Rush makes birthday No. 30 something

Spencer Patterson

Monday, July 19, 2004 | 8:06 a.m.

Not much chance that souvenir actually winds up on a wall.

The battered rolled-up tube experienced every moment of Rush's monster three-hour, 20-minute 30th anniversary celebration in the hands of its indefatigable owner.

For much of the show, the poster served as a giant drumstick, bashing out beats laid down by incomparable skins man Neil Peart.

Frequently, the poster doubled as a guitar neck, aiding in air-guitar accompaniment to Alex Lifeson's turbo-charged solos.

And from time to time, the poster found itself speared toward the roof, marking an especially sky-scraping high note from the mouth of vocalist Geddy Lee.

At most Las Vegas concerts, such a showing of fanaticism would have stood out, likely attracting as much attention as the events onstage.

On Saturday it was a fairly average display.

Judging from the many "What's Rush?" inquiries coming from casino crowd onlookers along the way in, most of the world at large probably couldn't name a single song by the Canadian power trio.

The band's loyalists, however, are convinced Rush is -- and has always been -- rock's most consistently great live act. Better than the Who, the Stones, Springsteen, you name it.

It would be hard for me to mount much of an argument. I've seen Rush a handful of times over the past 15 years, and they've never left me flat. Not even close.

Saturday night was no exception. Now in their 50s, Lee, Lifeson and Peart appeared as energetic as ever on the final night (show No. 27) of the first of two North American summer tour legs.

The shaggy-haired Lee grinned and bounced playfully on one leg in a "Girls Gone Wild" T-shirt, alternating between playing bass and keyboard.

The hulking Lifeson scrunched up his eyebrows as he shredded, and performed a hilarious "Pirate Blues" rant midway through his signature tune, "La Villa Strangiato."

And the ultra-serious Peart, widely considered the greatest living rock 'n' roll drummer, even flashed a couple of smiles at his mates while effortlessly negotiating his way around a massive drum kit.

Most importantly, the three lived up to their reputation for sounding as super-tight in concert as they do on album, no easy task given the intricacies of many Rush compositions.

The set list sampled from all but one of Rush's 17 full-length studio discs, with 1989's "Presto" the lone exception.

Among the many highlights: a fair chunk of 1976's thunderous, side-long "2112," a crisp version of 1981's "Red Barchetta" (a tune notably omitted when the band passed through town in 2002) and an opening instrumental medley featuring bits of six 1970s Rush classics.

The sold-out crowd of 9,200 stood throughout, save for a 20-minute intermission and a two-song acoustic bit midway through the second set.

Recent material, such as 2002's "Earthshine," drew nearly as loud a roar as FM hits "Tom Sawyer" and "The Spirit of Radio."

And when Rush reached back for obscure 1984 cut "Between the Wheels" -- a song Lee said the band "somehow forgot all these years" -- more than a few fans sang along with every word.

New to the 2004 tour were four cover songs that appear on the trio's latest release, last month's "Feedback" EP.

Two, the Who's "The Seeker" and Robert Johnson's blues standard "Crossroads," offered an earthy change of pace while sounding at home among the band's original material.

Less successful were a take on Jerry Capehart and Eddie Cochran's "Summertime Blues" and an acoustic stab at the Yardbirds' "Heart Full of Soul." The former lacked the punch of the Who's famous rendition, while the latter forced Lee into a strange falsetto beyond even his considerable upper register.

Lee's voice also faltered a bit as the show progressed, a foreseeable result of performing marathon shows on back-to-back nights.

If they noticed, Rush's loyal fans certainly didn't seem to mind. And by the end of the night our row had new contenders for the title of most enthusiastic: a father and son combo.

The father was an air guitar god from way back, with facial expressions to match his intense fingering. The young son, likely at his first rock concert, seemed to prefer air drumming, keeping up even with Peart's second-set drum showcase.

Next time, buy that kid a poster.