
“It is demanding”: The 1991 Rush song Neil Peart was most satisfied with
Songs are like children; each is special in its own way, but everybody has their favourites, too. For a band like Rush, whose discography stretches multiple decades, genres, and styles, picking your favourites certainly becomes a much more difficult task.
With a catalogue spanning everything from sprawling prog epics to radio-friendly rock anthems, Rush never stood still for long. That constant evolution makes identifying standout moments a challenge even for the musicians themselves.
Indeed, if you were to ask one hundred Rush fans for their favourite song, you would probably come away with one hundred different answers. The game changes somewhat, though, when asking the band members themselves, like Neil Peart, to select highlights from their own discography.
Although Peart had not been on board with Rush from their initial formation in 1968, the drummer certainly ushered in the first golden age of the band when he joined the ranks in 1974. During this period, the inherent sound of Rush was largely limited to hard and progressive rock, which earned the Canadian rockers an incredibly dedicated cult following, along with an impressive degree of commercial success. Even outside of hard rock and prog scenes, the drumming brilliance of Peart helped to give the group something of a universal appeal.
Regularly hailed among the greatest rock drummers of the 20th century, Peart played with an unparalleled level of technical knowledge and skill, along with a constant ability for improvisation and organic creation. Those two attributes rarely collide within rock, particularly not to the extent of Peart’s playing. In fact, if you had to boil down the appeal of Rush into its purest form, it is fairly likely it would come down to Peart’s drumming.

For a player as skilled as Peart, however, playing the same songs over and over again can become something of a chore. So, over the course of the four decades he spent with Rush, playing concerts night after night to audiences across the globe, it is easy to envision Peart becoming sick of certain compositions. Seemingly, the more complex a piece was, the more Peart would enjoy playing it, itching his desire for challenging, skilful drumming.
This probably shines a light on why ‘Bravado’, a relatively obscure album-only track from 1991’s Roll the Bones, remained a particular favourite of Peart’s for many years. During one interview in 1992, he said the track “satisfies me to listen to…and to play as well.”
Nonetheless, the song is certainly no picnic to play – as any self-respecting drummer will gladly tell you. In fact, Peart himself admitted, “It’s deceptively simple, perhaps, to someone who is not sitting down and trying to play it. It may sound easy enough, but from my point of view, on the level of refinements and the technical level, it is demanding.”
If a drum track is “demanding” for Neil Peart, it is fair to say that it would be near-impossible for the vast majority of drummers out there. “To juggle all those different approaches to verses,” he shared, “and keep the tempo smooth, and all those other elements…including sequencers when we play it live, makes it challenging. The consistency of tempo during something like that becomes critical.”
Another potential reason for ‘Bravado’ being a favourite of Peart’s is that it, along with the rest of Roll the Bones, came shortly after the band’s often maligned keyboard era. The album, along with its predecessor, signalled a return to out-and-out, guitar-led rock and roll music, as well as a return to commercial success. There is no doubt that Peart’s excitement over this change in style motivated many of the compositions on the 1991 album, which is probably why the record contains many of his finest drumming moments.
Although it may never receive the same attention as tracks like ‘Tom Sawyer’ or ‘YYZ’, ‘Bravado’ demonstrates why Peart’s reputation remains so formidable. Beneath its accessible exterior lies a performance built on nuance, control and the kind of musicianship that only reveals itself after repeated listens.