When Rush comes on the radio I feel very much like I imagine the American public felt when they first heard “talkies.” Geddy Lee grates on my nerves so badly I have to switch the station immediately, or else risk driving headlong into oncoming traffic. I feel exactly the same way about A Prairie Home Companion. I would gladly subject myself to a month of fingernails on the chalkboard or even a pro-life sermon if I could be spared hearing the man from Minnesota ruin another poem for all eternity. Message to the fine folks at Gitmo: scrap the waterboards and put 2112 on repeat. Follow it up with mid-afternoon NPR for a quick confession. It’s failproof.
I know, Geddy Lee’s lyrics are brilliant, and Keillor’s a genius. I just don’t hear it. As far as I’m concerned, Rush has no lyrics. They just have a whiny Canuck saying something or another in a tone of voice that makes me wish I had a life insurance policy so I could drive off a bridge and be spared the pain, yet still pay off my mortgage.
As far as Keillor is concerned, I’ve been known to run across the room to wrestle my boyfriend away from the radio. That stupid detective bit makes me want to resurrect Raymond Chandler, stick a bottle in his hand and a pen in the other and show that baritone so-and-so how a real noir writer gets busy.
They’re both awful.
But which is worse?
Tomorrow: The loser takes on Rosie Perez!
SUBDUVISIONS. WHAT BETTER JAM FOR THE YOUTH?
Sprawling on the fringes of the city
In geometric order
An insulated border
In between the bright lights
And the far unlit unknown
Growing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass production zone
Nowhere is the dreamer
Or the misfit so alone
Subdivisions —
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
Subdivisions —
In the basement bars
In the backs of cars
Be cool or be cast out
Any escape might help to smooth
The unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe
The restless dreams of youth
Drawn like moths we drift into the city
The timeless old attraction
Cruising for the action
Lit up like a firefly
Just to feel the living night
Some will sell their dreams for small desires
Or lose the race to rats
Get caught in ticking traps
And start to dream of somewhere
To relax their restless flight
Somewhere out of a memory
Of lighted streets on quiet nights…
So when we were all rocking out to Rush in Sitver’s 6th grade class, you were silently suffering?
-Tom
Glad Rush can’t pack big arenas anymore so he can see them at more “intimate” venues
You’re referring to Rush the Band, right? Not Rush the fucktard. Right?
Am I the only one with such a hatred for Prairie Home Companion??
Tom, I never rocked out to Rush. Ever. Michael Jackson, certainly. Duran Duran, of course. I wouldn’t even look at boys with Rush patches on their denim jackets!
Okay, I remember the Michael Jackson controversy. IIRC, the Jackson fans wanted the right to display fancrap outside their lockers, but there were a bunch of 6th grade Culture Nazis who came out against it due to Jackson’s sucktitude. I think I came down on the side of the Culture Nazis, as I hadn’t yet turned liberal.
Anyway, I think Rush should be spared. They put on a good show at Mohegan Sun. Plus, listening to them reminds me of parking with a date at New Beach, which is a good thing, IMHO.
How can I change your mind?
Filter Geddy Lee’s voice through a vocoder, for starters.
All of this is moot, since either Rush or Garrison Keillor would lose to Rosie Perez.
And Rosie Perez would lose to Don Johnson, who you were a huge fan of in 6th grade.
I have no such reaction to the group Rush. However, I do share the reservations to A Prarie Home Companion. It is so calming as to be offensive. I love the Gitmo reference.
Everyone hates Prairie Home Companion; they’re just afraid to say so.
I reserve all pop culture/media hatred for Andie McDowell, but forced to choose… I’d place Keillor well ahead of Rush/Geddy Lee on my *hit* list.
I can’t imagine anyone who doesn’t own a Volvo station wagon with a dreamcatcher hanging off the rearview mirror would be reluctant to hate on A Prairie Home Companion.