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Alex Lifeson (left) and Geddy Lee of Rush performed with the band Friday, June 26, 2026, at Dickies Arena in Fort Worth.<\/p>\n
Jamie B. Ford<\/p>\n
Ever since Rush made its Dallas-Fort Worth debut in 1974 at the long-gone Travis Street Electric Company, the Canadian trio has been largely dude-centric. With their fantasy lyrics and virtuoso musicianship, Rush songs often felt like a secret handshake in some geeky fraternity.<\/p>\n
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The 2009 bromantic comedy I Love You, Man summed it up perfectly: \u201cSeven females at a Rush concert? Must be some kind of a world record.\u201d<\/p>\n
Friday at Dickies Arena, that stereotype came with an ironic twist: German drummer Anika Nilles now powers a band whose audience still could pass for the world’s biggest guys’ night out.<\/p>\n
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Rush’s first tour in 11 years \u2013 and its first without the late Neil Peart \u2013 has emerged as the year’s hottest rock reunion show, filling Dickies Arena for a rare four-night stand. Friday became the stand\u2019s opening night after \u201ctravel and border-related delays\u201d pushed Wednesday’s scheduled opener to July 2.<\/p>\n
The reboot wasn’t flawless, but it proved remarkably true to Rush’s spirit.<\/p>\n
Nilles, who\u2019d previously played with Jeff Beck, filled Peart\u2019s hallowed drum seat admirably, replicating his style without doing an all-out imitation. \u00a0She had no glockenspiel, no tubular bells, no rotating riser. Just breathtaking chops and swagger.<\/p>\n
New keyboardist Loren Gold, a veteran of the Who\u2019s touring band, was relegated to the shadows but played a key role, untethering Geddy Lee from the synthesizers so the bassist could bounce around the stage more than he did on past tours.<\/p>\n
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Lee \u2013 last spotted behind home plate rooting for the Toronto Blue Jays during the World Series \u2013 remains one of rock\u2019s most unique bass players, as he reminded fans with his punchy, rumbling lines in \u201cFreewill\u201d and \u201cRed Barchetta.\u201d His voice was in decent shape, save for the sky-high parts, where it wavered noticeably. He\u2019d be wise to take a cue from Robert Plant and shift to a lower register when needed.<\/p>\n
As always, guitarist Alex Lifeson was razor sharp, combining his trademark velocity and power chords with a deep feel for jazz and funk in tunes like \u201cLa Villa Strangiato.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peart, who died in 2020 of brain cancer, loomed large as well, thanks to a series of tasteful tribute videos and, of course, his lyrics. As Lee pointed out onstage, Peart kept growing as a songwriter, using fantasy as a springboard into politics, love and philosophy, especially in 2012\u2019s \u201cThe Garden,\u201d one of the show\u2019s last songs. The crowd reserved some of its loudest singing for “The Spirit of Radio,” Peart\u2019s love letter to the thrill of the unexpected \u2013 a rare experience in today\u2019s age of Spotify algorithms.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Spirit of Radio” wasn’t a fluke. Rush consistently wrote more radio-friendly songs than most prog-rock bands, and on Friday, shorter earworms like \u201cLimelight\u201d and \u201cTom Sawyer\u201d balanced out epics like the show-opening \u201cXanadu\u201d and various chapters from \u201c2112\u201d that opened the second set.<\/p>\n
And for a band often pigeonholed as intensely cerebral, Rush spent a surprising amount of the night smiling.<\/p>\n
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Lifeson remained the group’s resident wise guy, riffing about the absurdity of sitting around his hotel room for two days. \u00a0Meanwhile, the video screens reinforced Rush’s sly sense of humor, from a bizarre opening clip imagining the band in a Gothic retirement home to goofy interludes featuring the gang from South Park. Behind the kit, Nilles grinned often at her bandmates, looking less like a hired gun than someone thrilled to be part of the ride.<\/p>\n
Most infectious of all was Lee. At 72, he hopped across stage with the energy of someone half his age, punctuating songs with silly dance steps and the unmistakable look of a musician amazed he still gets to do this for a living.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Technical mastery may have built Rush’s legend, but on Friday, its greatest virtuosity was making complex music look so joyous.<\/p>\n
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