VAPOR TRAILS

Hard-hitting and extremely personal, this is perhaps the deepest thing Rush ever did, considering the anguish of their lyricist and beloved drummer. This album represents the resilience of a man who picked himself up, brushed himself off, and moved on with his life after a year horrific calamities. There are no keyboards, and this is an album almost bereft of guitar solos, which might be something of a problem for even some of the most stalwart Rush fans, but I find that having Alex Lifeson in a far more supportive role shows a more restrained and yet powerful side to him. The biggest gripe for most Rush fans is the almost constant clipping due to distortion and too much compression, and for the most part, I agree that this can prove to be obstacle, but it in no way diminishes my attitude toward the album- it exists, in my opinion, as the heaviest Rush album ever made, and yet each composition is in itself a masterpiece or almost one.

"One Little Victory" What an apt title for what, in essence, is a merciless comeback! Appropriately enough, the album begins with the thunder and "Life-is-a-bitch-but-I-am-moving-forward-anyway" drumming of maestro Neil Peart. This, in my humble opinion, is ultimately his album. Alex Lifeson, as a reliable friend, steps beside him with a gritty and harsh guitar riff. Geddy Lee's bass chugs along as only he can make it do, it seems. Once again, Canada's best band is back together, putting another notch in their belts, and demonstrating that it's perfectly fine to fall on one's face, so as long as one gets up and doesn't give up. Hardiness is the theme here, and the music of the opening track reflects that perfectly. Celebrate the moment indeed.

"Ceiling Unlimited" The band asserts itself as a true power trio, with a mighty progression on the electric guitar, trebly punches from the bass, and impeccable drumming. The lyrics are a tad on the esoteric side, something unusual for Peart, but I suspect this song holds a deep, personal meaning no one can penetrate.

"Ghost Rider" A bittersweet yet picturesque description of Peart's travels across North America by motorcycle after the unimaginable tragedy of losing both his wife and daughter in the same year (the former to disease, the latter to an automotive crash), this is one man's new "anthem" of optimism and endurance in the face of "shadows on the road behind" and "shadows on the road ahead." The various sections of this song flow perfectly and include a powerful, yet hardly noticeable key change.

"Peaceable Kingdom" After some strange vocal effects in the introduction, the band plays this heavy handed song with deep conviction and hope. A bass lead by Lee ushers in the lighter chorus. If there is one song that suffers from the clipping issue the most, it's this one. Lifeson's guitar is grating, but that almost serves to differentiate between the pessimism of the verses and the optimism of the refrain.

"The Stars Look Down" Although I love virtually every song on this album, this is in my top three for this album. Again, the band juxtaposes loud, clipping verses with gentler choruses. A ghostly twelve-string guitar is prominent in certain parts. The words are particularly of note, as they not only relate to the 1935 novel by A.J. Cronin, but speak of man's inability to understand the reason behind the various things he experiences, particularly painful times.

"How It Is" Using the structure of the previous two songs, this is a more upbeat song, with a fast rhythm and uplifting lyrics, which describe the resignation that how things are and how one expects them to be will almost certainly always be different, and yet that doesn't mean one has to resign oneself to gloom. The twelve-string guitar is again prominent, and this tends to the closest thing to acoustic music on this album, which of course is saying practically nothing.

"Vapor Trail" The title track takes the opposite route structurally. This time, there are quieter verses, and then Lifeson jumps in with an out-of-place bunch of crunchy guitar chords for the chorus. While initially such a transition would sound ridiculous, after just a few verses, it sounds perfectly natural. The vocal melodies to this one are outstanding.

"Secret Touch" A merry opening riff serves as the basis for the verses, while a heavy minor 6th chord crashes through to bring in the chorus, which features some of the Professor's most brilliant lyrics, including a line I'm sure he knows all too well to be the God's honest truth: "There is never love without pain." I myself (a Christian) impose my own interpretation on the lyrics, which I am usually not wont to do, particularly on the line, "A gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart."

"Earthshine" Were I to choose a favorite song from the album, this is it, as I cannot help but crank up the volume when I hear that ripping, opening riff from Lifeson. The waltz-like segment that unites verse and chorus is brilliant, adding a subtly played acoustic guitar. Lee's bass work is especially remarkable in the way he maintains the low end but creates some spectacular chugging in the higher register. There is a rare guitar solo on this song, rising in faintly and finely played- the economy of a true master. The lyrics describe an astronomical phenomenon (a more specific form of planetshine) during which the Earth bounces the sun's light to the moon, which in turn reflects it right back at us. The line, "pale facsimile like what others see when they look in my direction" is especially poetic, drawing upon this heavenly occurrence as a metaphor: People may read our words or see us act, but what they are seeing is likely a vague impression of what we really are.

"Sweet Miracle" I love the powerful introduction first of all, and the lyrics reel me in: As a Christian who generally believes God works scientifically, the words resonate with me and remind us all that life itself is a sweet miracle, even if does include some pretty low valleys. Lee's bass is the foundation for that epiphany of a third verse, and his harmonies are exquisite.

"Nocturne" Here's a powerful and somewhat mystical song. A frenetic, spiraling, wild ride transfers the listener from the verse to the refrain, as Lee's untamed crying out ushering him through like a deranged Charon into the hypnotic yet nightmarish otherworld. Dreams are a temporary madness, even those we have while awake.

"Freeze (Part IV of Fear)" Gouging bass and grating guitar begin part four of the trilogy. That chorus is a remarkable place in what is probably one of the most progressive pieces on this record. It is loaded with different musical passages, mostly heavy-hitting and loud, however, and the words, which don't exactly mesh with the previous three parts, describe mankind's fight-or-flight response to fear.

"Out Of The Cradle" A nice rocker to finish up a fine album, this one, like it's brothers, boasts strong lyrics and amazingly tight playing. Yes, for those with the music in their hearts, they come "out of the cradle, endlessly rocking." Rock on.