The legendary drummer Neil Peart thought was great “by accident”
Not every drummer wants to be the best musician in the world. For all of the great bands with virtuosic percussionists sitting behind the kit, just as many can get their job done by holding down a solid groove throughout a song that keeps everything moving. While Neil Peart may have been able to rise to the occasion as one of the best drummers of all time, he thought one of his heroes became a drum god through happenstance.
When first trying out in bands, though, it didn’t look like Peart would get a shot at playing in Rush. While both bands originated in Canada playing blues-focused rock and roll, Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson already had John Rutsey behind the kit, leading to Peart staying in his original band, JR Flood.
As the years went on, it became apparent that Rutsey’s approach to rock music wouldn’t gel with what the rest of the band wanted to do. Wanting to sound more in line with acts like Bad Company, Rutsey would leave the fold after their debut album, leading Peart to take over on their album Fly By Night, marking his debut as the primary lyricist for the group.
Outside of his drum heroes like Ginger Baker, though, Peart deeply loved the drum legends coming out of the jazz world. Although there were artists like Buddy Rich who played the drums as a man possessed, the amount of fury that Gene Krupa played with couldn’t be matched by any of his peers.
Later, serving as the inspiration for the sounds of hard rock and heavy metal, Krupa’s style was all over the place stylistically, including him wailing away on the drums while also being able to lay down a rhythmic foundation when the time called for it. Though Peart loved how Krupa played, his true drum teacher wouldn’t come until a few years later.
For Peart, greatness on the drums was never just about control or discipline. What fascinated him most were players who sounded like they were discovering the instrument in real time, reacting on instinct rather than following a predetermined path. That sense of risk made the performance feel alive, even when the technique itself was imperfect or unrefined.
Those kinds of drummers often stood apart from formal schooling. Instead of mastering the rules first, they seemed to break them immediately, letting personality and momentum guide their playing. It was a quality that could not be taught, only observed, and it left a deeper impression on Peart than pure technical brilliance ever could.
While Krupa may not be considered a touchstone in rock and roll, he practically served as the world’s preparation for Keith Moon of The Who. Compared to the delicate sounds of jazz, Moon turned every single song into a dynamic exercise, leathering the life out of his drumkit and turning Pete Townshend’s classic songs into spectacles on tracks like ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’.
Despite Moon having years of experience behind the drumkit, Peart thought that part of his personality came out whenever he played, saying, “To me, he was the kind of drummer who did great things by accident rather than design. But the energy, expressiveness and innovation that he represented at the time was very important and great”.
Even though Peart would take many lessons from Moon’s playing, his dynamic style was more precise than most of his peers. Despite having a healthy dose of swing in his delivery, Peart sounded like a mad scientist at work behind the kit half the time, playing songs that sounded like an endurance test from beginning to end.
By combining his love of jazz and hard rock, Peart took up the mantle where Moon left off, playing drums to serve the song and showcasing his technique. Most rock drummers might be able to hold down a steady groove, but Moon proved to PEart that no amount of drum lessons can make up for a sense of power.
