I've spent too much time watching YouTube footage of Rush's return to the stage at the Kia Forum in Los Angeles. As a long-term fan – one of my first live shows was on the Signals tour in May 1983, at Wembley Arena in London – it was always going to be an emotional watch. What surprised me was just how emotional it was.
The footage I've been most fascinated by frames the stage side-on, shot from the kind of seats that sell last because the view isn't the best.
"Side views kind of suck," says YouTuber Tapehead2, the man responsible. "I was actually behind Alex – so I decided to go all in on an Anika cam. She absolutely killed it!"
Mike Portnoy, a man frequently touted to fill Neil Peart's spot behind the kit, agrees. "Anika absolutely killed it in the best way imaginable," he wrote on Instagram. "I was so happy for her…nailing all of the big Neil moments with a giant smile on her face the whole time! She really is the perfect choice for this!"
There are two bits of footage I've watched again and again. The first comes during the opening Xanadu, when Nilles fumbles a stick while performing one of Peart's signature rolls around the toms. It's a terrifying moment.
Imagine. You're replacing the irreplacable. There's no way you aren't feeling the pressure. It's the first song of the first show. Barely 90 seconds in. And one of your sticks clatters into the woodwork.
"In the past, I actually had a big issue with stage fright, and I worked on it a lot," Nilles told Classic Rock earlier this year. "I’ve developed enough techniques and tools that I can rely on. And if the nerves really start to take over, I definitely know how to counteract that."
Nilles recovers in milliseconds, snapping her left hand forward to catch the errant stick without losing her place in the song. If Geddy Lee, who's standing metres away, notices anything awry, he doesn't let on. It's a swift return to business as usual, perfection snatched from the teeth of catastrophe.
The second moment comes from the set closer, Tom Sawyer, more than two hours later. Alongside YYZ, it's probably the Rush song most closely associated with Neil Peart. It's the song Portnoy calls "the greatest air drumming song of all time." Of course, I'm talking about the bit that follows Alex Lifeson's solo. That thunderous cascade around the toms. Those triplets. The flams. The genius. It's the kind of thing that shouldn't be messed with. And Nilles doesn't.
Another angle, shot from the more expensive seats, shows something else: Nilles' face, and the smile that arrives as she completes those iconic fills and realises she’s nailed the assignment. She finishes, and an enormous roar goes up. It's a moment of genuine triumph. And, it appears, there isn't a dry eye left in the house.
It's not hard to diagnose the emotion. Part of it's the space left by the missing man. Part of it's the thrill of seeing Anika Nilles filling that space so comprehensively. Part of it's the love in the room for these musicians, palpable even via shaky, occasionally unfocused footage.
But most of it's something else: the simple joy of watching Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson back onstage. Having so much fun. Playing those crazy, complicated, heroic songs, with a drummer they clearly trust and adore.
Welcome to Rush, Anika Nilles.
The embedded videos below are cued up to the moments mentioned above.
