
The lowest moment of Rush’s career, according to Neil Peart
Rush is a band that has succeeded in capturing the hearts of music lovers from all over the world. Their experimental approach to music and lack of limitations when it comes to exploring different styles and concepts means that they have a variety available, which is difficult for people to ignore. Of course, given their elongated career, things haven’t always been easy for them.
Experimental music is complicated. It can be hard to take criticism for albums that are a bit “Out there,” as generally, what many people like about the music is the same thing that many people dislike. “This sound is so messy” can be a good thing for some people and a bad thing for others. As an experimental band, Rush had this problem when they released their album Caress of Steel. It was a broad and strange record that they were obsessed with as a musical unit, but that didn’t seem to connect with audiences at large.
“It was weird,” said Neil Peart when discussing the record, “We loved it so much when we made it. We were flushed with the excitement – it was our second album together as the three of us – and we knew we were going all over the shop stylistically. Then when it didn’t do well we were kind of stung about it for a little while.”
Now, with the power of hindsight and a lot more music behind them, Rush recognises that the album was stylistically broad, but there was also nothing holding it together. As a result, it meant that there was nothing for listeners to latch on to. To make good experimental music, there at least has to be a starting point, a steady road to kick off the journey, which then takes more left and rights than the most haphazard of trips, but the band didn’t seem to do that with Caress.
What made the reaction to Caress of Steel particularly bruising was how closely the band tied their identity to creative risk. Rush were not interested in playing it safe or retreating to formulas that had already proven successful. For Peart, Geddy Lee, and Alex Lifeson, experimentation was not a side quest but the entire point. When audiences failed to follow them down that path, it did not just feel like a commercial rejection, but a questioning of the band’s instincts at their core.
That moment of doubt forced Rush to confront what kind of band they wanted to be. They could have softened their sound, shortened their songs, or abandoned the ambition that had driven them forward. Instead, they doubled down, but with sharper focus and clearer intent. The failure of Caress of Steel did not kill their confidence so much as refine it, showing them that experimentation needed structure if it was going to land with listeners as powerfully as it did with the band themselves.
“I don’t think it really stands up,” said Peart, “It is all over the shop, and it is experimental, and its only real virtue is its sincerity, but at least that’s something.” Of course, there were positives to making the album; as Peart notes, “We wouldn’t have made 2112 if we hadn’t made that. I can trace the roots of all our material from our previous experiments. Sometimes the experiment didn’t work but the lesson is learned and it becomes a template for the future.”
It’s great to look back on the album now, knowing that it gave rise to important lessons for the band, but before that, it was a tough time for Rush, and they weren’t sure whether or not they could come back. The album didn’t sell great, and the tour sucked the life from them all, to the point that they jokingly referred to it as the “Down The Tubes Tour.”
“By the end of that year we were unable to pay our crew’s salaries – or our own,” said Peart, “Things were dire, and we were getting a lot of pressure because that was in the summer of ’75, and by the end of that year we were in proverbial dire straits.”
Rush’s next album, 2112, marked a big turning point for the band; however, after the release of Caress of Steel, it looked like it may have been over before it even began.