Toronto, Night 1: Reflection and Reaffirmation – A Review

(Above: To walk the caves of ice… Photo by James Seney).

By Jeff Miers

What a time to be a Rush fan.

When it was announced, back in October of 2025, that founders Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson would be joining new recruit Anika Nilles for the Fifty Something Tour, a still-burning candle glowed with renewed intensity amongst a fan base that believed the death of drummer/lyricist Neil Peart in 2020 meant the end of the band as a live ensemble, for good.

When tickets for that initial short run of shows sold out in minutes, and a host of multiple-night residencies (and a bevy of European dates) were added, Rush fans exulted once again.

And when the Fifty Something Tour kicked off at the Kia Forum in Los Angeles with a 4-night sold-out run in June, the excitement level amongst the faithful hit a fever pitch.

The band sounded incredible, the reviews were glowing, drummer Nilles was being embraced warmly (and wholly deservedly) by long-serving fans and newcomers alike, and suddenly, social media became a far less horrible universe to visit than we had grown accustomed to in 2026, as Rush in general and Nilles in particular went viral in a way that suggested this band’s return had become the biggest story in rock music for a good, long while.

It had been 11 years since the band’s last tour, and 6 since the tragic passing of Peart. Rush fans had never stopped caring. (We’re not capable of that.) But suddenly, their unwavering belief had been validated on a world-wide scale.

All of this was on my mind as I headed to Toronto on August 7, for the first show of a 4-night run in the band’s native city. (This would be my first show of the Fifty Something Tour, because, well, I’m not rich. I’ll stop there, and leave my thoughts on Ticketmaster and the scam that is the modern-day major concert industry for another time.)

A day previous, Rush had announced that these shows would be filmed and recorded for a possible future release. The buzz was palpable all around the downtown area, and as we (myself and my buddy James, who’d seen some of my earliest Rush shows with me in the Albany area when we were teenagers, including a May 15, 1981 stop on the Moving Pictures tour, at the Glens Falls Civic Center) headed south down Yonge Street from our hotel toward Toronto Harbor and the Scotiabank Arena, it seemed that every other pedestrian on the crowded streets was wearing Rush swag of some sort. (We encountered several Buffalonians amidst the fray, unsurprisingly.)

Surrounding watering holes near the Harbor were full of Rush-heads too, and by 5 pm, a massive line had formed outside Scotiabank Arena in anticipation of the 6:30 pm gate-opening. Even the weather seemed to be in on the momentousness of the event, the rapid mingling of heavy clouds and sudden sunlight creating sporadic “Jacob’s Ladder”- like displays.

Somehow, the lines were still wrapping in serpentine fashion around the venue come 6:30, and yet, we made it to our seats, cold beers in hand, with a few minutes to spare before show-time. Exhale.

As the lights went down, and the highly creative and completely hilarious intro film commenced, a roar worked its way through the capacity crowd, and I felt the significance of Rush returning to Toronto having somehow conquered immense obstacles and immeasurable loss. This already felt like much more than a concert.

A massive, custom-fabricated curtain that also acts as a video screen obscured the band as the opening volume swells of “Xanadu” washed over the arena, and it gradually rose to reveal Lee, Lifeson and Nilles bathed in swirling clouds of dry ice, Ged and Al sporting double-necks, while Anika added tasteful percussive accents atop the drone. As the multi-section epic evolved and built in intensity, we felt the power and majesty of this band in a palpable fashion, a feeling heightened by the fact that the majority of us believed we’d never experience this feeling in real-time again, and judging by their apparent age, there were thousands here who were indeed experiencing it for the first time.

The beautiful bombast was impeccably performed, all three musicians playing at the leading edge of virtuosity, and taking readily apparent joy in their chemistry. And yet, when a major (by Rush standards) ‘eff-up’ took place following verse 2, we were reminded of the dangerous curves these players were navigating in a seemingly effortless manner, of the monumental task Nilles was taking on, and of the joyful attitude of good will at the heart of this tour, exemplified by the way Ged and Al looked at Anika, smiled, and shrugged off the snafu. (“I can get back on,” indeed!) So, right from the get-go, this felt like a genuine, in-the-moment band performance, not a recital of past glories, or some sort of nostalgia-soaked cash-grab.

And then they were off and running, offering a stellar first set highlighted by a searing “Limelight,” a raucous and intense “Far Cry,” an inspired and still somehow futuristic-sounding “Subdivisions,” and an age-defying “Freewill,” featuring a stellar vocal from Geddy and an absolutely giddy prog-funk mid-tune solo section that found all 3 musicians hitting an ensemble peak that sounded simultaneously like Rush-with-Peart, and a brand new band. Unbelievable.

Fifty Something was always going to be equal parts reaffirmation and reflection. The bond between Alex, Geddy and Neil transcended anything exemplified by the conventional rock band model. These three were brothers, and so, the tour was designed to celebrate and pay tribute to the brother who’d fallen. Unsurprisingly, this was handled with dignity and grace throughout the show.

When Neil’s face filled the video screens for the first time during the evening, and his recorded voice – in a quote reflecting the fact that drumming gave him validation and a sense of self as a youth, and that a barometer throughout his career was to “check in” and see what 16-year-old Neil would think of adult Neil – resounded throughout the arena, a hush fell, and fully grown adults (including this one) wept openly, just as Geddy had when reflecting on Neil-the-lyricist while introducing “Freewill.”

The song that followed the audio/video montage, “Bravado,” deepened the emotional tenor of the moment. Exemplifying one of the many things Rush does so well – marrying the harmonic and rhythmic qualities of the music to the thematic properties of the lyrics in a form of “text painting” – the song also boasts one of Peart’s most revealing and deeply moving lyrics. A reflection on existential courage and the meaning of sacrifice, the song posits the notion that loss, suffering and thwarted dreams are the price to be paid for love, dedication to a dream, and the pursuit of something eternal and true. “If love remains, though everything is lost,” the song’s refrain insists, “we will pay the price, but we will not count the cost.” Anyone who knows Neil’s biography – the immeasurable loss of his daughter and wife within a single 18-month period, the rebirth experienced by finding new love and creating a new family, and the subsequent diagnosis of terminal brain cancer – feels this lyric deeply. It was clear that the band felt it, too.

It is rare for a rock concert to operate on the visceral, emotional and intellectual levels simultaneously. This fact is at the core of my abiding love for Rush. And I know I’m not alone.

Set one could’ve ended then and there and we would’ve felt pretty well sated. But of course, it didn’t.

We were gifted the gorgeous onslaught that is “Headlong Flight,” (Anika absolutely crushed it here), and what, for my money – based on You Tube viewings of shows I didn’t attend in person – was the finest, most inspired take on “La Villa Strangiato” yet. “Vital Signs,” the futuristic new wave/reggae/rock hybrid that closes the Moving Pictures album, still sounded futuristic and offered a vivid glimpse of the new ensemble interplay between Geddy, Alex and Anika. (Again, this band sounds like Rush, but it also sounds like a brand new band, which doesn’t seem possible, but clearly is.)

That “new band” feeling was emphasized at several points during the second set – in what one might think of as the least obvious places. “Distant Early Warning,” “Dreamline,” “Time Stand Still” (with guest Aimee Mann!) and “Red Sector A” – pieces that bravely displayed the band’s evolution from progressive hard rock beginnings toward a multi-dimensional sound bearing myriad contemporary influences, at the time of their initial release – seemed to just naturally click for the 2026 edition of Rush, and suggested what might happen should this band write and record new material. (A big ask, for sure, but… well, fingers crossed!)

Of course, second set boasted epics galore, among them the set-opening Overture/Temples of Syrinx/Finale sections of “2112,” a blistering “Red Barchetta,” a face-melting “Natural Science,” and the dazzling-but-playful virtuosity of “YYZ.” And then there was “The Garden,” which has served as an encapsulation of Neil’s thoughts on not only his career, but on his life, as well. The song, when initially released as the final piece on the Clockwork Angels album, was not intended as a formal farewell. Sadly, the passage of time has made it as much. To call this night’s performance of the song poignant only scratches the surface.

Rush being Rush, the thematic heaviness of “The Garden” gave way to full-on joy, with a set-concluding “Tom Sawyer” and the beautifully histrionic paring of “By-tor and the Snow Dog” and “Working Man” in the encore slot.

“Joy” is an important word for Rush in 2026, for it is a feeling shared by the band members and the audience. I’d add gratitude to the mix as well – for what has been, for what is, and for what is potentially to come.

What a time to be a Rush fan.

Rush

Fifty Something Tour

Friday, August 7

Scotiabank Arena, Toronto, ON

Set 1:

Xanadu

Limelight

Far Cry

Subdivisions

Freewill

Bravado (Neil Peart tribute)

Headlong Flight

La Villa Strangiato

Vital Signs

The Spirit of Radio

Set 2:

2112 (Overture, The Temples of Syrinx, Finale)
Distant Early Warning
Red Barchetta
Dreamline
Natural Science
Time Stand Still (Neil Peart tribute)
Red Sector A
YYZ
The Garden
Tom Sawyer (with Lil’ Rush intro)

Encore:

By-tor and the Snow Dog
Working Man

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