Proof of Neil's comment about the Rolling Stones and Beatles
OTIS
Excellent interview!!
It shows the true character of Neil. Thanks for
posting it.
OTIS
JimmerG007
Magazine from June 1981:
And when Peart began saying that the Rolling Stones and the Beatles were not
that good of [sic!] bands, "I simply questioned his intelligence."
The entire interview: This interviewer is a true ASSHOLE.
[ Taken from Creem -- June 1981 ]
RUSH: But why are they in such a hurry?
by J. Kordosh
The infamous J. Kordosh interview with Neil. But first, here's a Creem
editorial comment which came out some time afterward:
Both writers have had ups and downs in their careers. Kordosh, who admits that
it is impossible for him to be objective, has had his share of negative
experiences.
Aside from having been beaten up by Ray Davies of the Kinks, Kordosh said his
interview with Neil Peart of Rush was exceptionally bad. "Neil Peart takes
himself very seriously," says Kordosh. And when Peart began saying that the
Rolling Stones and the Beatles were not that good of [sic!] bands, "I simply
questioned his intelligence."
Kordosh wrote a rather unflattering article on Peart and, consequently, Rush
has not had any correspondence with Creem in the past five years. Kordosh,
however, laughs about the fact.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
------
Thursday: Kordosh has been roused from his afternoon nap by Sherry Ring,
publicist for Mercury Records. Ring is calling from New York to firm up
connections for next week's Rush interviews.
"No problem with Neil and Alex," says Ms. Ring. "But Geddy still says he won't
talk to anyone from CREEM."
"Hmmph? Huh? Whannot?" mumbles Kordosh.
"Well, it's that Eleganza..."
"Till 'im I dint write it," Kordosh snoozes. "Lots of people cut up in that
one."
"I know, but...well, if he sees things are going well with the other guys maybe
he'll change his mind."
"His business."
"By the way, did I mention that the album's gone gold?"
"Huh? Album? Permanent Waves? Went gold along time ago, dint?"
"No, the new one!"
"New one? Thought it was just released...has it been released?"
"Two weeks ago! Isn't that something?"
"Yeah, that's something alright," admits a practically-there Kordosh. Now the
question is: what?
Sunday: Doze-addict Kordosh is glancing at his morning paper through
half-closed eyes, hoping that there's a good basketball game on TV today. This
getting up at 10:30 is killing him. A review of Moving Pictures, catches a
mucous-filled eye.
Congenitally unable to understand phrases like "smoldering rock masterpiece,"
"jazz-influenced virtuosity" and "visceral rock sounds," he begins to nod off
until a single sentence falls off the page: "What's most interesting is Neil
Peart's perceptive lyrics." Having listened to the LP in question, he feels his
viscera -- which are the internal organs of his body -- begin to quiver.
Nothing like a smoldering rock review he decides, his head hitting the pillow.
Thursday: Sherry Ring has called again, this time to finalize the Rushaviews.
Unfortunately, Kordosh -- guilty of a rare act of motion -- is not home and
misses the call. He cheerfully dials Ms. Ring, reversing the charges.
The publicist mentions that Moving Pictures will be slotted #8 with a bullet in
next week's Billboard charts. The dazed Kordosh, by now able to continue
tracking the twelve-inch virtuosity, wonders if he should pray for the souls of
all the polyvinyl cows slaughtered in the cause. Later in the evening he
listens to the record again, but falls asleep during side two. It might be
mentioned that he suffers a similar reaction while reading through the many
poems junior high schools students send him for critical perusal.
Friday: And the 13th of the month as well. A cold wind sweeps Detroit as
Kordosh makes his way to the Pontchartrain Hotel to meet Sherry Ring.
Personable and charming, she tells him Rush was awarded a platinum Chu-Bop for
Permanent Waves; he is fascinated by the favorable review.
They walk over to Cobo Arena, where the band is running through their sound
check. Sherry suggests that they sit somewhere where Rush won't see them, so as
not to disturb the sound check. As Cobo seats around 12,000 people and no one
else is in the arena, this does not present an insurmountable difficulty.
However, it does cause Kordosh to idly wonder exactly what he could do to
disrupt the activities of people standing on an elevated stage some hundreds of
feet from him. Drop his pencil real loud?
After a half-hour of sitting on their thumbs, the pair return to the hotel,
where they are met by CREEM editors Sue Whitall, Dave DiMartino, and Mark
Norton. Splendid sea-food cuisine is enjoyed by all, and many drinks as well.
The talk turns to whether or not Rush has a sense of humor. Pointing to the
Chu-Bop cover of Permanent Waves, DiMartino notes "I'd be worried if a band put
out that cover and didn't have a sense of humor." The portentous comment is
generally forgotten as the conversation degenerates...but Kordosh will have
good reason to remember it later.
After dinner, only Norton doesn't chicken out, agreeing to go to the concert
with Kordosh.
Friday/The Concert: Well, I'm Kordosh, and I suppose it's time I got this thing
into the first person. I wouldn't want anyone to think that this is written on
some kind or rock or anything.
I was later able to infer that Rush have some sort of collective paranoia about
making mistakes during a live performance. Of course, this is intrinsically
impossible, as their material is one gigantic mistake unto itself. Although
even the running dogs of criticism have been woofing and wagging lately, Rush's
last two albums aren't all that much different than their earlier Alpo. I mean,
how many levels of pretentious boredom can there be?
What's more, this miasma of moronism is about as dangerous as getting shampoo
in your eyes. In other words, it has nothing to do with rock 'n' roll, or even
crossing the street against the light. I haven't seen every act in the world,
but I daresay that the Irish Rovers take more chances onstage.
The best that can be said about these musicians-by-innuendo is that Alex
Lifeson is a competant post-Page guitarist. Geddy Lee, who played -- excuse me,
strapped on -- a double-necked bass during one song, plays with all the gusto
of a teen-aged girl who's thinking about giving up ballet lessons for punk
rock. And Neil Peart can hide behind every triangle, gong, bell, empty paint
can, and any other percussion instrument he can think of -- adults will prefer
one good wallop from Charlie Watts from now until 2112. Wait a minute, I forgot
that Geddy Lee is also the group's vocalist. At least, I wanted to.
Since a Rush concert is de facto humorless, Norton and I had to "make our own
fun." Peart's drum solo -- I swear, it's true -- during "YYZ" wasn't exactly a
scream, but Norton asking "Does this mean I'll miss The Love Boat?" helped a
whole lot. We prowled the corridors, interviewing hapless Rush fans (REdundant,
Kordo). Sample snip from the tape: "Why do you like Rush?" "Rush ROCK
DE-TROIT!" "No, no; Tokyo rocks Detroit." And so on; I brooded over the
potential sequel "ZZZ."
But the fun was ending and pretty soon we'd be facing the real music -- Neil
Peart, lyricist. And I use the word in the broadest sense.
Friday/The First Interview: Backstage with Peart seated across from me (and
Norton standing behind me), I thought Peart looked more like 35 than his late
20ish. Dressed in a red sweatshirt, blue jeans, and bright blue tennis shoes,
he appeared decidedly normal -- except for his eyes, which hae the zomboid
intensity of the you-can't-escape-me zealot.
(I should mention, perhaps, that Peart has no sense of humor whatsoever,
although he'll deny that claim. What the hell, maybe he does have some kind of
sense of humor, but you'll probably find Kennedy's brain buried in your
backyard before you find it. In any case, it goes along way in explaining what
followed.)
First off, we had to clear up -- for the sixth or seventh time -- exactly why
Geddy Lee wouldn't talk to us. (Let me make it clear that I rank a conversation
with Geddy Lee just below "standing in line" on my list of cool things to do.)
The entire thing stems from a tragic misunderstanding: in the October, 1980
issue of CREEM -- I'm pretty sure it was CREEM, but maybe I should check --
editors Whitall and DiMartine cooked up a fictional debate between "Janie
Jones" and "Geddy Lee Roth" for the ever-whimsical Eleganza column. Well,
perceptive-guy Geddy sure enough knew where they got that name from...although
I'm not saying that it would not take him several days of hard thinking.
Satire-hater Peart explained: "It was insulting -- the things that were put
into his mouth were things he would never say, in a way that he would never say
them. And no one in their right minds would be compared to David Lee Roth."
Don't take it seriously, David Lee, I betcha he's only kidding!
But no! "The magazine did it," Peart continued.
"The magazine did what?" asked Mark "I Wish I Were At Bookie's" Norton.
"The magazine slandered Geddy."
Pouring oil on these troubled waters (and simultaneously looking for my Bic
lighter), I said "Wait a minute. If you took this to court, CREEM would win
hands down. It's clear-cut satire. And there are laws that say that if this is
obvious satire, there is no libel."
"Obviously," Peart agreed. "Are we talking about laws, though, or are we
talking about morals? It was immoral; it wasn't funny."
"I'm glad you mentioned that," I lied. "I see a lot of threads running through
your lyrics, but one I can't pick up on is humor. Is there a reason for this?
Is there something I'm missing??"
"I'm not a comedian. I'm a musician and a lyricist...I'm not interested in
being a humorist."
Well, you and me and Johnson makes three, Neil, old pal. Knowing a good thing,
I pressed on: "Do you see rock music as being funny in any way?"
"Mmm," mulled the author of "By-Tor And The Snow Dog." Some people I think, are
--`witty'-- put it that way," he said, pronouncing `witty' in an exaggerated
sissy tone.
"It's just that this -- what I would call a lack of humor -- is what let you
guys in for a lot of criticism," I offered.
"No, no. You see, you're dealing with cynical, jaded critics here, who in a lot
of cases, are frustrated musicians. The people who have given us the
`humorless' tag are the frustrated, jaded people...cynical...who think that the
only thing that's good is what's funny and off-color."
I didn't have the heart to tell Neil the real truth, namely that this
frustrated musician hoo-hah is just the tip of the iceberg. What we really are
is frustrated writers. Now, can anybody guess why?
"If we laughed at our words, then we'd have to laugh at our audience, just like
so many bands do. They say `Hah, these stupid schmucks,' and they (the stupid
schmucks) soak it up. We don't look at it that way. We give our audience the
credit of being as intelligent as we are." Danger! Danger! Straight line!! But
who are these blackguards who are out there laughing at you jerks anyway?
"There are lots of people who laugh at their audience. Lots of bands and lots
of writers and lots of authors do it."
"But let's face it -- rock music ain't Jesus Christ back on earth," I said.
"It's simply another mode of entertainment. It can be funny."
"If you look at it that way. To me, it's a reflection of my life. I spent the
better part of my life learning how to do it, so to me it's not a joke."
Well, seeing that things were really moving along, I figured I'd try the old
aren't-you-guilty-now-that-you're-rich chestnut.
"Do you feel guilty at all about making as much money as you do compared to
other people who work every bit as hard as you do?" I equivocated.
"Uh, no; on the contrary. There's no amount of money that could pay you back
for what you go through doing what we do."
"What about other people?"
"Which other people?"
"You know, the ones that work for a living."
"It's not really the same. I mean, I have done ordinary jobs. You can't go out
in front of 10,000 people and make a fool of yourself. It's really not the same
as going to work in a factory every day, I'm sorry," he said, addending his
nervous-tic laughter.
"But I've heard the Stones slop up some songs beyond belief -- I mean, the
Stones -- I heard Keith Richard come in on a chorus of `Honky Tonk Women' where
there was no chorus! It was OK."
"They're the people who laugh at their audience," explained the patient Peart.
"The Stones?"
"Sure they do. You don't think they're good?" This wasn't a question; it was a
statement.
"I think they've written a good song or two."
"You can't say they're good musicians," countered Peart, who was evidently
talking about some other Stones than the ones I've been listening to.
"They're good musicians. They're astute songwriters."
"Astute? In other words, clever marketing strategists."
A little later, this "marketing" baloney was sliced a little thicker. We'd
gotten around to the sophomoric ending of "Spirit of Radio" ("For the words of
the profits are written on the studio wall, concert hall/Echoes with the sound
of salesman"); I'd asked Peart if he was consciously emulating Paul Simon when
he wrote it.
"This is where a sense of humor comes into it. I was sitting there thinking of
the conclusion of the song and the parody came into my mind. And I thought,
"Well, either this is very stupid or it's very great."
Right.
"But all it says is...salesman as artists I can see as an ideal, but they have
no place telling us what to play onstage and they have no place in the
recording studio telling us how to write songs...any more than a car salesman."
"I imagine any band with integrity would feel the same way," I naively added.
"But your talking as if every band had that. They don't."
"Well, I'm sure the Beatles didn't have some salesman standing over their
shoulders saying "Hey, write `Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.' "
"You must imagine that they lived with alot of pressure, though. And you
certainly can imagine -- well, it's a lot of speculation involved, but I think
it's safe to say that Paul McCartney does not have a lot of artistic
integrity."
"Possibly. But on the other hand , there's no question that Paul McCartney is a
very talented person. He uses that talent in a certain way."
"He's a prostitute."
"Strong words. Very strong words."
"Not to me," said Peart. "I don't think a prostitute's an evil thing."
Nor do I. And -- again, there's a lot of speculation involved here, too -- I
think it's safe to say that Paul McCartney cannot only play the bass better
than Geddy Lee (I won't mention the vocals), but that he can also play guitar
better than Alex Lifeson, play drums better than Neil Peart, and write about
80,000 times better than Rush and the National Hockey League put together. I
mean, if you think "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and "Someone's Knocking" were
outright drivel, I invite you to listen the "The Temples of Syrinx" or "Cygnus
X-1 Book II" by Neil & Co.
Besides, McCartney's rich.
Well, well, well. Where does Peart get all these crazy ideas, anyway? Now, I
can't say for sure -- but I asked him about their ubiquitous logo (you know,
the really cool manandstar) and he said: "All it means is the abstract man
against the mass. The red star symbolizes any collectivist mentality."
And now, to quote Ayn Rand (For the New Intellectual): "(The Fountainhead) was
published in 1943. Its theme is: individualism versus collectivism (my
italics). The story presents the career of Howard Roark, an architect and
innovator, who breaks with tradition, recognizes no authority but his own,"
etc. ad nauseum.
Not that we weren't tipped off early on, when -- while talking about writers --
Norton said: "What about Ayn Rand."
"What about her?" said Peart.
Well, we asked some really clever questions that are known only to select rock
critics (i.e. "Do you read her?" "Do you like her?"), when M.J. asked about
Howard Roark. "Would you identify with someone like Howard Roark?" asked my
jaded cynical comrade.
"Certainly," said Peart, adding the inevitable tic-laughter.
"He was a motherfucker, he really was," said the always-slow-to-
express-himself Norton. "He did what he wanted to...he was shunned by society.
Why don't you write an album about him? Howard Roark... all the Howard Roarks
there are in the world..."
"I think I have," Peart said, "I think everything I do has Howard Roark in it,
you know, as much as anything. The person I write for is Howard Roark."
I don't want to add that many people consider Ayn Rand to be prima facie
fascist, but I will anyway. Later I tried to pin Peart down on his feelings
toward the right wing. "I have as many quarrels toward the right wing, you
know. I can't stand the whole concept of law-and-order and authority and
everything, which is obviously the precept of right-wingism and you know it as
well as I do. If you don't, you can take it to the bank."
And no problem with the bank, eh? "It is a life that no amount of money can
ever compensate for," the suffering drummer told me. "That's why I could never,
ever feel guilty about the dollar I earn." You and McCartney, pal; you and
McCartney.
Saturday/The Second Interview: Dead tired, I went back to Cobo early the next
evening to talk with Alex Lifeson, Rush's guitarist. Possibly the only homo
sapien in the group, Lifeson -- who looked as beat as I felt -- donned a
nondescript blue ski jacket and mittens as we adjourned to a very cold back
room somewhere in the Cobo maze.
After Peart, anything short of William Shockley would be anticlimactic, but
Lifeson did his best to fulfill the interview obligation. He gave me his
opinion of the previous night's show ("...weird..this audience is really a
fired-up crowd; really a lot of pushing and shoving"), success ("For us,
everything has been a gradual climb"), and his general dissatisfaction with
performing ("It loses a specialness... certainly, for me when we started out it
was really exciting, but I can't say that I feel the same anymore.")
Lifeson was flat, bored, and probably distracted as well. He offered none of
the Peart hard-line, showing regret over missing his kid's birthday ("again")
and enthusiasm over professional hockey. In other words, he seemed to be a
normal person. Much more at ease than Peart (Example: I asked them both why
they don't put their pictures on their album covers. "We're not selling
ourselves," said Peart. "Well, their inside the album," said Lifeson), the
guitarist seemed to be -- and this is only my impression -- looking for
something interesting to do with his spare time. He told me taht he builds
models and has taking up flying to occupy himself.
"I'm nobody special; it's no big deal," he said. "I don't think a lot of people
want to see it that way, really." Believe me, this guy takes some sort of
Normal Pills. He did let me in on the Rush songwriting m.o., which I must is a
seeming puzzler.
"Neil will bring down a draft of lyrics...and (Geddy and I) will sit down
together and take it from there." Jeez, I thought I felt sorry for him
before...
Saturday/The Denouement: I left Cobo with a backstage pass, having no intention
of sitting through another Rush extravaganza. Throwing critical caution to the
winds, I whipped my car to the front of the arena and looked for the youngest,
most fresh-faced Rush fan I could find. Two guys and two girls -- surely no
more than 17 -- came by.
"Are you two guys relly big Rush fans?" I asked.
"Jesus, yes."
"OK...here's a genuine, honest-to-God backstage pass that will allow you to go
behind the scenes," I said, dangling the sticky square. "Just slap it on your
leg and they shouldn't hassle you."
One kid got down on his knees. "What do I have to do?"
Throwing him the pass, I just said good luck.
Saturday/Postscript: I would like to thank everyone who helped make this story
possible, in particular: Sherry Ring, Neil Peart, Alex Lifeson, and Mark
Norton.
Not to forget Geddy Lee, of course. I really enjoyed not talking to you. In
fact, I can't remember enjoying not talking to anyone as much as I enjoyed not
talking to you. Let's not talk again real soon, OK?
Jon Rawlinson
Jon
Damon Scott Hynes
and Iggy Pop. Kordosh could not write objectively, he either had an agenda
going in or he was in suck-up mode.
The Marny Stanier Appreciation Society
Damon...@earthlink.com , Midlands Chapter President
"When it didn't whistle for the station, I knew we were in trouble."
OTIS wrote in message <7og6o3$lff$0...@dosa.alt.net>...
Matt Rose
I can't even believe this guy is allowed to even call himself a writer; I've
never read a more unprofessional interview in my life.
Fuck you asshole.
Frans Jonkers
Why does everybody react so hostile towards it?
Can't face it that someone writes about Rush in a negative way?
The interviewer (you know, that jerk) has a right to his opinion, no matter
how unfounded or how different from yours. And when he writes it down this
way, I can laugh about it as well.
Frans
Matthew D. Sullivan
It was sort of amusing, I agree, but you must admit it was a pretty
poorly-written story and an entirely unprofessional interview.
There's nothing sadder than a rock critic that has a bigger ego than
most rock stars.
-Matt S.
The Professor
>It was sort of amusing, I agree, but you must admit it was a pretty
>poorly-written story and an entirely unprofessional interview.
>There's nothing sadder than a rock critic that has a bigger ego than
>most rock stars.
The following is NOT aimed at Matt. :)
Folks, this is not "rock criticism" or "rock journalism," it's CREEM magazine
for God's sake! They are out there to sell magazines (or were anyway :) ) to
rock-snob wannabes. Of course the guy doesn't deserve to be taken seriously,
but then that was never his point. There are plenty of serious books/articles
about rock that treat Rush just dandy, and even the critical ones are far more
serious than this stuff.
This is like a movie star's fans complaining about the way the National
Inquirer treats him.
Plus, who got the last laugh here? Anyone care to speculate what the author is
doing today while Rush rakes in the awards, fan loyalty, peer acknowledgment
and mega-bucks? :)
The Professor (Frans is right. Let's all lighten up.)
keb
>Plus, who got the last laugh here? Anyone care to speculate what the author is
>doing today while Rush rakes in the awards, fan loyalty, peer acknowledgment
>and mega-bucks? :)
>
>The Professor (Frans is right. Let's all lighten up.)
I was bored enough to do a little research, and the most I could find is that
he had hosted an online chat with...Great White. =)
keb.
JimmerG007
shallow-minded rock critic off!!! I was just playing around on the site and
found that interview, and remember the Doug Maher post where Doug claimed that
that comment was said by Neil...and wow it was true.
James MacLachlan
JimmerG007 <jimme...@aol.com> wrote in message
news:19990807113609...@ng-ca1.aol.com...
I think the Prof is right....can't really take this kind of "gunk"
journalism seriously.
It's "reactionism", at it's...if I should really use this word...best.
Neil had VERY much attempted to be as level-headed as possible...but
this idiot just seemed to love pulling at the strings. After ALL of
these years of going through that...I am surprised the guys still EVEN
DO interviews. Just one last comment....I am sure the guy's don't have a
massive "hate" for the Stones or Beattles....they have all mentioned
them as being influences VERY early on. But the two important
points...the integrity of the musicians...and the fact that any
intellignet person KNOWS Mcartney was and IS NOTHING without John
Lennon...even though I was never even really fond of his music. Also..I
like Neil's comments that as much as everybody believes he is some
"pseudo capitalist fascist", he comes right out and explains his disgust
with the right wing as much as the left. I really don't think you can
get more honest then that.
James
Nyarla...@hotmail.com
jimme...@aol.com (JimmerG007) wrote:
> I was just playing around on the
>site and
> found that interview, and remember the Doug Maher post where Doug
claimed that
> that comment was said by Neil...and wow it was true.
I don't think anyone doubted that the statement re: Neil was
_true_. It's the _relevance_ of the quotation (in view of the context,
i.e., Tapehead's parody) that struck people as dubious.
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Share what you know. Learn what you don't.
SoumenT
don't agree with Kordosh's comment that Neil takes himself very seriously.
I've read interviews where he said things to the effect of, " I'm very much
aware of my flaws" (referring to his drumming). He also considers himself a
student of percussion rather than a master. In his big band playing, he's
been modest in talking about his own performances, especially when compared to
masters of Jazz. The Kordosh "interview" was by far the worst, most
ridiculous thing I've read about Neil & Rush or ANY band for that matter. I
don't remember a single intelligent comment made by Kordosh in the entire
article... it was almost as if he was proving his own ignorance about the
band... lol, this genius thought Moving Pictures was a "pompous bore", a
phrase much more descrptive of his article.
I don't think I"ve ever seen an interviewer come off sounding like as much of a
jackass as he did here....
Robert & Christine
AMEN. Preach on brotha!
Can I get a w i t n e s s !?!??