Rush - 2112 (Album) Review

Warning: This review briefly discusses topics such as suicide and recreational drug use that may not be appropriate for younger audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

I bet you thought I’d stopped doing these a while ago, hadn’t you? Considering it’s been over three years since I last reviewed any albums from the discography of the legendary Canadian progressive rock band Rush, you’d be forgiven for thinking I’d moved on. Regardless, I’m back at it, and I’ll be covering a particularly well-known and well-loved Rush album today: 2112, originally released in March of 1976 by Mercury Records. Mercury Records executives were considering dropping Rush from the label after their previous two albums — Fly By Night and Caress of Steel — were considered significant critical and financial failures.

The band’s manager, Ray Danniels, negotiated with Mercury execs and convinced them to give Rush one more album, one more chance to prove themselves, before the record label terminated their contract. Mercury had been pressuring Rush to make more commercially successful music, but the band basically said, “Forget that, we’re going to make the music we want to make.” Lifeson, Lee, and Peart knew this was their last chance and that their careers depended on the success of their next album. Thus, the late Neil Peart said, “We simply decided that 2112 would have to be the realization of all our hopes.”

That brings us to the title track of 2112, a seven-part science-fiction epic that clocks in at over twenty minutes in length. The title comes from the fact that the story told in “2112’s” lyrics takes place in the year 2112, in the fictional city of Megadon. A major intergalactic war took place in 2062. The victors of that war, the so-called Solar Federation, annexed many of the planets they conquered during the conflict and forced them to live in societies in which individualism and creativity were banned. The Solar Federation’s takeover did bring about a time of peace, albeit an uneasy and boring one.

The second of “2112’s” seven parts, “The Temples of Syrinx,” introduces the group of priests who control the population of the Solar Federation’s intergalactic territory and reside within the titular temples. The Priests are basically the antagonists of this story, for lack of a more descriptive word. The Temples of Syrinx also house “great computers” which tell the Priests what to do and how to rule. A society in which the “powers that be” are actually computers that are believed to somehow be capable of effectively telling humans how to live their lives – this is all starting to sound uncomfortably familiar!

I’d better speed up my summary. An unnamed protagonist discovers a guitar in a cave and, although they have no idea what it’s called, they quickly figure out both how to play it and how much societal good could come from any music made with it. They present that guitar to the Priests, who promptly dismiss it as “a waste of time” and “another toy that helped destroy the elder race of Man” before destroying the guitar. Shocked and dismayed, our protagonist returns home, falls asleep, and dreams of an Oracle who shows them a distant planet where “the elder race of Man” still flourish.

When our protagonist awakens from that dream, they’re weighed down with the depressing knowledge that music can never be a part of their current society. The protagonist takes their own life, as evidenced by the lyrics, “My spirits are low, in the depths of despair | My lifeblood spills over…” There’s then an unspecified jump forward in time to a point where another intergalactic war has just ended, except this time, the planet our protagonist saw in their dream and the “elder race” that inhabited it have overthrown the rule of the Solar Federation. Quite an emotional roller coaster of a tale!

When I first got really into Rush as a kid, I understood basically nothing of the story told within “2112.” I still doubt I fully understand it, though I am comfortable saying I have more of a grasp of its morals and themes now that I’ve had another couple of decades to ponder it. As I alluded to earlier, it seems the story of “2112” has quite a few alarming parallels with current modern society. I don’t want to get into any political topics here, so I’ll instead say I love this song and understand why it takes up the entirety of 2112’s A-side.

The rest of the tracks on 2112 are entirely disconnected from its title track, which some may find jarring after the conclusion of the tale told on Side A. Track two is “A Passage to Bangkok,” a song whose lyrics describe drug tourism in the form of traveling to various countries to sample their local varieties of marijuana. Again, I don’t want to veer off into any political discussions, so I’ll just say I don’t disapprove of the ideas presented in “A Passage to Bangkok.” I guess you could say I have to remain vague instead of being “blunt” about it.

Track three is “The Twilight Zone,” written as an homage to the television program of the same name. All three members of Rush were huge fans of the show, often watching and re-watching old episodes of it together in their tour bus as a way of relaxing after live performances. Rush took a certain couple of stories written for The Twilight Zone by Rod Serling and turned them into one of their best lesser-known songs. I’ve never actually watched The Twilight Zone, but listening to this song hundreds of times over the years has been pushing me toward rectifying that.

Next up is “Lessons,” which is notable because its lyrics were written entirely by guitarist Alex Lifeson. Since drummer Neil Peart was the band’s primary lyricist, I’d like to think I’ve developed a knack for determining which songs were and weren’t written by him. I don’t think Alex Lifeson’s lyrics on “Lessons” were bad; the lyrics still clearly get the point across and convey their intended message. However, I don’t think Alex put everything in “Lessons” as eloquently as Neil likely could have. That being said, I still really enjoy “Lessons” and might even learn a thing or two from it myself.

2112’s penultimate track is called “Tears,” and its lyrics and music were written by frontman Geddy Lee. “Tears” is a romantic ballad that saw the band’s longtime cover artist, Hugh Syme, join them to play the Mellotron. This was right around the point in time when Rush’s “keyboard era” was starting to take shape, so I’m not surprised they incorporated an instrument like the Mellotron. The lyrics of “Tears” resonate with me rather deeply, particularly since Neil’s death a few years ago. That’s one major reason I think Geddy Lee improved as a lyricist compared to Rush’s previous albums.

The final track of 2112 is “Something for Nothing.” Neil Peart was inspired to write the lyrics to “Something for Nothing” after he encountered some graffiti that contained the phrase “freedom isn’t free.” “Something for Nothing” is about the importance of exercising one’s freewill and being decisive. That’s a concept Rush would return to in later years, such as in… well, “Freewill” from 1980’s Permanent Waves. I strongly agree with the ideas conveyed in the lyrics of “Something for Nothing,” but that’s far from the only reason I enjoy this song — and, really, this entire album — as thoroughly as I do.

I think that just about covers everything, folks! I want to get back into the “groove” of writing about music again, and I see no better way to do so than by continuing a project I began long ago. I will eventually review every Rush studio album, likely in chronological order. I’ll do my best to make sure that process doesn’t take until the year 2112 to complete. Next time I get around to writing a music review, my subject will be Rush’s 1977 album, A Farewell to Kings. I’m sure it’s purely coincidental that its title could also apply to modern geopolitics…