Drumming News :
Earlier this month, writer Paul Elliott revisited a 2012 interview conducted by Classic Rock, a sister publication of MusicRadar, with legendary drummer and lyricist Neil Peart. In the later years of his life, Peart granted very few interviews, making this in-depth conversation a rare and valuable insight for fans. The piece explores his writing process, lyrical themes, personal philosophy, and more—offering a thoughtful glimpse into the mind of one of rock’s most revered figures.
Below Is an excerpt of that interview:
Elliot: Growing up in rural Canada, you began playing drums as a teenager. How did music change you as a person?
Peart: I was very academic until I discovered drums. Then I was a monomaniac about drumming. I was physically awkward. My ankles were weak, so I couldn’t play any sports. I couldn’t skate and I couldn’t play hockey, which in Canada is like football is in the UK. And that makes you a pariah as a boy.
Elliot: You wrote about that aspect of teenage life in the Rush song Subdivisions – the pressure to ‘be cool or be cast out’. Was that song autobiographical?
Peart: Extremely! How we turn out as adults has a lot to do with the way others saw us in high school. Consider yourself as a teenager – whether you were treated as a geek, or as a scholar, or a jock, or a good-looking Lothario or whatever. However you were treated by others has a lot to do with how you turn out.
Elliot: Would you describe yourself as an introvert?
Peart: Yes. And extroverts don’t ever understand introverts. You know that from your school days. Shy people were seen as stuck up. They were seen as conceited because they kept to themselves.
Elliot: That was a subject you addressed in the 1981 song Limelight: ‘I can’t pretend a stranger is a long-awaited friend.’ Are you still the same person who wrote that lyric?
Peart: Entirely so. And, honesty, I’ve never had to retract it. My ability to express myself has grown and evolved over the years. And when I listen to early songs, I might cringe technically, but never psychologically or emotionally. I still mean every word of Limelight, however crudely it might have been expressed.
Elliot: What kind of encounter makes you feel uncomfortable?
Peart: If you meet someone at the launderette and they go: “Oh, this is the greatest moment of my life!” I like the motto: ‘never complain, never explain’. But I can never resist trying to explain.
Elliot: There are echoes of Pink Floyd’s The Wall in Limelight. Did that album resonate with you?
Peart: Enormously. I totally understood it. Many years ago a DJ played a track from [Floyd’s] Wish You Were Here, one of the alienation songs that preceded The Wall. And he said: “If you’re a songwriter and you write about what’s near to you, if you become alienated you’re going to write about being alienated.”
Elliot: Is that what fame means to you – alienation?
Peart: Another line from Limelight that grew in resonance over the years is: ‘One must put up barriers to keep oneself intact.’ But there is a corollary that I try to explain. Every day when I’m on tour and travelling between cities on my motorcycle, I have half-a-dozen pleasant encounters with people. I’ve spent a lot of time in truck stops and diners and cafes, very casual, low-grade places, and those are the encounters I have: stranger to stranger, I guess you could say. I love the anonymity of my travels.
Elliot: Touring also keeps you from your family
Peart: Honestly, people don’t realise the sacrifice you make as a touring musician. Being away when children are growing up and when your partner needs you around, it’s wrenching. Your family and friends, their lives continue and you’re not part of them. People don’t place enough value on family life. It’s too easy to get caught up in the tedious day-to-day stuff and miss the miracle that’s unfolding before you.
Elliot: Do you consider touring a necessary evil?
Peart: Some years ago I met a wise man, Elliot Mintz, who was the PR guy for Bob Dylan and John Lennon. I told him I didn’t really like touring but felt that I had to. And he said: “You have to do it because you can.” I thought about that phrase for the longest time. I mentioned it to Geddy {Lee, Rush bassist/vocalist] one night when he was with a friend, and his friend said: “Well, it seems you have a pretty good life.”
I said: “It is a good life, but it has a price.” That’s the reality. I love my job and I love the people that I work with. I am very grateful for that. But I also love my home and family.
Elliot: Do you feel misunderstood?
Peart: I don’t like to puncture illusions. I know I represent some kind of fantasy to a lot of people. But there is no fantasy. There’s a quote that I use: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” Most human life is made up of some mixture of happiness and misery.
Elliot: You were never more misunderstood than in 1977, when the NME portrayed you as a borderline fascist for basing the Rush song 2112 on the work of right-wing philosopher Ayn Rand. How did that affect you?
Peart: I recall that NME interview very well because the conversation was great. And we all felt totally betrayed after, because we had a lovely time with the guy. I remember him being so courteous. It was so amicable. As far as I was concerned, we were just having an intellectual conversation. But these things are wide open to misinterpretation, and that was a classic case.
To read the complete article please visit Music Radar HERE
