Review: Rush – Moving Pictures (1981)

Moving Pictures is Rush’s eighth studio album.

Founded in 1968, the Canadian band Rush took a long time to realize its true potential. The band’s early albums were a somewhat awkward mix of hard rock and progressive rock clichés, but by 1980 with Permanent Waves, the band truly seemed to shed its skin and find its own natural style. That album saw the band streamline its expression, incorporating more pop/rock influences. Moving Pictures successfully continues down this path of refinement.

Rush was originally meant to take a break after their hit album Permanent Waves and release a live album, but during the soundchecks of the tour promoting that album, several promising song demos emerged, so the trio hurriedly headed back to the studio instead.

Moving Pictures kicks off with the deliciously rocking ”Tom Sawyer.” The song begins with low, rumbling Oberheim synthesizer chords and a solid 4/4 drum beat that was still quite atypical for Rush at this point. Vocalist/bassist Geddy Lee sings with confident emphasis, without succumbing to the comical howling of previous albums. And if the fairly straightforward vocals are effective, the instrumental section in 7/8 time, which kicks in with a prog shift, is even more impressive. Lee’s bass guitar playing, which is powerful yet detailed and precisely articulated, is particularly impressive. A small minus for the song has to be given for its overly hasty ending. Such a great song deserved better than a lazy fade-out.

”Tom Sawyer” is one of the few Rush songs with lyrics written by an outside lyricist. The song is based on a poem about a modern-day rebel written by drummer Neil Peart’s (1952-2020) friend Pye Dubois, which Peart then turned into lyrics. The name Tom Sawyer refers, of course, to the eponymous character created by author Mark Twain, who adventures in the book The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, set during the American Civil War.

The next track, ”Red Barchetta,” begins airily and downright leisurely. However, Alex Lifeson’s tight guitar riff soon brings a sense of urgency. If the gentle intro successfully depicts a leisurely Sunday drive along a coastal road running alongside a beautiful mountain range, the rest of the song seems to describe an intense car chase somewhere in the concrete maze of a big city. These images correspond to the reality of the lyrics, at least to some extent. The song is indeed about cars. And about driving them. The story of ”Red Barchetta,” inspired by Richard Forster’s short story ”A Nice Morning Drive,” depicts a future where driving private cars is strictly prohibited by law. However, the rebellious protagonist of the story takes his uncle’s little red Ferrari for a drive without permission. The nasty representatives of the authorities then harass this hero of his own life with their futuristic air vehicles. Looking on the bright side, Peart’s lyrics about this ”terrible dystopia” where you can no longer drive sports cars to your heart’s content can, of course, be seen as a plea for individual freedom, but in my opinion, the whole thing just seems pretty silly. Fortunately, musically, ”Red Barchetta” works great from start to finish, with exciting little rhythmic tricks that drive the song’s chase atmosphere forward and successfully describe the thrill of speeding around in a sacred metal contraption. ”Red Barchetta” is an excellent blend of pop and prog.

The third track on the album is probably its best-known song, which is perhaps a little surprising given that it is entirely instrumental. And it is a truly brilliant instrumental piece. Named after the Toronto airport code, ”YYZ” feels like a stylistic continuation of Rush’s wild ”La Villa Strangiatto,” but whereas that song from Hemispheres (1978) lasted nine minutes, Rush manages to condense its message into a magnificent four minutes. Progressive rock is more than just 20-minute epics, and ”YYZ” is a prime example of this. Rush packs a tremendous amount of great ideas and skillful playing into four minutes, and does so in a way that makes the whole thing sound natural.

The song is somewhat unusually credited only to Peart and Lee. And ”YYZ” is indeed a celebration of the rhythm section. The song features perhaps the finest drumming of Peart’s career (the drum sounds are also excellent throughout the album). The song’s 5/4 rhythm is based on the Morse code formed by the letters ”YYZ,” and its staccato rhythm is largely the highlight of the song. The trio plays together very tightly, but at the same time in a relaxed and loose manner. The music has not been overworked in the studio with endless takes, not to mention post-production fixes.

As a slightly amusing afterthought, it is worth mentioning that ”YYZ” uses sounds resembling breaking glass as part of its rhythms. Broken glass seems to have been in vogue in the early 80s… the effect was heard not only in ”YYZ” but also around the same time on albums by Kate Bush, Peter Gabriel, and Art Bears, among others.

Alex Lifeson, Neil Peart and Geddy Lee.

Peart’s lyrics in ”Red Barchetta” are a little awkward to listen to, but ”Limelight” represents one of his finest moments as a lyricist. Known as a shy man who values his privacy, Peart reflects on the curse of success in ”Limelight,” which in this case mainly refers to how fame inevitably leads to a loss of privacy and how difficult that can be for an introvert who became famous simply because he was particularly good at something. Lyrics like these can easily come across as the self-pitying whining of a rich rock star, but Peart’s lyrics manage to avoid this trap because they seem to come straight from the heart. And overall, instead of being a tearful lament, their tone is more matter-of-fact: the situation isn’t ideal, but this is how it is. It is, of course, a little funny that such personal lyrics are sung not by the writer himself but by bassist Lee.

So far, my praise has mainly been directed at Peart and Lee, but in the case of ”Limelight,” the spotlight (*badum-tish*) can be directed at Alex Lifeson, whose nimble, slightly Allan Holdsworth-esque solo with just the right amount of melancholy, is simply wonderful to listen to. Of course, Lifeson plays many other excellent guitar solos on the album, but in ”Limelight” he achieves something truly rare.

In addition to Lifeson’s guitar playing, ”Limelight” is exemplary listening in other ways as well. With its more rounded edges, it is perhaps even more successful than ”Red Barchetta” in its fusion of pop-inspired arena rock catchiness and progressive sophistication.

Read also: Review: Yes – Drama (1980)

Side B of the album kicks off with the nearly 11-minute-long ”The Camera Eye.” The song, which begins slowly with synthesizers, is a tad dull compared to the delicacies on side A, but on the other hand, its more expansive form brings variety to the album. The energetic, rolling section that begins just before the three-minute mark is great to listen to, and it’s almost a shame that it’s cut short by a chugging guitar riff that brings Lee’s vocals to the fore. Lee sings well on the song, but the melody itself isn’t particularly inspired. ”The Camera Eye” is by no means a bad song, but it is less than the sum of its parts and, for me, the least exciting track on Moving Pictures. ”The Camera Eye” was Rush’s last long song. From then on, the band would stick rather slavishly to the 4-6 minute format.

(What on earth was the obsession with cameras among prog musicians in the early 80s? Gentle Giant wrote a song called ”I Am Camera” in 1980, and Yes sang the chorus ”I am camera, camera” in ”In To The Lens” that same year. Renaissance released an album called Camera Camera a year later… (Of course, Peter Hammill had already been In Camera in 1974.) What a bunch of lens lovers!)

As the synthesizers of ”The Camera Eye” fade into the ether, we move on to the cryptically named song ”Witch Hunt” (Part III of ”Fear”), accompanied by ringing bells. The explanation for the name, or rather the latter part of it, goes something like this: Peart wrote lyrics for three songs dealing with the impact of fear on everyday life, but he struggled with the texts, and the third part, ”Witch Hunt,” was completed first and ended up being recorded first, contrary to the original chronology. The first two parts (”Enemy Within” and ”The Weapon”) saw the light of day on Rush’s next two albums, and the trilogy was finally continued with a fourth song on the album Vapor Trails (2002).

”Witch Hunt” differs from the other songs due to its richer instrumentation. The previous songs sound as if they could be played by three men at once, but ”Witch Hunt” contains a lot of overdubs. In particular, various percussion instruments such as tubular bells, gongs, and other instruments. In fact, the band briefly became a quartet on ”Witch Hunt,” as cover artist Hugh Syme also plays keyboards on the track. The most stylish synthesizer parts on the album can be heard on ”Witch Hunt.” I would assume that this is not related to Syme himself. The polyphonic Oberheim synthesizer sounds thick and majestic in the song. These, like the other small synthesizer embellishments on the album, are a simple but stylish addition to the band’s rock sound.

The album ends with ”Vital Signs,” in which Rush returns to flirt lightly with reggae-meets-new-wave vibes influenced by The Police. In fact, ”Vital Signs” reminds me a little of Yes’s excellent Drama album from the previous year. Rush had already experimented lightly with reggae in the hit ”Spirit Of The Radio” from Permanent Waves, but now the influences are even clearer. I’m not a big fan of reggae myself, but I’ve always found Rush’s experiments with the genre entertaining, and ”Vital Signs” is no exception. Despite the reggae-esque guitar riff, the band still sounds sufficiently like themselves and not like a copy of The Police, for example. And of course, they are miles away from being true Rastafarians. Reggae was no longer a completely new thing for Rush, but the synth bursts heard in the song are perhaps more revolutionary in the sense that they are probably the first programmed sequences heard on a Rush album. Over the next ten years or so, the role of synthesizers and other modern technology in Rush’s music grew with each album.

”Vital Signs” is an excellent conclusion to the B-side, which, however, does not quite reach the level of the brilliant A-side.

Read also:

Moving Pictures quickly became Rush’s most successful album, climbing high on the sales charts, especially in Canada and the US. The album eventually sold over five million copies in the US alone. Most significantly, the band managed to reach the next level of popularity without alienating their old fans, as is often the case with ambitious rock bands that achieve huge success. Rush had changed the direction of their music quietly and gradually, rather than all at once, which was an excellent strategy considering the band’s long-term popularity.

Neil Peart has said that Moving Pictures should have been Rush’s first album. I wouldn’t go quite that far, as the band’s earlier albums also have their moments, but Moving Pictures is undeniably an excellent example of how a veteran band can reinvent itself in a natural way. In my opinion, Moving Pictures is not only one of Rush’s three best albums, but also one of the finest prog pop albums of the 1980s.

Best tracks: ”Tom Sawyer”, ”Red Barchetta”, ”YYZ”, ”Limelight”

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.
Author: JANNE YLIRUUSI

Tracks

  1. ”Tom Sawyer” 4:34
  2. ”Red Barchetta” 6:10
  3. ”YYZ” (instrumental) 4:26
  4. ”Limelight” 4:20
  5. ”The Camera Eye 10:58
  6. ”Witch Hunt” (Part III of ”Fear”) 4:46
  7. ”Vital Signs” 4:46

Musicians

Geddy Lee: bass guitars, keyboards, bass pedals, vocals Alex Lifeson: acoustic guitars, electric guitars, Moog Taurus pedals Neil Peart: drums, percussion

Producer: Rush & Terry Brown
Label: Anthem Records / Mercury Records

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