According to drummer and lyricist Neil Peart, Rush’s latest album “offers some monkey business, spirituality, lover’s quarrels with the world, raw sophistication, dysentery dreams, malignant narcissism, the spirit of the 60s, and the Tao of Booujze”. As usual, ‘The Professor’ sounds like he’s swallowed a dictionary, something that’s reinforced by the verbose lyrics to Snakes & Arrows, the Canadians’ 18th studio album and first full-length effort since 2002’s Vapor Trails.
That said, Snakes… contains some of Peart’s most human(e) lyrics, primarily focusing on the positive and (mostly) negative effects of religion, and the need for individual faith. Independence and independent thought has guided Rush’s career, as this album, which conforms to no one’s demands or expectations but their own, continually demonstrates. Clearly pleasing themselves, the trio throw in everything including the kitchen sink (Alex Lifeson’s acoustic guitar gets its heaviest outing in decades, and there’s even a Mellotron on the excellent ‘Faithless’), as well as caution to the wind during jams that occasionally verge on space rock. The production, courtesy of former Foo Fighters studio helmer Nick Raskulinecz, is razor-sharp and a vast improvement on its fuzzy predecessor. A definite return to form and just reward for those that kept faith with this fascinating act.
