Rush's comeback shines with Anika Nilles' brilliance

INGLEWOOD, CA – The care Rush put into its Fifty Something Tour was evident from the moment the lights dropped and a slick video depicting a haunted retirement home blanketed the screens surrounding the stage.

The several-minute-long film was packed with if-you-know-you-know moments for Rush fans, including bassist/singer Geddy Lee disguised as a sausage vendor, guitarist Alex Lifeson as a military guard with doughnuts, and a pair of “absurdly prophetic” white robes that gave the pair a fountain-of-youth effect.

There was also a goofy cameo from Paul Rudd and Jason Segel (see: “I Love You, Man”) and a pair of animated blunt-smoking birds.

As the screen rose to reveal Lee and Lifeson standing in cascades of dry ice and the first notes of 1977’s “Xanadu” emanated from the stage, grown men in the audience nearly wept at the sight of their heroes and the sound of a song that has never before opened a Rush concert.

At the Kia Forum June 7 – the first of four sold-out shows at the Los Angeles-area venue – Rush achieved a most unlikely resurrection and unveiled a superstar in the process.

Their Fifty Something Tour is not only their first since drumming wizard Neil Peart died in 2020, but it is also their first tour in any form since 2015.

“You. Are. So. Beautiful,” Lee said to the crowd early in the show, gazing around the arena with a hint of disbelief at the rapturous response.

After instant sellouts in the first seven cities announced, Rush added 17 more markets for a total of 58 dates that will span the United States and Mexico before wrapping in their native Canada in December. (A run of European shows begins in January.)

For nearly three hours, including a 25-minute intermission, Lee and Lifeson fronted 24 songs that, as promised by the nature of an anniversary tour, bounced from classic rock radio fare (“Limelight,” “The Spirit of Radio”) to rarified album tracks (“Red Sector A,” “By-Tor and the Snow Dog”).

The band even brought out Aimee Mann, who sings on the recorded version of “Time Stand Still,” to add a smear of honeyed vocals to the chorus.

Lee, 72, has maintained his trademark shoulder-length brown hair and tinted glasses and bounced between nimble bass playing and a bank of synthesizers. (Journeyman Loren Gold also played keyboards throughout.)

Lee's voice has always been Sui generis, a distinctive instrument caught between a whine and a yelp yet immediately recognizable. He landed the high notes with varying degrees of success throughout the show, hitting the mark on “Freewill” but sounding strained during “The Spirit of Radio.”

Meanwhile Lifeson, he of droll wit and also 72, tossed out razor-sharp riffs on “Freewill” and circular guitar notes on “The Spirit of Radio” with undiminished flexibility.

But let us pause a moment to recognize the greatness joining Rush’s founding fathers – the absurdly talented Anika Nilles.

It is an unenviable challenge to replace one of the most respected and beloved drummers in rock history.

But if fire could be packaged, it would be Nilles. From her first cymbal crash, the German powerhouse, 43, received a roar of approval from discerning fans.

Not only did Rush find a drummer worthy of succeeding Peart so the band could perform live again, but they chose a musician who is a phenomenon on her playground of percussion.

Peart’s unusual – but iconic – drum fills and tempo changes are perhaps the most complicated in the rock ‘n’ roll canon. Nilles proved herself both fierce and precise behind the kit, unpacking every nuance of Peart’s playing, from her fluid waves of tom-tom fills to her snappy hi-hat work.

The maestro was recognized several times during the show, including a video homage throughout the melodic “Bravado,” with vintage footage of Peart playing on the screen behind Nilles and again after the infrequently played “Natural Science.”

Nilles’ synchronicity with Lee and Lifeson was most evident on the three-part “2112” that ushered the band back from intermission. It was a blistering master class in musicianship that must be respected regardless of your feelings about Rush’s winding prog-rock.

But this crowd − predominantly middle-aged and male − had nothing but unmitigated adoration for Rush’s music and appreciation for the opportunity to experience it live again. Strangers slapped hands and bonded in their bliss, whether during the guitar solo in “Red Barchetta” or while mutually expressing awe at Nilles’ extraordinary playing.

For these fans, having Rush back onstage is like every holiday rolled into one.

The throwback elements of Rush’s show – the zigzagging colored lasers, the bursts of pyro that momentarily stunned with their booms, the gratification of watching musicians so focused on their music that running around the stage was not an option – reminded of a simpler era of concert-going.

That said, Rush – especially with Nilles anchoring their sound – is nowhere near ready for that retirement home.