Our friends over at MusicRadar have put together a track by track for RUSH‘s upcoming album ‘Clockwork Angels‘ and we decided to take the opening sentence to each track description to give you a flavour of what they thought about the album – check out excerpts from that article below:
A train signal, a dark and descending bassline and some ominous orchestration… Suddenly, blam! – Rush explode into a tough, feisty rocker driven by Alex Lifeson’s gritty guitar riff.
Whereas the single version of BU2B that was released last year kicked down the barn door without warning, now it begins with lightly strummed acoustics. The main riff is just as smashing, however, a growling, grinding earth-mover over which Lee sings, “I was brought up to believe the universe has a plan/ we are only human, it’s not ours to understand.”
Stephen Colbert once joked with Rush by asking, “Have you ever written a song so epic that by the end of the song you were actually being influenced by yourself in the beginning of the song?” Which could indeed be the case with this mini classic that works as a self-contained rock opera.
A sprightly, snaggle-toothed guitar riff leads to a boisterous rocker in which Lee, Lifeson and Peart tumble over one another with calisthenic agility.
Sweet and soul, rude and inviting – this phantasmagoric pounder is fascinating in how everything seems effortlessly, inexplicably right. It also features probably the meanest riff that Alex Lifeson has ever played – on record at least – one which dovetails seamlessly into a brutal mass of a verse.
Can you possibly tell that a song is destined to become a classic the first time you hear it? Possibly – and if, for some reason, Halo Effect doesn’t make it into the pantheon of all-time Rush greats, it’ll come damn close.
SEVEN CITIES OF GOLD
Lifeson’s guitar breathes fire straight off – his first riff is Hendrixian in spirit – with Lee and Peart catching up for this devilish workout, underpinned by urgent keyboards and Lee’s dark-toned vocals.
A big, brash British power chord opening, evoking so many things Who and Kinks, lights up this one-of-a-kind winner.
Calling any one song a tour de force on an album this bountiful is difficult, but this seven-minute monster oozes with virtuosic zeal and stirring lyricism. Lee kicks it all off with a spacey bass figure, which morphs into a full-throttle, all-hands-on-deck assault that builds in intensity.
Not an actual song per se, but a haunting segue built on cellos and acoustic guitars, with Lee’s minimalist vocal evoking a moonlit gospel meeting.
WISH THEM WELL
A blissed-out romp that starts with a fake-out: Are those white-hot guitars or a cranked-up Hammond organ over Peart’s ramrod drums? Hard to tell, but it’s a magical combo.
A pastoral delight that comes over you like a daydream. Graceful and buoyant acoustics, tasteful orchestration, and Lee singing in a simple, unaffected style make up the bedrock of The Garden.