geddy/Alex) / Heart Full of Soul (acoustic -Geddy/Alex/Neil) / 2112: Overture-Temples of Syrinx-Grand Finale / La Villa Strangiato / ByTor & the Snow Dog / Xanadu (w/doubleneck guitar and Lerxst rant) / Working Man // Summertime Blues / Crossroads / Limelight /// End Film
Twenty-four years ago I went to see Rush at the Queens Hall, in Leeds; one of the dates of the Permanent Waves tour and the first time that I had seen the band live.
The Permanent Waves album had been viewed as a considerable departure from the norm for the Canadians, being seen as much more commercial and much less self-indulgent than their previous releases. Some die-hards even saw it as the beginning of the end for the band. For me, it was the start of a strange love/hate relationship with Rush. Having seen the show, I began to lose interest in them, not because they were bad, but because they were a little too good. I found the entire evening just too scripted and, if anything over-rehearsed and formulaic.
As the 1980s progressed, I found it difficult to listen to their earlier works, dealing with philosophical quandaries, sci-fi and mythology, whilst their contemporary material passed me by entirely. Then, by chance, in the early ‘90s, I was browsing through the ‘R’s in a second-hand music emporium, that I was known to frequent, and I came across the entire post-Permanent Waves back catalogue. At only a couple of quid a piece, and each in mint condition, I purchased the lot, on a whim. As I listened to the assorted recordings, I became quite enamoured of the band, once more. Songs like Big Money, Force Ten, Red Sector A, Distant Early Warning, Tom Sawyer, Time Stand Still and Manhattan Project, to name but a handful, really stood out and I found I could hardly stop playing Rush, even venturing as far as to dust off 2112, A Farewell to Kings and Hemispheres. And so, after almost a decade of ecile, I returned to the fold, less blinkered, more forgiving of self-indulgence, and much more appreciative of well-crafted music.
Fast forward to early 2004. A friend phoned me and said that he and some mates were going to see Rush in September; was I interested? I thought it over for about a nanosecond and responded in the affirmative.
As the gig drew closer, I really began to get quite excited about it all, even if it was at the loathsome NEC Arena. However, my feverish anticipation was also tempered with memories of how I’d felt the last time I saw them live, so many years earlier. Would this be a repeat performance?
Before I answer my own question, let me hand out a few pieces of sensible advice to anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves at the NEC Arena.
Do not buy the ‘Chicken Burger and Fries’.
Do not buy the ‘Carlsberg’ lager.
If you ignore 1, or 2, above, at least pay heed to this:
DO NOT CONSUME EITHER item 1, or item 2!
No, really, I am deadly serious.
This so-called Chicken Burger never pecked any grain, clucked, or lived a miserable existence wedged into a cage smaller than its body; I’d put money on it. This plastic, microwaved, culinary disaster should carry a health warning. If it has any poultry in it at all, I’ll guarantee they are crushed claws, beaks and wattles, swept up from the slurry on the floor after all of the necks have been wrung and the real chickens have been pumped full of saline solution and vacuum-packed, ready for display at your local supermarket. That said, I’d still be surprised to find the most minuscule hint of hen in the high-pressure water hose that ejaculated this monstrosity. In fact, it tasted so bad I actually ate some of the cardboard box it came in; there was absolutely no difference in taste between the two. If you must eat here, get the slice of pizza.
As for the beer, well, it doesn’t taste like any Carlsberg I’ve thrown down my neck in the last twenty-five years.Carlsperm, more like. I would like to have said that it was, at least cold, but it wasn’t. Tepid, lukewarm, body temperature, maybe... I think you know where I’m coming from. A quick squint at the geography of the place doesn’t bear thinking about. I have to say, I am concerned by the proximity of the beer vendors’ shacks’ to the toilets. It would not surprise me to find a direct link between the urinals and these thinly disguised waste treatment plants.
As the gig drew closer, I really began to get quite excited about it all, even if it was at the loathsome NEC Arena. However, my feverish anticipation was also tempered with memories of how I’d felt the last time I saw them live, so many years earlier. Would this be a repeat performance?
Before I answer my own question, let me hand out a few pieces of sensible advice to anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves at the NEC Arena.
Do not buy the ‘Chicken Burger and Fries’.
Do not buy the ‘Carlsberg’ lager.
If you ignore 1, or 2, above, at least pay heed to this:
DO NOT CONSUME EITHER item 1, or item 2!
No, really, I am deadly serious.
This so-called Chicken Burger never pecked any grain, clucked, or lived a miserable existence wedged into a cage smaller than its body; I’d put money on it. This plastic, microwaved, culinary disaster should carry a health warning. If it has any poultry in it at all, I’ll guarantee they are crushed claws, beaks and wattles, swept up from the slurry on the floor after all of the necks have been wrung and the real chickens have been pumped full of saline solution and vacuum-packed, ready for display at your local supermarket. That said, I’d still be surprised to find the most minuscule hint of hen in the high-pressure water hose that ejaculated this monstrosity. In fact, it tasted so bad I actually ate some of the cardboard box it came in; there was absolutely no difference in taste between the two. If you must eat here, get the slice of pizza.
As for the beer, well, it doesn’t taste like any Carlsberg I’ve thrown down my neck in the last twenty-five years.Carlsperm, more like. I would like to have said that it was, at least cold, but it wasn’t. Tepid, lukewarm, body temperature, maybe... I think you know where I’m coming from. A quick squint at the geography of the place doesn’t bear thinking about. I have to say, I am concerned by the proximity of the beer vendors’ shacks’ to the toilets. It would not surprise me to find a direct link between the urinals and these thinly disguised waste treatment plants.
One last word about the NEC. Why do they only employ people (aye, blokes and lasses too) called ‘Stewart’? And why are they all such goddamned fascists? What do they have against fans, who’ve paid almost £40 a ticket, taking pictures with digital cameras? What difference does it make to the NEC? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if the bands don’t mind, why should the venues care? Frisking people at the entrance for weapons of mass destruction I can live with, but for cameras? Ohmigod, someone might take a picture and put it on the internet. Yeah, and your point would be, Adolf? Since when did NEC stand for National Entnazification Camp? The arenas are the only places where I have ever had a problem taking pictures and ther will have to be a bloody good reason to get me in one again. Give me The Robin at Bilston, The Limelight at Crewe, or Manchester Academy anyday.
“Good grief,” I hear you mutter, “when is he actually going to review the bloody gig?”
OK. I’m getting to it.
“Good grief,” I hear you mutter, “when is he actually going to review the bloody gig?”
OK. I’m getting to it.
Rush 2004 is a different band to the Rush of 1980. They have grown older and are still the consummate professional musicians they have always been, but these days they play with a sense of humour that is both refreshing and engaging. The setlist was well thought out and covered the entire history of the band. I am not a fan of medleys but I can see why they do them; they played for three hours and, had they not abbreviated some of the material, they would have been on stage for twice as long, and no-one could reasonably expect that. It was nice to hear snatches of songs and, of course, I would like to have heard Bastille Day full length, but I can’t complain about the tracks that they did play. Just take a look at the setlist - it’s impossible to find fault with it. As for the other aspects of the show, the film clips are beautifully made, funny and add depth to the evening’s entertainment. The light show is truly spectacular and the video screen is one of the best I’ve ever seen. No expense has been spared in the production and it is clear to see that this is a band that wants to make every concert a memorable multimedia experience for the fans. What’s more, they succeeded. I would have liked to have had a slightly varied set, but mounting a production on this scale, I can see that everything needs to be timed to perfection, and it is.
Leaving the NEC, I found myself marvelling at what I had seen and heard and amazed that so much had been packed into the three hours. It was a pleasant surprise to hear By Tor and the Snow Dog, whilst songs like Red Barchetta, Tom Sawyer, Force Ten and Roll the Bones still sound fresh and contemporary (well, in rock terms, at least.) The highlight of the evening has to be the Dirk, Pratt and Lerxst film, That Darn Dragon, which is absolutely brilliant and clearly illustrates the fact that, in spite of what you may think, or may have heard about Rush, these guys have a wicked sense of humour and do not take themselves as seriously as you may have been led to believe. The one thing you can be sure of though, is that they are serious about the music, the performance and giving the fans what they want. Two decades later, Rush are the band I hoped they would be the first time I saw them.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
Sept 12th 2004
Leaving the NEC, I found myself marvelling at what I had seen and heard and amazed that so much had been packed into the three hours. It was a pleasant surprise to hear By Tor and the Snow Dog, whilst songs like Red Barchetta, Tom Sawyer, Force Ten and Roll the Bones still sound fresh and contemporary (well, in rock terms, at least.) The highlight of the evening has to be the Dirk, Pratt and Lerxst film, That Darn Dragon, which is absolutely brilliant and clearly illustrates the fact that, in spite of what you may think, or may have heard about Rush, these guys have a wicked sense of humour and do not take themselves as seriously as you may have been led to believe. The one thing you can be sure of though, is that they are serious about the music, the performance and giving the fans what they want. Two decades later, Rush are the band I hoped they would be the first time I saw them.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
Sept 12th 2004
About the photos...
What photos?
This was the Nazi Exhibition Centre.
Fascists 'r' Us.
Photos... Don't make me laugh!
