The line I hear most often about the unexpected passing of Neil Peart is, “Man, this one really hurts.” And that’s right – it does really hurt. Losing an icon affects those of us in the music industry differently, and, of course, for different reasons. But I believe those that are most devastated by the unexpected loss of Neil Peart are his ardent fans: those fans that attended dozens of Rush concerts and drummers who took an interest in learning to play drums because of Peart’s magic.
I have to say, Neil’s fans were different. To Peart fans, Neil was more than a drummer and lyricist; he was a superhero. I’m truly surprised he never had his own TV series, because he made Spiderman look like a sissy. I am not just talking about his drumming – I’m talking about his persona. He was much larger than life – certainly his drum kit was. The first word that comes to mind is “gargantuan!”
But, just to say Peart was larger than life doesn’t do him true justice. So, let me share some backstories to shed light on what I mean. Personally, I always felt like I owed Neil a debt of gratitude for several reasons. I was lucky because I was deeply entrenched teaching drums when Neil and Rush were in their heyday. Neil, along with Alex Van Halen and Steve Gadd, kept my schedule full, and when I say full, I mean on average 90 students a week.
Students realized I could break down the “Peart Book” and make learning it accessible. And once one or two hotshots started playing the songs better than guys that weren’t studying with me, the phone never stopped ringing. It was like the gift that kept on giving. To this day, I am still in touch with many of those students and I can confirm that their love for drumming was genuinely fueled by the strong influence of Neil Peart.
The true impact of Neil’s influence was best displayed when I had my house appraised.
It was a crisp, fall day and I tried to ready myself for the appraiser to arrive to appraise the value of my house. I think it’s fair to say an appraiser makes you nervous because he can control your fate to some degree. The appraiser arrived around a half an hour late, and because he was running late, he was in a notably foul mood. When I greeted him, he gave no credence to the fact that I was cordial. He wanted to be in and out, and on his way to his next appraisal. I continued to attempt to make small talk, but he would just give a grunt or a moan. There was no interaction whatsoever.
Finally, I realized I would be better served if I just gave the appraiser his space, and privacy to conduct his work. I reached the conclusion that I simply had to let the chips fall where they may. As I sat reading and waiting, Neil Peart was working his magic, and I didn’t even know it.
Two years before, I had been teaching a high-profile Washington, D.C. chef. Trust me, this was no ordinary chef. He was, and still is, a magnificent chef in the region and one with strong connections. Chef Beckel had been bugging me for a while to see Rush with him, but the opportunity never seemed to align. Then one day out of the blue, he contacted me to say, “Mark your calendar” because we are going together to see Rush, and THAT’S THAT!”
What I didn’t know was that the chef had gotten backstage passes for us, along with third row center seats. A short bit after we arrived, he said, “Ok, we have something we need to do. Follow me.” When we got to the stage area, he approached security and – bingo, we were escorted backstage. As I looked up, I could see Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson standing next to a photographer. We were the only ones backstage. Neil didn’t do “meet and greets” on this tour, or in general – so, no Neil.
But to my surprise, I would find out Neil did one very cool thing. He had signed a snare drum head and all three members of Rush had signed the full-size Vaper Trails poster. At the chef’s next lesson, he presented me with a huge frame that encompassed the signed drumhead and the signed poster, along with the photo taken by the photographer at the show. Nice, right?
Naturally, I hung this masterpiece in my office, and when the appraiser saw it, he lost his mind. He apparently was a huge Neil fan. That autographed poster changed the entire way the appraiser looked at everything. His mood instantly changed – I was now his best friend. He took out his phone and took a picture of the picture, to show his friends, and now this appraiser viewed my house with a completely different frame of mind.
The appraisal came in very strong, and I truly believe I have Neil and the boys in Rush to thank for that. Crazy, right? But that’s the influence Neil had on people.
I’m not sure about you, but I miss the days of big heroes. I miss the days of arguing over which superhero was the coolest. No matter where you stand on Neil, this much is for sure: when Rush and Neil were rockin’, so was my drum studio, and the evaluation on my house as well.
R.I.P. Neil Peart! You will be missed.
