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  1. My oldest son came home from school last week and showed me something that made me smile. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/6007_zps6pvqaaeq.jpg He's 11 and really loves to listen to Rush. In the car, at home, wherever...he's up for anything I put in the player. He enjoys Feedback a ton. Sadly, I deny him most of the time when he asks to crank up "Time Stand Still". When I played "I think I'm going bald" for the first time, he covered his ears and said "make it stop!" Spirit of Radio get's the air drumming juices flowing. His absolute favorite album though is Signals, with Fly By Night a close second. He loves every groove of those records. Knows all the words. Can sing the melodies. Red Barchetta is his favorite song, but Rivendell is hot on it's heels. He's all about the stories they tell. Hopefully, one day I can take him to a show...though that seems like a pipe dream. So guys, share your stories.
  2. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20HQ%20Cover_zpsm8cfgxpn.jpg Forward from the upcoming book, It's Over at Last by Neil Peart After the last curtain call of the R40 tour, the hubbub and cocktail chatter was turned up to 11. The Forum in Los Angeles is a great place to end the journey. Across the street, Steve Harvey's Fried Chicken joint is always ready to deliver. It's my personal favorite. Inside the special VIP lounge, amidst a captive audience, resident drinkmaster Howard Ungerleider was doling out a new concoction he called "Photobomb". My relationship with Howard started shortly after I joined up with Geddy and Alex. Even way back then, Howard was such a soothing balm to almost any stressful situation. He reminds me of Isaac, the Bartender from The Love Boat - always eager to chat enjoy a refreshing adult beverage. Watching him across the room I was struck by a flurry of emotions. Liam Birt was there, another anchor of the past and also the present. The mere fact that we kept so many people from our humble beginnings was resonating within me. This moment was special, but not sad. A door closes, another opens. A new chapter in our lives was about to begin. Our manager Ray Danniels was surrounded by a conglomerate of yes men taking notes, sending texts, answering phones. My senses told me that after all the negotiating to make this tour happen, they didn't believe me when I told them it was over. Our journey's end made me think of something... http://cdn.playbuzz.com/cdn/94e40aad-a736-4871-9503-96fc4d9a9f20/3adb3030-d675-4fdf-8d4d-5e548aeac0b6.jpeg Pimpin' ain't easy! --Oscar Wilde The Brazen Head is officially Dublin’s oldest watering hole, located down the quays of the River Liffey. Established in 1198, it was originally a coach house but it's unclear how much of the original structure remains. The pub certainly drips with history (metaphorically and literally), hosting historic figures who are known to have spent time in Dublin: authors James Joyce, Brendan Behan and Jonathan Swift, as well as famous revolutionaries like Robert Emmet, Wolfe Tone, Daniel O'Connell and Michael Collins. During a recent excavation, an earthen jar containing previously unknown manuscripts written by Oscar Wilde was discovered. Gems from yesteryear still prove relevant to this transplanted Canadian, and in this melancholy moment the poem hit me. Here's a snippet from his newly revealed writing: The Ocean, my friend. Father time, doesn't bend "Bask in the sun next to the ocean blue, as your soul gets sprayed in a golden, endocrinal hue. When you breath in the air you discover a generous measure of kindness from Poseidon's trident. Hear the gull crying out to its master, see it fly without care or burden on its wings. Oh how I long to sit next to the ocean, and feel the warm spray and its ever comforting breeze." He was on to something. I think. Maybe golden showers feel good or something along those lines. Well, touring can be just that. Here in Santa Monica it's the ocean air that kills you, but at least the beaches are immaculate. Manicured. Litter free. Acres of tan skin. Steroid stallions cruising for tuna. Sadly, the ocean air is jaded by the faint hint of burning petrol. Off in the distance, you can see the flames causing that acrid stain. In the dark corners of my heart I think of all those fat cat oil tycoons polluting the air without restraint. They've no concern for people like us, or the air we breath. If one were to ask them about the smell in the air, they'd probably say: "That's the smell of money!" No doubt. Speaking of money. When I started writing my new book I needed a change of scenery...because I'm thinking about my next paycheck. I'm officially retired, but living in Santa Monica isn't for the financially embarrassed. In what's been standard operating procedure following our most recent tours, I always want to get away and focus on my next book. Really, that's my top priority. In order to create entertaining and insightful prose, atmosphere is always important. My mindset is certainly influenced by my surroundings. One thing on my mind is to share thoughts and feelings about the R40 tour, and why now is the time to hang it up. Much to the chagrin of Rush fans everywhere--it's time. Nobody wants to hear those words, but as I look at my hands and listen to my gut, it's time. The term "fan" is derived from the Latin word fānāticus which means to be “carried away by a god, raving about, possessed”. To be honest, I'm tired of people being fanatical about me. Get over it guys. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/dead-sea_zps0zmxt5m5.jpg Neil relaxing in the Dead Sea 2015 To escape the hubbub of LA, I set out for a favorite destination of Geddy's and mine--The Dead Sea. It isn't as busy, the air is clean, but it's the water that kills you. Looks inviting, but tastes like battery acid. Salt pillars poke up out of the water like buttes from an alien world. Similar to LA, there's plenty of old men hung like field mice and wearing speedos. It's liberating to be surrounded by people who just don't care. People just doing their thing, unaffected by the smirks of young women. Boarding El Al out of Los Angeles I started to reflect on the tour. One of the goals was to leave everything out there and to surpass the previous concert efforts. We have always been of the mindset that we want to improve as the tour progresses. At the end I feel we did just that. We surpassed even our own lofty expectations. I'm already missing certain aspects of touring life, mainly seeing Michael everyday. Our rides certainly gave me plenty to think about between gas stations. The next concert, and the last show. It's crossing the finish line of a marathon that lasts months. I always take the time to give an extra bow from behind my set, but this time I got the courage to step out to the front of the stage. Kinda scary, but the multitude of women assuaged my fears of being stampeded by adoring fans. For some reason I enjoy the anonymity of stopping at Mom and Pop gas stations. We top off the gas tanks, maybe read a book, and take a catnap under a tree after a snack. Normally, Mosbach and I would get snow cones and a corndog. On a show day, I'll always get pickled eggs so I'm ripping farts strong enough to melt Geddy's and Alex's faces by the time Animate rolls around on the setlist. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Neil-diner_zps9ochth6y.jpg One pastime Ged and I share when we vacation is bird watching. Israel boasts some friendly birds, but also the most dangerous. In 1989 while high atop Masada, I was attacked by a flock of Esegenei persecticus, better known as "Yarmulke Hawks". Swooping down from great heights to steal any hat or head covering a weary traveler may wear. The birds cackle with elongated jargon. I know this sounds crazy, but they have a weird Yiddish dialect when they cry out. Golan Heights Yiddish to be precise. They seemingly mock tourists into surrendering whatever snacks they're packing. After my first visit to that part of the world, after they took a holy shit on my prayer cap, I told myself the next time I'd be prepared for those nuisances. I have no sympathy for them after that fiasco. I had my plan to give them antacid tablets wrapped in matzoh balls. It was rewarding to watch them explode in mid air. One reminded me of the time Randy Johnson vaporized a seagull during a game--poof! Nothing but feathers, and not a carcass to be found. That'll teach those bastards. I hope their friends were watching. http://files.shandymedia.com/styles/page/s3/images/photos/thefumble/randy-johnson-fast-ball-kills-bird.png Reality hits you at 60 During the R40 tour I struggled just to get out of bed. After a show muscles ache, and no matter how many Asian masseuses Alex lines up for me, I still hurt. Epsom salt baths are beneficial but the side effects outweigh the benefits. Not to call him out in a public way, but most of his twitter followers know this already. My security guard has a bath salt addiction. So I gotta watch those around him on the bus and in the hotels, primarily because he runs the bath water for me. In a perfect world I could keep on touring, but I'm no spring chicken and have a flourishing life outside of my chosen profession. Most Rush fans probably have no idea that I ride from show to show on a motorcycle, choosing the back roads for my routes. The more remote, the better. Claustrophobia and xenophobia are issues I deal with on the road. Traveling by bike makes those mental hurdles a bit easier. If I traveled by jet I would still have issues. Imagine living your life where you play a gig, fly to the next city, get to your hotel, stay there all day, waiting until the next day to jam. That's what many people don't get. Touring life is really no life at all. Hurry up and wait. So I travel by motorcycle to break up the droning monotony. Don't get me wrong; the payday is significant. Financial embarrassment is something that I gladly left behind years ago, and I'm used to a lifestyle that many would die for. I have a huge garage full of cars. A swimming pool in the shape of a money sign, and three housekeepers I call Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria...in other words life is good, so why try harder? Yukon Blade Grinder Exclusive Part II A message to our old pal, the new guy: Over a year has passed since our last gig. Man, what a show! Sold out tour. Tons of chicks at the concerts. Not a bad review to be found in the papers. We waved good bye in Los Angeles thinking there may be a few more gigs left in us, and then...radio silence. How convenient that Anthem didn't have to ship the drum kit across the continent. We are all to familiar with your attitude at the start and end of a tour: http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Neil%20mad-happy_zpsdf9javig.jpg Now, here we are waiting for the winds of change to blow up your skirt and air out that candy ass! You're fooling no one. Ged and I know every time you use your turn signal that a drum beat is going off in your head. We know too well, Pratt. We don't believe for one minute you're cool with being old and fat. Time for you to get busy and start practicing. So what if your older and feel you've reached the zenith of your abilities? We'll take you at 75% capacity. Still better than anyone else out there on the planet. We played Losing It several times last tour and not one of us shed a tear. So what if we aren't what we used to be? Jeez, we're in our 60's and not one of us takes viagra--that's an indicator the Rocket Sauce tanks are full. Time to drain those tanks, Pratt. Dirk and I have completed a ton of music and feel it's about time to share, however, we don't seem to have your correct address. We feel that 1410 Itsbetterthanever Street is a fake, and your phone numbers changed. You thought you were clever giving Ray 867-5309--without an area code. It seems so orchestrated, Neil. Do you really want us to leave you alone? Not gonna happen buddy! You're our meal ticket. Can't get in touch with you, yet you're popping up in the oddest places. Operation? You've really sold your likeness to Milton Bradley for that stupid game?!? http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/operation_game_zpsnsaputna.jpg Ged and I thought it was a lame move, but when we found out you got paid $5 million, we started looking for games to endorse. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Neil%20check_zpsxik6jp4z.jpg Then the modeling. Truly a WTF moment. You're modeling leather biker apparel. Wake up dude! Neil, re-attach your balls and call us...you know the number. XOXOXO...blah blah blah, Derxt
  3. The movie that made us all smile now has a reunion concert. The kids have grown up and are still kickin ass: All the original players are there, and they've improved!
  4. Happy 4th anniversary to TRF's resident journalist! Don't be a stranger and come hang out with us more often :D
  5. Happy birthday from your partner in YBG crime. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/lyle_zpsdsmcavv3.jpg http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/MjAxMy1iY2YxMTM0Mjk5ZjdkZGU1_517ace0fea4c3.png http://www.quadorb.net/adc/pic/adc-know-your-goat.gif http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0198/6732/products/DSC00514_1024x1024.JPG
  6. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20Starman-fork_zpsg60vqh2m.jpg Part 1 How Earth got Neil Peart Ah, it's that time again. Another useless holiday for puny Americans to celebrate, and the time for YBG critics to pull out the red pen of grammatical correction. Created strictly for economic purposes, Valentines day represents the very worst of capitalism and democracy. Love. "Love is all there is" once permeated the airwaves in your country. There was once a television show dedicated to a sailing vessel specializing to the very concept of love. On my home planet of Mongo, we watch this show once a week on TempleVision, The Love Boat. Ready to make another run into the hearts of Yukon Blade Grinder readers, I'm ready to put a dagger in those hearts...just for fun! It's what I do, because I am Ming...and I'm the Merciless! http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Templevision_ming_zpskirj3rvf.jpg by Yukon Blade Grinder Galactic Guest Journalist Ming the Merciless On your planet I'm a fictional character, however I'm real--very real. Little do the people of your galaxy know that my planet, we call it Mongo (your astronomers call it VT3x), is the supreme gem of the Solar Federation. On a more gratuitous, regally submitted information level, it's not often that I honor requests without some form of payment. However, in all galactic candor, I was quite surprised when the editor of this Blade Grinder left a message for me. Not many people can get a hold of me when I'm visiting Area 51. In fact, it's never happened before. What's even more amazing was the technology used to subvert government security. It's simple, yet ingenious. Crude, basic, and effective. They knew how to phone home the right way. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/device_zpspggd8op7.jpg The request from this seemingly important media giant was an easy one to fulfill. To say that I relish the opportunity to work for such resourceful and ego-maniacal individuals is an understatement. Anytime someone contacts me on one of these things I'm listening. For a little background, let us revisit the past. Most citizens of your planet know very little about its relationship with the planets Mongo and Megadonia, but let's start at the beginning. In 1947, the desert of New Mexico became a hotbed of interest when our ship crashed. The element 115 gravity amplifier (an eludium pue 36 explosive space modulator as it's known on Mars) experienced a hiccup and the rest is history...or heavily redacted history. A weather balloon came back to earth, or so your government claims. Ha! Actually, it was Mongonian ship carrying a seed designed to save your planet. In it's infancy, our galaxy knew your little experiment of a solar system which planet Earth calls home was in trouble, and in need of a savior. So, we all put our heads together and started the process to lend a helping hand. It was just another seed of hope for your planet, and there have been many seeds in your brief history. Isaac, Bartender from The Love Boat & sower of many seeds However, the real prize on that ship was the seed that became Neil Ellwood Peart. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Neil%20Alien_zps22zzbn2p.jpg But enough about your planet, let me tell you about my stomping and annihilation grounds. Mongo. It's located within the same solar system of Megadonia, home of Megadon. We're neighboring planets in fact. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/planets_zpshame9rvh.jpg For the graybeard Rush fans, Megadon inspires flights of fancy and kick-starts memory trips and lucid daydreams. They recall days and golden Acapulco nights staring at an album cover featuring that supposed symbol of tyranny, then flipping it over to see a camel-toe of epic proportions. Earthlings seem to find that attractive. Certainly a symbol of vitality on your planet, otherwise, why would a person want their tiny seed bearing sacs so visible? Seems obvious. I'm sure he's an accomplished avatar of love on your little planet, but let us continue...to many native Megadonians, that album is the bane of their existence. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/cameltoe_zpsqt08nwwx.jpg Famous Camel Toes of Earth My home planet and Megadonia share many of the same features: lush vegetation and forest regions. Our sprawling deserts of ice are home to the best ski slopes in the galaxy. Some lands are inhabited by magical beasts and creatures known to atomize their prey with just a glance. The vast oceans on our planets contain many unknowns, and are dangerous to navigate because of unpredictable weather. We also share a connection that goes beyond topographical and geologic features--political oppression. On my planet, I'm the oppressor. On Megadonia, it's the Elder Race...or it used to be before Rush retired...thank the Gods! http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Meet%20elder%20race_zpsxy5noxsd.jpg Yes, the very same group responsible for overthrowing the Priests of Syrinx back in the day. In our worlds, that day is known as "The Invasion of the Noisy and Stinky People", which occurred in the year 2112 (Our solar calendar. It's 1976 for earthlings). I was brought in to take care of the priests of Syrinx after the fall, and also coordinate the transitional rise of the Elder Race. The Priests of Syrinx always get a bad rap. I've not seen one positive article written about them. The National Midnight Sun literally roasted the cloister because of their fixation with computer games and their stance on musical instruments. Now, the planet is crawling with Yngwie Malmsteen clones. Sometimes people don't think about the unintended consequences of their actions. The Elder Race was a real challenge to placate. Old people tend to that situation themselves, always wanting this or that exactly so. Never satisfied and always complaining. The majority of Priests were banished, however many of them were forced into servitude to the Elder Race, emptying bedpans and transporting them from arts and crafts to their noonday meals. This measure was put into place to ensure a proper dose of humiliation Since the fall of the Temple, life has been relatively lazy and unproductive for the citizens of Megadon. Stock and trade are way down on the inter-galactic markets. Mining the coveted Sphincterstone has come to a halt since control has been assumed by the old folks. On a good note, farming is still going on with a passion, but it mostly revolves around the usual plants: Nabiscus, Ceasarum Roots, Hyperspedium cracklefluffs, Mezloninnian Pixelpods, and that plant imported from planet Earth known only as Maui Waui. The latter, in all its pungent glory is known to cause its consumers to become apathetic and curiously hungry. Still haven't figured that one out. Perhaps I should indulge my own finicky taste buds. When the Temple fell, most citizens on Megadon seem to enjoy it immensely. The complex requirements of my own tongue have grown tired of honeydew all the time. Sorry, I shall stop my digressions there. From the picture leading this article, you can see I'm everywhere Templevision broadcasts. We've just replaced Owen Hardy and his moribund gardening broadcasts. Always speaking of nurturing, talking to one's vegetation to make it feel like it has a soul. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/priests%20pink%20podium_zps8qlrn33b.jpg When Owen brought his guitar in front of the priests it was a sad, sad day for him. Most Rush fans have no clue that poor sap from 2112, sharing his stupid music was actually one Mr. Hardy. Having his dreams go from boom to bust, his guitar reduced to the finest grain of dust. An unintended consequence for barging in on the Priests during ceremonial proceedings. Owen was understandably browbeaten. They didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but he's known for being a bit of a whiner and should have known better. Correct protocol wasn't observed when he approached the council in the first place. You always make an appointment, and you never play "Stairway to Heaven" when you do. Owen was obviously under the influence of the Maui. Any citizen knows you don't bother the priests when they're doing the budget for Megadon's adolescent indoctrination program. Pretty stressful, invective laden environment. While delving into financial matters that require great concentration, the priests don't want to hear "Listen to my music" while knee deep in red tape. A lot of times light saber duels occur (regularly broadcast on TempleVision I might add) during the process because passions run so deep, and soaring ambitions are consumed in a single desire! http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Owen%20hardy_zpsthsjxrqr.jpg Owen Hardy--Guitarist. Owen Hardy--Protoganist of 2112 and the epic Clockwork Angels Owen Hardy--Host of Templevision's "Gardening with the Starman". Owen Hardy--Federation malcontent. He's lived somewhat of a charmed life since the year 2112. Promoted to galactic hero in the eyes of Solar Federation citizens, yet he didn't want the fame associated with his role as change agent. TempleVision became his new friend, as it allowed him to keep arms length from the citizens of Megadonia, while promoting a grand agenda of his own design. Instead of the soothing voices of the temple priests, guitar lessons three times a day were broadcast with various "experts" from Earth providing insight to the craft. Yngwie Malmsteen will soon exterminated by popular demand. In an interview with the National Midnight Sun, Owen stated that he was "happy that people enjoy their freedom, but he's just a person stepping in front of authoritarian rule, sharing what he believed so important, so essential to the spirit of Megadonians and Mongopitulators." To deal with the trappings of fame and fortune, he sought out the person who help free his mind, and soul--the Oracle of Megadon. His advice was timeless in a time of great need. "Brother you need to fight the power!" was his mantra, and it was the calling card for years since 2112. Known only as "Flav", the diminutive sage of supernatural wisdom for the common man. The seed that became Neil Peart, comes from Flav the Oracle. "I was more than happy to be the donor ya know. Just took a lil' sumthin' sumthin' and there ya go homes. To all Rush fans with love. Good to the last drop!" That certainly has some Valentine's flair yes? http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/oracle%20of%20megadon_zpsxngsfaew.jpg Wrong! Fast forward to the present. Now, times are dark in Rush world. The band is on permanent hiatus. Neil is retired, which means one thing on Megadon... http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Acrimedes_zpscpnqoymr.jpg The day Neil announced was he was personally finished entertaining his legions of fans, the former priests of Syrinx abandoned the mines of Kreakletonium and resurfaced. Needing to coalesce a plan for the overthrow of the Elder Race, they convened in the Zreeton Caves, outside the metropolis of Megadon. While conducting their tribal ceremony, echos of ecstasy and a cacophony of triumph could be heard for miles in the Canyons of Geigersmeg. So loud were the shouts, it awakened Acrimedes from hibernation. Never in possession of a contented appetite upon arousal from sleep, hell was unleashed with unimpeded ferocity. Not good for the people of the town next to Megadon. Tectertia's entire population, save the house pets, were consumed rather quickly. Acrimedes, in all his alien rage, desecrated the Temple of Carnak by vomiting the remains of his victims on its dome. As the bumper stickers used to say in Tectertia, "Acrimedes>All of us". The smell was awful. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/MAP_zpsbizcfrqu.jpg Acrimedes is on his way to Megadon to continue the carnage. Who's left to save the day? Is it Owen Hardy and his gentle soul? The Oracle of Megadon? Is it these guys? http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Templevision-skaters_zpsbmeeawik.jpg Rush fans can only hope and pray. Until the second installment of my Yukon Blade Grinder assignment, I leave you with this image to savor: http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Priests%20in%20cave2_zpsjo5bgegf.jpg
  7. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20Holiday_zpsssgatfyw.jpg --From the Senior Editor Even Indiana Jones was afraid of something (snakes). For Bear Grylls, his big fear is skydiving, having nearly died in a parachute accident in Zambia in 1996. Famous for surviving extreme wilderness environments, even if it means drinking ‘water’ from elephant dung or his own urine from a snake’s skin, the British adventurer and TV presenter (Born Survivor, Running Wild, The Island…) has drawn on his experience of tackling his fear for his new TV series Breaking Point, in which he takes people with extreme phobias (heights, rats, water…) into the wild to confront their demons. His newest adventure mates confronted some of their own demons in his latest adventure in wilds of the Yukon Territory. Rush, with all three members in tow: one retired, one that probably needs to retire, and a bass player with a huge need to write new music. Having attended the "last" live gig in Los Angeles, Bear couldn't stand the idea of such a group of vital sexagenarians giving up a bit too soon with so much left in the tank. Geddy and Alex, along with a reluctant Neil, went along and joined Bear for memorable trip to sort out life. Grylls is all too familiar with the rancor surrounding what's left of the band and decided to do the world a favor by getting them together in one place to hash out differences. He may have just saved the day...read on fellow Grinders, in this exclusive two part story adventure awaits you, the rabid fan. http://buzzfil.net/public/images/post/16-05-58-media-31069-110770.jpg By Bear Grylls, On assignment in the Yukon to save our band part I I thought it so important to get the band together in a non-music setting get them to rely on each other for even the most basic of needs. We all know there's an underlying tension in the band, mostly emanating from Geddy and Neil. They don't even look at each other during a concert. "What's the deal?" I thought. A bassist and drummer should be best friends. They lay down the foundation for rock music, they hold it all together no? Recently I've been reading and listening to various interviews in the tabloids with said bassist, and I've came to the conclusion something is terribly wrong with Ray Danniel's golden boys. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/yukon-cornelius_zpspipdxzzg.jpg The band is separated by thousands of miles, yet they still think they can operate as a unit via text and email. That's a load of cod's wallop. After taking President Obama out into the wilds of Alaska, I phoned my agent and told him to get Rush up to the Yukon double quick so I can do my part to keep them together, and continue making the music we love. Nature will take care of this mess. I'm not a trained psychologist, but I do understand the need for communication in any successful relationship. Take me and Les Stroud. We communicate, but it's mostly with our middle digits. No matter if we hate each otherr (which we do), a middle finger is better than a moonshot when you're just trying to talk. I sensed that Geddy, Alex, and Neil needed to go into the tundra and make an adventure, eating off the froze tundra, and rekindle the bond which made them so special in the first place. The nature of the band is one of generosity. When someone farts, everyone says thank you--and they mean it! Their crew will tell you so. No one in this band is afraid to pony up at the bar and take care of their friends either. Legend has it, and this has been confirmed to be true, they conduct free prostate exams for crew members during each tour. So on top of enjoying a drink and friend, they're concerned about the crew's health as well. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/dirty%20hands_zps74mrxtv0.jpg However, such an invasive procedure has its critics among the employees of the R40 crew. For example, Neil always handles the exams for Geddy's techs, who have summarily complained about the size of his hands. Keyboard tech Jack Secret said that Neil put a mirror in front of his face so that he can "see" the hurt. Neil told to Tony this was so the he could be ever mindful about his patients discomfort, Jack thinks otherwise. "I know it sounds crazy, but when Neil tells me he's going to use his shoehorn, I get nervous." http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/peter-dinklage_zpsuu79x6g0.jpg Understood my man. Neil does have rather large hands. However, you'll never hear Gump complain. http://travelquaz.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/yukon-political-map-by-maps-com-from-maps-com-worlds-largest-.jpg Getting the guys to the Yukon was a bit of a struggle but we got them safe and sound to checkpoint By-Tor, right outside of Tombstone located in the middle of the territory. Dropped off via dog sleds, they arrived slightly chilled and ready for a hot beverage. No problem. I had just the solution for starting the trip off right. Trust is key in any relationship. A drummer needs to know his bassist is in the pocket, and a bassist needs a drummer that is sober in order to stay in time. Speaking of which. During this trip the use a marijuana was not tolerated. Right from dismounting of the sleds I made it clear to Alex and Neil that no drug use would be accepted, and use of such product would incur a harsh penalty. Such warning proved fruitless, as Neil and Alex sparked up right after eating caribou on our first night. So, naturally accepting the consequences of rule breaking occurred the first night. Geddy wasn't excluded. He was just as guilty as they were for letting his friends operate outside the boundaries of this expedition. Tea is often a comfort. We Brits celebrate teatime religiously and so I thought of easing the pain of their first infraction with a bit of urine tea, complete with pine needles to add a bit of flavor. The catch with this little penalty was that no one in the band could drink their own pee...had to be the Endocrinol fluid of a band member. http://cdn.vogue.com.au/media/articles/2/4/9/0/24931-1_n.jpg?124519 I took sips of all three. Of course it was met with incredulous snark, but they soon realized I hold the keys to the kingdom as I reminded them we had no radio, and only I knew the located of the GPS rescue unit. Bottoms up! Alex was a real sport. Geddy not so much. In order to get to the bottom of this mess I had to go all out. We all know from watching Beyond the Lighted Stage Neil is no ace at skating. But, with a little training prior to his arrival he appeared to arrive in top form. The Iron Lotus, considered the holy grail for same sex figure skaters, would be what Neil and Geddy would perfect in the wild as a team. Trust, absolute trust, would be needed in order to perform this move. Alex and I would simply watch and encourage, with Alex primed for taking photographs for the band's next album cover. To Be Continued--BG We all know the holidays are something special, and this one is exceptionally important as we grow closer to the end of our band's career. When Neil ran off the stage in Los Angeles I believe we all felt a bit of sadness acknowledging the impending finality of it all. Not so fast. When the conclusion of this story hits the newsstands I believe you'll be happy to know change is in the air, and everyone will say thank you before it's over. So, as a way of leaving you with something very special until that next issue, here's a little documentary filmed by the office staff of the Yukon Blade Grinder to show you just how special it was OUTSIDE the Forum in LA before the show...Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uR6Ja7JgvpI
  8. Rush aren't dead! Neil Peart hasn't retired! http://31.media.tumblr.com/04b3fd03e3199a21644919d2954d9c7a/tumblr_n1g0p1nhvx1sg3xpdo1_400.gif Wednesday 9 December 2015 07.08 EST Last modified on Wednesday 9 December 201510.06 EST On 7 December, when the story went viral across various music websites, the headlines were unequivocal. “Rush drummer Neil Peart has retired,” said Metal Injection, complete with tongue-in-cheek “Bummer Alert:. For fans of the multi-million selling Canadian band – described by Metallica guitarist Kirk Hammett as “the high priests of conceptual metal” – this was indeed a bummer of epic proportions. http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/8f/c2/45/8fc24594e3de7b5d05e90b0f7f16b5cb.jpg Neil Peart is no ordinary drummer. In the sphere of heavy rock, Peart is, by popular consensus, second only to the late John Bonham of Led Zeppelin. And just as Bonham’s death in 1980 was the end of Led Zeppelin, so the virtuoso Peart is irreplaceable to the band he has served as drummer and lyricist since 1974. If the story were true, that was it for Rush. The source was an article that the 63-year-old Peart wrote for Drumhead magazine, in which he referred to comments made by his young daughter. “Lately, Olivia has been introducing me to new friends at school as ‘My dad – he’s a retired drummer.’ True to say, funny to hear.” Peart went on to quote a line he wrote for a 1982 Rush song. “It does not pain me to realise that, like all athletes, there comes a time to … take yourself out of the game. I would rather set it aside then face the predicament described in our song Losing It (‘Sadder still to watch it die, than never to have known it’).” http://legacy.nerdywithchildren.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/rush8.jpg Rush during happier times The response from Rush fans on social media was an outpouring of despair, mixed with a degree of uber-fan one-upmanship: “I saw them back in ’78 at Newcastle City Hall”. “I’ve seen 102 Rush gigs.” The kind of stuff that geeks revel in – and fans of Rush are notoriously geeky. In fact they're so geeky, the missionary position is considered the standard operating procedure for reproduction. But was Peart really saying what they thought he was saying? In the absence of an official clarification from Peart, it was Rush bassist/vocalist Geddy Lee who set the record straight, when he spoke to Prog magazine on 8 December. According to Lee, what Peart said was merely a confirmation of what he has said repeatedly in recent years – that he is no longer willing to tour for months on end, as Rush have done throughout their 40-year career. Simply, that Peart is “retired” from touring, but not from the band. “I think Neil is just explaining his reasons for not wanting to tour with the toll that it’s taking on his body,” Lee said, alluding to the tendonitis the drummer now suffers from. http://assets.rollingstone.com/assets/2015/article/neil-peart-rush-tour-its-true-dilemma-20150106/179735/large_rect/1420565572/1401x788-175702944.jpg Peart, known for his athletic drumming style, is also known for being able to defecate while playing. There is, however, another factor in all of this – Peart’s dedication to his family. As Peart said in 2012: “Honestly, people don’t realise the sacrifice you make as a touring musician. Being away when children are growing up and when your partner needs you around, it’s wrenching.” http://www.ameripublications.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Neil-Peart-Rush-drumming-lege.jpg Can Peart see that he's leaving his friends behind? It's not too late to turn back Neil! --God The truth of the matter is that Peart did retire from Rush in the late 90s, following the death of his daughter Selena in a car crash, and the loss of his first wife Jacqueline to cancer. It was only after he remarried in 2000 that he was persuaded – by his new wife, photographer Carrie Nuttall – to return to the band. Since then, Rush have enjoyed a later-career renaissance. For a band that has sold more than 40m albums, they have remained a cult phenomenon – “under the radar”, as guitarist Alex Lifeson puts it. But the band’s 2012 album Clockwork Angels was a huge hit: No 1 in Canada, No 2 in the US. And in 2013, Rush were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, joined on stage at the ceremony by the Foo Fighters, who performed a classic Rush song, The Overture, from the 1976 album 2112, while wearing wigs and the kind of flowing white satin robes that Rush wore back in the 70s. http://cygnus-x1.net/links/rush/images/books/classic-rock-07.2012/classic-rock-07.2012-2.jpg Foo Fighters leader Dave Grohl – whose work with Nirvana sealed his reputation as the finest rock drummer of his generation – said he cried after meeting Neil Peart for the first time. Another famous drummer, Stewart Copeland, formerly of the Police, described Peart as “the most air-drummed-to drummer of all time”. Copeland, also added that he has an intense jealousy of Peart's ability to stay in time without a click track. Geddy Lee tells the Guardian what it is that makes Peart so good: “Neil combines a few things that you don’t usually find in one drummer. He combines powerful rock histrionics with an incredible compositional sense more suited to a classical musician. He has the chops and ability to switch into a jazz-like improvisational mode at any time. The other thing is the pure physicality of what he does. When you see him play live for three hours, there are very few people on Earth than can play at that level for that length of time. Like he says, ‘My job is like running marathons while solving equations.’” http://assets.rollingstone.com/assets/2015/media/199709/_original/1434408275/1035x685-R1238_FEA_Rush_B.jpg "It's this guy who's holding everyone hostage" --G.LEE Lee feels that Peart’s comments about retirement have been misconstrued and sensationalised. “That’s how it goes in the media,” he says. “Talking about something when there’s nothing to talk about.” He is adamant that Peart, and Rush, will carry on. But for how long, he cannot say. The wear and tear of age is also telling on Lifeson, who has arthritis. What Lee said in May 2015, in an interview with Classic Rock magazine, still holds true. “Can we go on forever? Clearly not. And if it is the end, it’s going to happen in bits and pieces. If we can’t go out and do a massive tour in the future because everyone can’t agree on that, there’s nothing to say we can’t do another record or one-off shows here and there.” Neil Peart has not retired. Not yet. But Geddy Lee knows it won’t be long. “All we can do,” he says now, “is enjoy what time we have left.”
  9. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20Farewell%201_zpskswijqt2.jpg By Tombstone Mountain Afterimage One http://cdn.discogs.com/jP3EIUO1gYE3gDyuHJPDAs_gLq8=/fit-in/300x300/filters:strip_icc():format(jpeg):mode_rgb()/discogs-images/R-1094321-1252991715.jpeg.jpg My first concert was '87. Hold Your Fire tour at the Spectrum in Philadephia. At the time I was living in Ocean Township, New Jersey. A blip on Route 9 between Forked River and Barnegat. It was a big deal my parents let me drive there and back at the age of 17. In my Dad's house (yes, he reminded me that it was his house), I had two parents who taught me the value of hard work, and my life centered around family. A family with a military background. I was disciplined to be aware of my surroundings. They knew where I was at all times, and paid close attention to me when I came home at night. Meaning, they would sniff me out if I were doing anything "wrong". Oh yeah, there was ZERO angst tolerated by Mutti (stepmom from Germany) and Dad. However, they nurtured my curiosity for music, encouraging me to learn how to play an instrument (the Bass Viol), and bought my first electric bass. Like so many other individuals who've built their own shrines during the teenage years, my bedroom had it's own little corner dedicated to favorite bands. Posters aplenty: Van Halen. Duran Duran. Men at Work. Mozart. Rush was ONE of the them. Synth era Rush to be precise. I remember sharing what it would mean to me if I could go see Rush. Didn't have to beg. I just got my license, drove an almost pristine Datsun 260 z (black, with those dark headlight covers), and was growing in different directions at all times. What a feeling to have earned their trust to let me go on that long drive to the City of Brotherly Love. Tommy Shaw opened, my girlfriend fell asleep by The Mission. I didn't care. It was really all about me seeing the band I loved, and it was my first rock concert. There was no connection to the halcyon days of the 70's, so this era was formative in my Rush experience. Afterimage Two http://ak.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/1983811/preview/stock-footage-flying-over-the-clouds-in-the-night-with-the-moon-seamless-d-animation-hd.jpg It was o-dark thirty. When I departed Goatnut International Airport all I had was a suitcase full of clothes, a laptop, and a match, in case I gassed out the lavatory. My plane lifted off and soared above the clouds for a spectacular view. A full moon over an ocean of white and blue. For a moment, I felt awe and wonder. Nothing but that bright orb filling up the sky, casting its reflected light over the billows of moist air. It wasn't the best thing I experienced that weekend though. I was going to see Rush, the finale of the R40 tour, and possibly for their career. After seeing them twice already, in Greenesboro and Seattle, I already knew the vibe surrounding these events. The Forum in Los Angeles would be different because of the perceived finality of it all. As the sun rose higher and higher, and my flight was making it's way over LA, my head was full of conflicting emotions. I pulled out the laptop and started typing. Here are the exact words I entered: Departure. Arrival. Anticipation. Adrenaline. Traffic. Smog. Smaug? Smuag? Touch. Hugs. Plastic surgery. Implants. Falling Down. Howie Long. Egg white omelette. Old friends. New friends. The great Charles Barkley, known for ferocious elbows during his time in the NBA, and for conjuring Satchel Paige-like wisdom, aptly described what it means to get old and retire: "Father time is undefeated". I stopped right there. Now my thoughts turned to hitting LA, and meeting friends. Afterimage Three http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/3_zpsjzcxi1kp.jpg You join The Rush Forum for the band, you stay for the people. --LIX Two friends from TRF, Gina (x1yyz) Michael (Greyfriar) were coming to LA. Michael hails from a small village in Germany. When I joined the Forum, he was gracious to extend conversation my way. We share a connection. My stepmom is from Koln, and I spent my teen years eating really great German food. Mutti (stepmom) taught me valuable life lessons about so many things. Keeping in touch with friends was one. Michael and I have corresponded via PM for years, speaking with great honesty about so many topics. Our private conversations mean a lot to me. On this trip I got to be with him, look into his eyes and know him. He got to meet Bubbles from the Trailer Park Boys...here's his picture. Now he's famous. Can't put a price on that. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/bub_zpsgwllokfy.jpg Gina has meant so much in my quest to make the little rag of a parody more enjoyable to read. I told her upon completion of the first cover she "elevated" the form, beyond the past editions. Per usual, she was humble and low key about her contribution, but for me it means the world. Someone "gets" it, and wants to contribute. She understands where I'm coming from on a creative level and can almost see where it's going. I so appreciate her efforts to help someone she doesn't know, who lives far away in the hills of Tennessee. Indeed, we are connected by such slender (and weak YBG) threads. Concert Day 4:45 pm. From the Sheraton, Michael, Gina, and myself, departed for the Forum stopping by the Renaissance Hotel to pick up Tom Healey (periscope ace). The four of us crammed in the cab. Not a long drive to the arena. Let the whirlwind begin. We got out and made it to the "Will Call" concierge to watch the freak parade, mingling with people from all over the world. Lot's of folks to mention, but my personal favorite was a charming couple (George and Pamela) from Aberdeen, Scotland. Kilts do something for me, as well as the charm of those wonderful accents. Celebrities began emerging, so did my inner (and outer) Yukon Blade Grinder. Showtime was arriving quickly as we made our way to the libation stations and meet up with TRF members. Michael and I walked as brothers in arms to reassure ourselves the moment was actually happening. It was beautiful. We met up with Robert (robertrobyn), Rick (rushman14), Phil (Empty Mindless Spectre) and friends. It seemed we've known each other for years...YEARS!!! A bond already existed there that was, dare I say, like a family. We eased into conversations with that excellent social lubricant known as beer. Selfies out the ying-yang. Laughter. It was all good. That was outside. Inside I met with the Animate (Liz), who was surprised I didn't look like Yosemite Sam (exact words). Oooooookay. Then, Stevie. I first met her in Greenesboro, NC. Not an active poster on TRF, but claims to have made it to all 30 shows. Wow, that is some dedication. Probably the only chick on the planet to own a 2112 shirt with a naked woman instead of a man, standing against the oppressive red star. She gave me a crystal that has "powers", which supposedly helps me radiate "positive" energy. Far out Stevie! Thanks. A memory that shines from these encounters was meeting Rick's childhood friend who got him into Rush when he was 14 years old. They shared recollections of the first concert they attended together, and other humorous stories. As I listened to them and watched the regard they held for each other, I admired the connection. Such obvious affection and respect represented a bromance on epic levels. Cool people are people I wanna know, and you can never have too much of that in your life. It's a common theme at a Rush concert, because we get that from the band. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/us_zpshxvnhx5q.jpg Afterimage Four: The Show They're no "stars" in this building other than Rush. --Jack Black When I see Rush I'm on another planet and living in the moment: Air bass--check. Air drums--check. Air guitar--check. Singing--Badly, but check. I'm reliving those teenage years jamming in my bedroom, door closed. It all comes back to me. Getting lost in the music is the reason I've showed up all these years. http://www.billboard.com/files/styles/promo_650/public/media/the-forum-la-paul-hebert-bb42-billboard-650.jpg First off, The Forum is THE velvet box of memories on the west coast. Whether from the concerts--or from sporting events--a ton of history has gone down in that building. A bit of Yukon Blade Grinder history went down as well. All the way from his trailer park, Bubbles was in town. I spotted the man and got a few minutes with him. We sang a bit of "Closer to the Heart" (he said I was in f***ed up key), and I exposed him to a bit of Goatnut whimsy. More on that later. It was nice to be on the inside of such a historic place. Vibe was warm. Looking around I saw thousands of people just like me. Excited to be there, pensive that it may be the end. Good cheer was the dominant feeling. It was still a packed Rush concert, and we knew an evening of incredible music was coming down the pike. http://i.ytimg.com/vi/iRglJmoMU7Q/maxresdefault.jpg Of course when the band took the stage the energy went up ten fold, and there was no letting up. When the crowd responds in such a way it elevates the entire event into something special. Both band and crowd made it magic. It stayed that way through the entire 1st set. On The Rush Forum, the predominant era of choice is basically the Terry Brown catalog. No doubt. I enjoy it like everyone else, but it was before my time. I had to go back in time to appreciate it after I cut my teeth on the synth era. 1st set was my personal moment of zen. One would think the last set would have more energy than the 1st, for some reason that was not the case though. Weird. The 2nd set, which takes us to Moving Picture and earlier, I'm focusing on the playing ability of these guys. Rush aims for perfection at all times when delivering the goods. However, live I don't expect it. I want the little bumps to see how they deal with them, being a player myself. I'm funny that way. When I attended the May 28th North Carolina gig, Alex got lost during The Camera Eye. I was fascinating how he held his place and picked up when he became re-orientated. To me, that's the best part. The professionalism is astounding. Complex music with lots of buttons to push, and pedals to stomp while playing...and in Geddy's case, singing added for good measure. Lot's of shit can go wrong. Yet, it seems they all carry the same load to hold it together. It's another facet of what makes this band special. Alex was in front of me all night. Now, in my time I've seen some amazing players. Played along side some. Alex is a composer on the guitar. He does what's best for the song, creating almost any texture or mood to fit the piece. Never overplaying. Some say his ability has diminished dramatically. I disagree. His fingers may be more sausage-like than ever, but dude was on it ALL night in LA. To see him performing the volume swells of Xanadu, the harmonic opening of Red Barchetta, and the unique vibe of Animate, just floored me as I watched him close his eyes and sail away to Lerxt World. It's my belief the main reason they stopped performing Jacob's Ladder is because it can be a slog of a song to play. Meaning it can get boring. If you're not a musician I'm afraid you wouldn't understand but let me explain. The vibe created by playing simple textures can drone on...and on. It can lull the performers to sleep almost. Good for audience in terms of song choice, hard for the folks keeping it together. By pulling the masterpiece out of the mothballs they committed to giving us a part of the Holy Grail this tour. As Alex built momentum from the staccato pulse of the opening, it was hard not to scream as he nailed the solo. Not his most challenging, but certainly one of the most cinematic of his career. Then, turning your attention to Neil, and watching him go through his arrangement, I wondered what it was like for these guys to write this stuff. Man to be a fly on the wall watching that go down. Losing It, also a piece of the Holy Grail. Not performed live until this tour. People get old, and abilities deterioate--our common fate. I can see why they waited for the perfect moment to do it. It's too much of a bummer otherwise to be reminded of it. Why would Geddy want to sing that every night? Jonathan Dinklage provided the violin work. Different than Mink's original only in that he adds some different colors to the textures he plays. Translation: he made that song his bitch. My God, he took what Mink did, and amplified it by a factor of 3. Of note, the lighting during this song was really impressive. Liquid-y would be an apt description. The light was liquid-y. Yeah, that's it. Cygnus was brought to life in an unexpected way this tour. For veteran's of the Halcyon days, this probably made 'em pass out. It was remarkable how the tour paid homage to A Farewell to Kings. You get Xanadu, Closer to the Heart and Cygnus x1. Had to step over the bodies after these songs to get to the bathroom. I actually prefer this song performed sans vocals. So many twists and turns to watch. Geddy was allowed to noodle away without worrying how close he was to his microphone. After the song was over, Neil was giving the crowd the towel wave. He's getting demonstrative these days. Let me point some notable moments: Alex watching Neil solo during Cygnus--He sat on the edge of the stage and just watched Neil, all smiles. The double bass onslaught at the end was probably as good as he's ever performed that part of the solo--thunderous. Alex usually doesn't hang out that long, but from the look on his face he was drinking up what may be the last time NEP plays that solo. Geddy hauling the mail--Those who criticize the man's voice based on last tour have to give him his due. It's only polite. He showed up big time. I think someone he trusts and respects must've sat him down and said "look at this" and handed him the Clockwork Angels Live DVD. Geddy made it a priority to pay attention to detail in this department. All three shows I saw live, and the periscope feeds, indicate that he made a strong effort on his vocal role. Huge improvement. Losing It--I got to see that song live. Describing it...well they played it to perfection. After the song Neil did his little fiddle imitation for Jonathan, and that was it. I'm one of the few who got to witness that song. Geddy sitting on Neil's lap--A complete surprise during Animate. We never saw that one coming. Is this the end? Seeing Neil do anything other than the usual is a big deal. He actually came to the front of the stage, put his arms around Alex and Geddy, and waved. He's never done that as far as I know. If this was it, I can say I was there to watch it end. Am I sad? Yes. Yes, because I want these guys to drain that tank until the rocket sauce is just fumes. I'm sad because they can still play at a high level, and I wanna see what's possible. What if they make another record and it blows Clockwork Angels out of the water? It's possible. In this life, I wanna see what's possible... http://img.rush.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/rush_bow_bw-1280x780.jpg
  10. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20TM_zpsbyx6q6ct.jpg By Yerbel Flint Yukon Blade Grinder Janitor Senior Editor The staff looks around at an office in shambles, an office that hobbles along without direction, without purpose. How long can we go on this way? How long until something breaks? Tensions are running high as we all wonder how we could have been abandoned this way. My name is Yerbel Flint and until recently I was the janitor here at the Yukon Blade Grinder editorial headquarters. The YBG was a wonderful place to work, surrounded by the best writers in the music press. Our holiday parties were fantastic, and you wouldn't believe some of the celebrities who climbed atop the copy machine to Xerox their bottoms, but I digress; this article is not about the parties, it is about the loss of our beloved editor-in-chief, Tombstone Mountain. Without him the YBG has lost its magic. Tombstone Mountain, often simply referred to as "TM" around the office, was last seen by the YBG staff in Los Angeles on August 2, the day after Rush's legendary final concert at The Forum. He was in high spirits and spoke of big plans for his publication. On August 9 he published a review of that show. The cover of that issue showed the three band members walking off into the distance, but who knew that was foreshadowing TM's own southward journey on to lose himself in Xanadu? This isn't to say TM disappeared without a trace. He continues to occasionally post to the online music message board The Rush Forum. Fergle has reason to believe TM had stopped by the office on various weekends as piles of old newspapers had been arranged to form a bed. And TM's good friend Greyfriar has heard strange reports of a dark figure playing disc golf in the Black Forest on foggy nights. No one knows where TM has gone or when he will be back. Reporters at the YBG office still await his return. Editors of rival publications have publicly cast doubts as to whether the Yukon Blade Grinder can stay afloat without a captain, saying our ship isn't coming and we just can't pretend. If you see our captain, please send him home.
  11. The density of lame threads at the moment has given the itch to the Yukon Blade Grinder staff and editors. After conferring via Skype, email, phone, and smoke signals, we've decided to contribute yet another lame thread. Time to get our Grind on. Here's the deal. In many ways, happiness is a choice we make. Life is life. We live life on life's terms—unless we've got the cache of a Frank Sinatra—doing things our way, till the very freaking end. Most of us don't, but even those who do, pay a fabulous price to attain it. Unless of course you're Dr. Sheldon Cooper, who still lives at home, enjoys catered meals in his bedroom, and gets high all day while surfing the net. But, regardless of our circumstances, or background, we share something in common—we all LOVE Rush, or else we wouldn't hang out here. They give us so many things to enjoy, ponder, complain about, and spend our hard earned money on. So let's pose this question to ourselves: How could Rush, as a unit, or as individuals, make us happy TODAY? Let 'er rip tater chips!
  12. The Yukon Blade Grinder Europe Sabaton's singer Joakim Brodén is walking all the way to his next show, Trondheim Metal Festival. You heard that right: walking. Apparently he lost a bet. It's more than 500 km. We are not sure if Broden knows, but here at the YBGE we most certainly know and this feat brings to mind German director and YBG's favourite Werner Herzog's epic walk in the 70s from Munich to Paris, to reach his friend Lotte H. Eisner sick in bed. It is certainly worth mentioning that Herzog made the walk in freakin' December, so Broden is a p*ssy in comparision anyway. Here's a video diary of the walk:
  13. I noticed this the other day and it got me wondering...did the boys watch this before making the acceptance video for the 1st Prog Magazine award for Album of the Year? You decide. Seems like it: Here's the commercial from Major League And here's our favorite band, with their acceptance video
  14. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20cover%20limo_zpss22jvmtj.jpg An open letter to Neil my drinking partner and drum guru: So here it is. The end. Time for one door to close, and another to open. The Yukon Blade Grinder dialed me up, and told me about the scenario. I just couldn't leave them hanging, so here goes. Saturday you will play the Forum in that dangerous shithole known as LA. The last Rush concert will bring many to tears...out of love...and from a love lost. It seems in music, as in life, when the last note is played or the final breath is drawn, we sit in shock over the finality of it all. No doubt to be the case here. Forty years of sweat. Forty years of joy. Forty years of tendinitis development. It all hurts. So soak it in. I remember laying my sticks down on the floor tom after my final concert with Genesis. Elation wouldn't be a good word to describe my feelings. Relief was more like it. I did my bit for the band, and was ready to move on to other pastures to see what lay beyond my purview. Something else was out there and I needed to find out for myself what exists "beyond the cymbals". Boy was I an idiot. I missed my friends. Your gig is a gravy train on biscuit wheels old chap. Don't let it go. Persevere until you drop. You've got a full tank, as witnessed from this tour. The tabloids raved about the band. Not one ill review to be found, except one on some website called "The Rush Forum"...written by a complete tosser. Don't quit and let your belly hang over your belt. I know the story of "being" there for your family. I respect that so much Neil. I respect it so much that I think you should put their asses on a tricked out bus, and take them with you to see America again and again. But that's just me, your friend Phil. Do us a favor. Stay in the game. Play when you want to play. Record when you want to record. Never give up performing with Alex and Geddy. What you have is too special. Your little one will certainly miss her Uncle Dirk and Uncle Lerxt. Wouldn't want to deprive her of that now would you? Take it from me, a man who left his mates to put on his Mr. Jangles dancing shoes. Sure I made millions. I sold more records than when I was with Genesis. Made the papers and everything. To this day I still ask myself "What if"? Don't be that guy. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/phil%201_zpsdeavcm8h.jpg Your friend and fellow drummer, Phil P.S.--Where's that double bass pedal I loaned you back in 2005? I need it. P.S.S.--You must visit Goatnut,TN...there's this really cool cave.
  15. Ok, here it is...the scrapebook for all the concert reviews from local papers where Rush performs during the R40 tour. Here's the Tulsa World's entry. This should be a lot of fun. We all know the history of critics and our favorite band. Seems the tune of the elite media continues to change it's tune. http://www.tulsaworl...b024eef258.html REVIEW: Rush brings 40 years of iconic rock to the BOK Center (MOD EDIT: Please don't paste entire reviews into your posts. Just post a link to the original article.)
  16. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20cover%20Howard_zpsusoxilbe.jpg Howard Ungerleider: This is your Life By Pope Francis Yukon Blade Grinder reporter on assignment http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/pope_zpssyr5i7bn.jpg My heavens! What a treat to be invited to Yukon Blade Grinder land. As THE man of the cloth, I find it quit humbling to have an opportunity to sing the praises of one Howard Ungerleider. So rich is his body of work. So diverse a resume of accomplishments and achievements. One could simply spend days upon days documenting them...but not me. Think about it. It's been written the entire world was created in just 6 days, so I can't give more than this to Howard without feeling guilty. I'm here, as they say in some parts of the world, to get my swerve on and share some thoughts about one Mr. Ungerleider. I traveled all over God's green earth to find the real story. It wasn't easy. As with any assignment with the YBG sometimes you just gotta go with the flow. In the end, it was all my pleasure. How it all started: Humble beginnings http://www.plsn.com/plugins/content/mavikthumbnails/thumbnails/150x136-images-stories-14-10-current-howard-u-0-howard-carboy.jpg Ungerleider was born in New York in 1952 and moved to New Jersey when he was 12, spending his teens in Paramus. He credits his father, a former drill sergeant in the military, with instilling a strong work ethic in him. Success comes from the sweat of our brow, and sometimes from a boot in our rear. That gave him the tools to not be afraid to get his hands dirty. Kudos to Dad--job well done! His grandfather played mandolin with the New York Philharmonic, and Howard taught himself a little piano and guitar, which he played in a couple of local bands. Meanwhile, always cruising for the action and the next step up the corporate version of Jacob's Ladder, he volunteered at his high school theater where he first started running lights. He went to what is now Monmouth (NJ) University studying theater and drama right up to the moment when a prank got out of hand and he was shown the door. “It was stupid,” he laughs about the reason for his dismissal. No worries my son...you're forgiven! We all fall short. For example, the Yukon Blade Grinder didn't even pay the fuel tab for my papal jet to go interview Geddy and Alex. The bill is in the mail. But before his dubious exit, he was on the student council, where he booked concerts and once worked with a New York Agent named Sean LaRoche. So he started showing up at his New York office, thinking if he met him he’d get a record contract for his band. All in God's good time my son. LaRoche’s secretary kept putting him off, saying he was out of the office, at lunch — whatever — to get this kid to leave. After three weeks, Ungerleider figured out her schedule and marched into LaRoche’s office when she was out. LaRoche, who couldn’t believe this kid had gotten into his office, was even more flabbergasted that he was asking for a record contract. That's using the brain the good Lord gave us all Howard. From dreams to a bowl of dust? NOT for Howard!!! “Listen, there’s probably 20,000 bands out there and only one will make it, and it won’t be yours,” LaRoche told Ungerleider. “Now do you want to learn about this industry or do you want your life to be a pipe dream?” Undaunted, Howard was ready for his real "education". LaRoche wrote some names down for him and sent him out the door. Perhaps crestfallen, but not deterred, it was his ticket to his job as an office boy making $75 a week for another agent, Jeff Franklin, then one of American Talent International owners. As always, Howard was able to learn what he needed to step up to the next level. He went from getting coffee to working in the mailroom, with Franklin seemingly screaming at him all the way. He got his big break when he overheard Franklin chewing out a room of agents because they couldn’t get a gig for Fleetwood Mac at a $3,500 package, with an extra $750 for the opening act. On the way home, Ungerleider stopped by Fairleigh Dickinson University and sold the deal to them — for $8,750. The applause of metal heaven reign on you my son! Now an agent himself, Ungerleider worked with Deep Purple and Ronnie James Dio and did very well. “I developed a tough reputation, and they would often send me to collect the money from a gig,” he laughs. So tough in fact, he was the inspiration for the immortal tour manager "Ian" from the movie Spinal Tap. He's the one who made sure the motel accommodations were right. He made sure Alex had mandolin strings, and the band had bread that needed no folding. http://blogs.desmoinesregister.com/dmr/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/its_time_to_kick_ass.jpg Ian from This is Spinal Tap Inspired by Howard Ungerleider But as he traveled with the bands, they would always ask him what he thought of the show. He would be blunt. “Sometimes I’d point out that there was no ‘show’, just a band playing music.” He would make suggestions, particularly about the lighting, and the band would have him talk to the lighting director about his ideas. This blossomed into a moonlighting gig as a lighting consultant. “In 1972, I was working with Blue Öyster Cult, and their booking agency was ATI,” Elliot Krowe says of his early days with Ungerleider. “Howard was always in the offices there, and we were introduced. He was available for work, so I hired him to do advance work for me on the BÖC tour. Subsequently he hooked up with Rush and they’re first foray into the states was on tour opening for BÖC, and his first lighting design was done on my system as an opening act.” http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/squintyt4e/6708338/2718/2718_600.jpg 40 Years of Vision and excellence As the crazy overflowed at the agency, with partners fighting and threatening legal action against each other, Rush needed a tour manager for their first U.S. tour, and the prospect of working for a band looked good. In the summer of 1974, he was sent to Canada by his company to help a new band as they started touring regularly. That band was Rush and Ungerleider has played a crucial role in the success of their tours and production for nearly 40 years. 40 years! That's Moses territory right there, and Howard was certainly traveling the Promise Land in America. For so long he wore the Tour Manager and Lighting Design/Director hat and has been on the road with Rush for every tour except the Roll the Bones tour. From the early days opening for Kiss and Aerosmith, to the breakout 2112 shows, the blockbuster success of the Moving Pictures tour, introduction of lasers on 1984's Grace Under Pressure tour, triumphant return and astounding South American audiences on the 2002 Vapor Trails tours, to the Time Machine, and the current R40 tour, Howard has been instrumental in the look and feel of the band's performances. While the band provides the all important soundtrack, Howard sets the scene and creates the drama with precise and powerful lighting and video cues. He is an indispensable member of the band--thus says you-know-who! One of the great perks of being a Yukon Blade Grinder correspondent, and the voice of God on Earth, is that I get to meet so many wonderful people. Geddy and Alex were next on the docket to meet for this homage to Howard. Flying into Toronto, admiring the skyline and after eating a healthy meal of poutine, I got the chance to visit with the two and get their thoughts on such a long a happy union with Howard--so rare to see such commitment these days. Little did the two men know that I've been a fan since day one, myself seeing them live countless times (Vapor Trails is my favorite album, though Totem is my favorite song). They were surprised to see me in my VT shirt. As we sat down in the offices of Anthem Entertainment, it was so nice to get Canadian hospitality--and friendly smiles. Eschewing the customary decorum, I told them to call me Frank. After all, I'm just a guy myself who enjoys a drink and a laugh: http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Geddy-paper_zpsoknvg81w.jpg Geddy and Alex, so nice for you to take time from your busy schedule on this tour break to speak with me. You're big fans of the YBG I see. I'll bet you didn't know I was a big fan of your music. Alex: Actually now I recognize you from the concert in Germany. You were fifth row in Koln right? I knew I recognized that hat. You were nuts that night Geddy: I remember the "Sermon on Mt. Nerd" that was telecast all over the world when you were denouncing Vapor Trolling. Thanks a lot big guy...I mean Frank. No problem, no problem my sons. Tell me what are some of the things you love most about Howard? Geddy: Two things. 1) He can tell a story. A great storyteller. My goodness he can captivate a room with his storytelling Alex: Truth be damned..er sorry...I mean, I've been at some of these events and many times it's being told in a way that I don't remember. But who cares they're great stories. Geddy: Absolutely the truth. Howard is gifted in that department. Bring you to tears with his humor. Give me just one example of a good story from Howard Geddy: My favorite is when he worked as tour manager for us when we opened for Blue Oyster Cult. We had a problem getting all of the money owed us. So, he said he went into their dressing rooms with his beloved pet ferret. What was his name Al? Alex: Slinky. He kept this thing on a leash and walked it every day for Christ's...er I mean Pete's Sake. Geddy: Yeah. Well anyway. He went into their dressing room with Slinky and put him in Buck Dharma's pants. He said if he didn't get the money he was gonna tell slinky to bite his cod off. We got paid, but I doubt that story is true. Alex: I dunno Ged. We only lasted two shows with them after that, then Kiss came into the equation. No great loss, but I think it played a hand somehow. Nice. Loyalty is a quality God admires. Tell me another...these are great. Alex: There's the "Big Gulp" incident at Rochester. I couldn't believe that one. Geddy: Well, Rochester was the worst horror story. When we played there at the auditorium and the show was about to start. As Howard called the house lights and the place went dark, a huge Big Gulp came over in the air, flipped upside down and doused the complete lighting board and we had to do the whole show that night with just spot lights only because all of Howard's consoles, including the back-up, were flooded with ignorance and a Big Gulp. After that show, he started to do things a bit differently. For ten years he had that ferret on a leash, sniffing out trouble before it happened. Alex: Nothing but spotlights that night. I still think it was Howard's Big Gulp though. Geddy: But, the show was one of our best shows. Howard even came on stage to help sing Limelight. Alex: He's got a really good voice. Surprising. He performed a miracle that night. Literally turned water in to wine. I'm sure you're familiar with that exp<b></b>ression. Right Frank? Oh yes. One of my favorite stories. So, where's the ferret now? Is it dead? Alex: Oh yeah, long gone. I think Slinky's been stuffed and is on Howard's tour bus for good luck. Geddy: Been working like a charm I must say. Wow. Yukon Blade Grinder readers will love that one. Tell me the other thing you love most about Howard? Alex: The other thing is that no one, and I mean no one, can get a room full of people drunker, quicker than Howard Ungerleider. Geddy: Amen to that. Alex: He is a mixology expert. He can mix drinks with the best of them Geddy: An alchemist in every sense of the word. My favorite is "Photo-bomb". That'll kick you in the rump Alex: That's a good one. Though when I reflect on the crew party after the Clockwork Angels tour he made these drinks called "Jesus, Joseph, and Mary"...three levels of awesome sauce right there. It fills my heart with joy to hear such things. Beautiful. In closing, when Howard reads this edition of the Blade Grinder, what would you like him to know about how you feel about him? Your career is coming to a close...what would you like to say? Alex: Thanks so much for being there Howard. All of this happened because you were a part of the team. We learned so much together, and been through so much life. Good times and bad. You really are the 4th member of the band. We love you. Geddy: Howard. Herns my man. You're the best. Come live in Toronto so I don't have to see Alex so much. I need an excuse to get away sometimes. Parting words Touching. Very touching to hear those words. I remember flying back to the Vatican with my head swimming about this story. How could I wrap up a story such as this with a fitting tribute to the best lighting director the planet has ever seen? Well Howard, it's been said that when God was making our world the first thing he did was create light. However, I have a feeling if God was tired that day, or was otherwise occupied and needed someone to step in and make light a reality---he would've called you. Thank you my good man...from all Rush fans! http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/pope%20wave2_zps3zrhklas.jpg "Sermon on Mt. Nerd" 2013
  17. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/YBG%20cover%20bulls_zpsqwmrtbig.jpg Olé, Olé, Olé Yukon Blade Grinders! http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Film/Pix/pictures/2011/11/25/1322223467242/A-still-from-Puss-in-Boot-007.jpg By Puss in Boots "We knew we had a chance to take a break together...so why not Spain? We just had to do this. It was in the cards and it was epic!" --Geddy Lee How it came to be The Running of the Bulls, held in the small basque city of Pamplona, Spain, is one of the world's longest standing traditions. The festival, which may date back to the Middle Ages, has been celebrated annually since 1592. A litterbox of humanity I call it. Today, visitors from around the corner and around the world gather in Spain to witness the event and take part in the week-long fiesta. This year, new visitors from Canada are in attendance, and rocking the Spanish world with their presence. With a surprise concert opening the festival, all Pamplona is buzzing. Currently enjoying critical acclaim and packed houses across the US, they are masters of their domain, playing where and when they want. This moment in time takes them across the ocean. So nice for them to visit us on a short break during a tour, yes? I think yes. Don't agree? Come tempt my blade. The week-long Pamplona festival was originally held in October to honor the Patron Saint, San Fermín. A good tomcat. The origin of the religious celebration may date as far back as to the Middle Ages. Over time, the sanfermines began to add elements to the religious ceremonies such as "trade fairs, music, dance, giants, tournaments, acrobats, puppet shows, bull runs and bullfights." Despite evidence that the basis of the San Fermín celebrations began in the 13th century, old city documents report the Running of the Bulls has been celebrated annually since 1592 — a century after the Spanish reconquest and Columbus discovered America. In 1592, the festival was moved from October 10 to July to avoid the shaky October weather and coincide with the annual fair already held in July. It has has since remained a hallmark of the Spanish Summer. However this year a surprise concert in de Plaza de Toros de Pamplona to open the festival featuring the golden boys of Canada. Read on Blade Grinders...this story is loco! Pamplona 2015--No Bull http://www.videovista.net/reviews/dec03/rushrio2.jpg The Running of the Bulls is a huge tourist attraction and a celebratory week-long occasion for both Spaniards and international travelers. We make major dinero. Nonetheless, the festival emerged for its practical purpose. According to an ancient tablet found while spelunking here in the hills in 2001 by Rush guitarist Alex Lifeson, the bull run started because it served as a way to transport the bulls from Pamplona's corral, to its bullfighting ring, where public spectacles were to be held throughout the fighting season. Says Alex in his recent book, Taking Spain by the Balls: "Fascinating how the people actually want to agitate the bulls to tork them off...kinda nuts. People getting gored, maimed, rammed. As a band we decided to try it, a bucket list kinda thing. We've already been to Bangkok, Nepal, and Florida. So we had to do this just once. It's all good fun right?". Truer words have never been spoken Lerxt. http://www.partyearth.com/assets/pamplona/rotb_content_wrapper_map_bg-f1db45676aac93faa5867f853035ce83.jpg Until someone gets hurt, that is. The Running of the Bulls has a well earned reputation as a dangerous and violent festival-- and this popular conception is not unfounded. It's cold reality. The prospect of danger lurks in many festivals and sporting events: the inner-city olympics of Detroit. Bat day at Yankee Stadium, and the Annual Numismatic Coin Flipping Carnival of Leipzig. The latter, notable for the tragic "eye poking incident" of 1935, where 22 contestants engaged in conduct detrimental to the carnival, forcing police to control crowds using harsh language and threats of violence. Well, they shrivel in the shadow of this giant. At least 13 spectators and participants have died from injuries related to the bull run in the last century alone. The last death was that of a 22-year-old American tourist in 1995. It may come as a surprise, however, that the most dangerous aspect of the festival is not the bull run itself, but the week-long party flowing with traditional sangria that takes place around the feature event. According to the locals, "far more festival-goers have been impaired from over consumption of alcohol" than from bull-related injuries. A likely story. This year, a prime festival sponsor is the band's wine label Bacchus Chateau, with it's wildy popular jailhouse fare, La Villa SanGriato. However, on the label of the new phenomenon is the warning "one cup and you're effed up!" Test for echo--pace yourselves amigos--it's a long week! http://media.nola.com/entertainment_impact_festivals/photo/pamplona-running-of-the-bullsjpg-e890e6542669d6f9.jpg His cats are now out of the bag Ernest Hemingway popularized Pamploma's Running of the Bulls festival when he published his famous novel The Sun Also Rises in 1926. Hemingway's novel takes place against the backdrop of the wild Spanish fiesta and bull run, and the author relies on the ceremony to symbolize larger themes in his work such as the lost generation and the quest to reclaim masculinity in the post-war world. Masculinity? Bah says this Yukon Blade Grinder reporter. This event used to be akin to attending a Rush concert in terms of gender participation, but no more. As evidenced by more and more concerts crawling with chicks, women love this kind of entertainment as well! This classic American novel helped transform the Running of the Bulls into an international spectacle. Band frontman Geddy Lee speaks about the band's experience with the novel, "When we first started touring Neil would bring all these books on the RV. I'm OK You're OK. The Stand. The Joy of Cooking. The Sun Also Rises was one of them. Neil would sometimes read it outloud to help us stay awake as we drove. It actually put us to sleep, but don't mention that to him--Canadians don't complain--we pout!" No worries Geddy--your secret is safe with the Yukon Blade Grinder. As Hemingway's protagonist, Jake, declares in The Sun Also Rises, “Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bull-fighters.” Geddy admits the band wants to experience that adrenaline high as well. Ok Amigos. Arriba, Arriba! Andale, Andale! http://ewpopwatch.files.wordpress.com/2006/02/15517__nacho_l.jpg You must be swift...like a gazelle--Nacho Libre The bull runners, known as mozos, wear traditional white uniforms with red trimming. According to the ancient tablet, there are two contested origins of the uniform: on the one hand, the red and white colors might honor the martyred Saint Fermín while others claim the uniforms represent the butchers who began the running of the bulls tradition. It is a common mistake to believe that Spanish matadors and mozos dawn the color red in order to anger the bulls. In fact, according to band drummer Neil Peart, the color is not what drives bulls to attack because "bulls don't seem to have any color preference at all. Bulls instinctively follow movement, so they will charge whichever object is moving quickest. Therefore, the bulls chase the runners because of their speed, not the color of their uniforms. At least, that's the way it was on the farm at St. Catherines. Spanish bulls may be different though." As usual, Pratt has all the answers. Sharp is the word and quick is the action. http://41.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l3pw7jVaUq1qc6xhto1_500.jpg Each individual race takes just three minutes on average and terminates just minutes after it begins at 8 a.m., according to the locals. After the race comes the food, and we know this band can eat. Their new nutritionist, Ken Jeong, is owner and operator of the Rocky Mountain Oyster Palace located in the war torn Jane and Finch district of Toronto. He's along for the ride this year to sample the local fare and run his ass off. As always, Jeong is looking to improve his product, and sometimes traveling the globe is a must to find that special recipe to elevate your product. When asked about the quality of spanish calf fries, he wasn't leaving anything on the table. "Ahhh the smell of calf fries in the morning. Smells like victory! I got secret sauce, and you don't bitches! You gotta taste my nuts". Thank you gilipollas--thank you. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/siesta_zpsocg4efm8.jpg Mission accomplished For the rest of the day, attendees visit the traditional livestock fair (rumored to smell like bullshit) and take part in the crazy celebrations, which last all through the night. Plenty of boobs. Plenty of calf fries. My kinda party. The festival ends at midnight on July 14 when all who remain in Pamplona gather before the City Hall and sing the song "Pobre de Mi" (Poor me, the Fiesta de San Fermin has ended). However this year, the festival will end with the Canadian band's magnum opus Anagram played over the loudspeakers in the city square...because there is no safe seat at this feast. So with that I bid you farewell, in the finest of Spanish traditions: Ole Blade Grinders Arriba, Arriba! Andale, Andale! http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/bull%20run%20food_zpstult0jur.jpg
  18. As Rush heads towards the end of their "last tour of this magnitude" fans have begun to wonder what the band will do next? While they definitely want to spend some well-deserved time with their families, will they be able to stay out of the studio? Instead, maybe they will replace touring concert halls with touring the links. Disc golf links, that is. Disc golf is an outdoor game played with Frisbee-type flying discs. Similar to golf, players attempt to throw the disc into a basket. The sport is popular across North America and around the world. In fact, it was during their latest R40 tour that Rush was introduced to the sport. "It was right before the Columbus show, actually," guitarist Alex Lifeson explains. "I hopped in a cab and asked him to take me to the nearest golf course, and he brought me instead to a disc golf course. I didn't realize the mistake until after he drove off, so I decided to give this other golf a shot." It turned out that Lifeson loved the game and the rest, as they say, is history. http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/DISC-GOLF-2_zpsdyhl0zky.jpg Lifeson told his bandmates, bassist Geddy Lee and drummer Neil Peart, about his serendipitous discovery and a few days later all three found themselves on a course. "I originally got into watching baseball while on tour," recalls Lee, "but with disc golf I can be out there playing, and not just watching. Plus, it's more fun than the gym." Lee's baseball arm is in great shape and allows him to throw discs almost the entire length of the fairway. Although Peart has golfed a couple times with his bandmates he still prefers to ride his motorcycle between shows. In the past he has caddied for the other Rush (Limbaugh) so this time around he opted to caddy for Rush (the band). As he puts it, "Riding my bike between shows doesn't leave me enough time for a full round of disc golf, but I can throw a pack on and walk around with the guys for the last part of their game. It's a nice way to clear my head." http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/disc-golf-neil%20caddie_zpsq5c1kihb.jpg The band is currently negotiating a deal with disc manufacturers Discraft, and a blacklight-reactive Rush Starman flying disc is planned for release in winter. Lifeson was the one who pushed for the psychedelic disc, stating it would be "totally trippy" to see it fly by in the dark. This line of thinking led him to push for a strobe-lit "disco golf" course, where Rush could play live while golfers enjoy their game. Peart and Lee declined to comment on this venture.
  19. Who loves ya baby? Hey guys...the setlist...it's all about you! http://31.media.tumblr.com/04b3fd03e3199a21644919d2954d9c7a/tumblr_n1g0p1nhvx1sg3xpdo1_400.gif How can you not "like" this?
  20. What do you think? Seems they're getting back to basics. That's a good thing--right?
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