Oct 15 2017 11:13 PM
The Dire Straits discussion and the tangent about the near-perfection of Making Movies had me thinking about albums that actually are perfect.
I'm talking about every single track being solid. No filler, so songs that you immediately skip.
I bet everyone has a couple albums that they think are perfection, cut-for-cut.
I offer for discussion Moving Pictures by Rush.
While much of the music from the 1980s sounds dated -- and in some cases, that its charm -- all the songs on Moving Pictures still sound fresh and exciting. They are timeless.
“Tom Sawyer”
“Tom Sawyer” is “the music of the universe” according to an episode of Chuck, with the song serving a central role in the plot. Most groups have songs that you know they absolutely will not be allowed off the stage without playing. Rush has two, and this is one of them.
“Red Barchetta”
The lyrics were inspired by the short story “A Nice Morning Drive” by Richard S. Foster. Set in a future when cars are banned, our protagonist goes for a ride in a brilliant red Barchetta preserved by his uncle and encounters the authorities, whom he eludes after a high-speed chase. Neil tells it better, of course. But all high-school boys love the idea of rebelling against the authorities.
“YYZ”
This is a tale of heartache, which is pretty neat for an instrumental.
I wrote concert and album reviews for the high school paper. It was, perhaps, the only thing I did that was cool.
The sporadic publishing schedule meant that an issue included both my glowing album review of Moving Pictures and an equally glowing review of the tour stop at the Nassau Coliseum.
Now, like any good Rush-obsessed fan, I was aware that YYZ was the three-letter airport code for the airport in the band’s native Toronto. I also knew that the opening notes of the song were those letters in Morse code. I even knew that, being Canadians, the guys in Rush pronounced the letter Z “zed.”
In those days, we wrote our stories on a typewriter and turned them over to the editors who turned them over to someone else to typeset. This was a dangerous thing, as I learned. The morning the papers were delivered, I rushed to the stack to see both my reviews in print and bask in the praise.
Then I read the copy. Someone – the editor, the typesetter, who knows – either decided I didn’t know what I was talking about or wasn’t paying much attention and changed “YYZ” to “XYZ.” They did this in both reviews.
There was much sorrow and humiliation. Because, for the rest of the day, people stopped me in the corridor to inform me that the name of the song was “YYZ,” not “XYZ.”
I will get over this someday – but not any time soon.
“Limelight”
“Limelight” is a top-five Rush song and has always been a favorite. But I didn’t quite understand the full meaning of the lyrics until I read "Roadshow," one of Neil’s travel books, where he writes about riding his motorcycle between shows.
Throughout the book, Peart tells about how he is uncomfortable meeting fans, leaving that role to Alex and Geddy. He’s uneasy with the trappings of rock stardom, which is fine.
“Cast in this unlikely role, ill-equipped to act with insufficient tact. One must put up barriers to keep oneself intact.”
And:
“Living in a fisheye lens, caught in the camera eye. I have no heart to lie. I can’t pretend a stranger is a long-awaited friend.”
So if you run into Neil, don’t tell him how “Time Stand Still” changed your life and ask for an autograph. Just say “Thank you for the music” and move on.
“The Camera Eye”
This is a Rush song about New York. Do I need to say more?
“The Camera Eye” – the phrase doesn’t appear in the song – actually compares the homeland and London. Clocking in at nearly 11 minutes, it was the last of the long Rush songs. And all of it is glorious.
“Witch Hunt”
I had a really cool creative writing teacher who allowed us to bring in a song that we thought had great lyrics and play it in class.
If you’ve read this far, you knew I was going to use this opportunity before a captive audience to extoll the virtues of Rush. I settled upon “Witch Hunt,” with its soaring keyboards and haunting lyrics about prejudice and fear.
I remember beaming as one classmate said, “That was pretty cool.” Any opportunity to spread appreciation for Rush.
“Vital Signs”
Moving Pictures ends with the fairly experimental, “Vital Signs” which merges reggae and electronica to create a Rush classic.
The lyrics are unusual by Neil standards. But he ends with the phrases “Everybody got to deviate from the norm” and “Everybody got to elevate from the norm.” When you are a teenage boy who feels like an outcast much of the time, this is a rallying cry.
The album cover
I was allowed to tag along when my boss visited Toronto in 2013. Our agenda that day included a meeting with the premier of Ontario. As I sat in her outer office, it occurred to me that I was not just sitting in a beautiful and historic Canadian building. I was sitting in the Ontario Legislative Building.
Had we arrived at the main entrance, and not a side entrance closer to the street, I would have seen the three distinctive arches and short steps -- the cover of Moving Pictures.
What albums do you think are perfect?
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