Friday 1 July 2011

Staying out late (aka Moving Pictures).

(I'm going to start filing these posts under a FANGIRL or WACKY ESOTERIC CONCERT REVIEWS THAT AREN'T tag or something.)
Riding through the range of light to the wounded city
Filling my spirit with the wildest wish to fly
Taking the high road to the wounded city
Memory strumming at the heart of a moving picture

All this time I've been workin' them angels overtime
Riding and diving and flying
Just over the edge
Workin' them angels overtime
It's Canada Day, possibly the first one we've all been off for and can celebrate fully in the past decade. Every community across the country throws a party and we celebrate being uniquely different, a complete smorgasbord, undefinable as Canadians except in knowing that everyone loves us because we are helpful, fun and unfailingly polite. We're loyal. We talk funny, maple syrup is a food group, our rock music is incredibly distinctive and our country is so large some of us have missed whole provinces and territories and road trips take weeks instead of hours because each major center is isolated hours away from the next. Currently I live 6000 kilometers from where I was born and I feel right at home because I am still home.

We began our celebrations last night with a trip into town to see these guys. Everyone knows Rush is a Canadian band. Everyone.


They're our Pink Floyd, pretty much. Lochlan bought Moving Pictures with some of his money from working overtime, and I was not permitted to touch the vinyl record because my hands were always sticky from cotton candy. Or I was dirty. Or really pick something and he would turn it into a reason.

(For the record, I am still not allowed to touch the vinyl. Because I still have sticky, dirty fingers and am still a child in his eyes, but whatever. Someone hands me a record now and my mouth opens in a little awe-filled oo-sound, because they are still so forbidden to me.)

I saw Rush for the first time three years ago in Winnipeg, of all places (they have only played Halifax twice after all and both times I was too young to go) and was blown away. Blown away. So when they spooled up the Moving Pictures tour it was without question, we would be going.


(Obligatory awful concert snap. Loooooook! It's Aaaaaaaaaalex!)

And we did, last night in Vancouver and it was absolutely mind-numbingly awesome, again. Something like fourteen thousand people air-drumming in unison. Losing our shit to the opening strains of Tom Sawyer, the inevitable tears from me when Faithless was played, because that is my all-time favorite Rush song, and the ever-recognizable YYZ which we might know every single note to by heart, thanks to history, Canadian content laws for radio and television, good taste and Rock Band on the Xbox.

Three hours of music. Ben caught ONE missed note. One. We were exhausted, the band was not. Huh.

It was the perfect kick-off to Canada Day, I believe. I am sated until Clockwork Angels is released. When that happens I'm going to get a copy on vinyl just so I can smooth my fingers along the grooves, feeling the melodies underneath my skin and Lochlan won't be able to tell me I can't.