Hold Your Fire (1987)

Hold Your Fire (1987)

So begins Rush’s Great Pop Experiment. Having first joined forces with British producer Peter Collins on 1985’s Power Windows, it was clear Lee, Lifeson, and Peart were interested in exploring the more accessible side of their music. Yet even on albums as radical as Signals, Grace Under Pressure, and Power Windows, there was enough of a dynamic edge to them that served as a reminder of their power trio past. However, they were a particularly restless bunch in the 1980s, much more interested in remodeling their sound rather than pandering to fans of their 1970s era. After all, what’s progressive rock without actual progression? The trouble was, in the eyes of some — especially critics with a stodgily rockist point of view — Rush’s musical output from 1987 to 1991 was and continues to be viewed as somewhat of a regression.

Hold Your Fire was the first such album, and remains the best of the three that Rush put out during this period. Unlike the counterbalance of U2/Big Country-derived rock and cutting-edge electronics that made Power Windows so unique, Hold Your Fire is much more streamlined — the difference between the two sides much narrower and less jarring. In other words, meeting right smack in the middle of the road. It was happening all over progressive rock in the 1980s, from Yes to Genesis, and at its best Rush’s album matches the crossover likeability of 90125 and Invisible Touch step for step.

The high points are positively stratospheric, starting with the shimmering single “Time Stand Still.” Featuring a memorable cameo appearance by Aimee Mann, the song contains one of the best hooks the band has ever written, sung charismatically by Lee and featuring playful instrumentation by all three members. The band’s mastery of the pop form is superb as the guitar, bass, and drums accentuate the track rather than dominate, with tremendous restraint shown. The lively pair of “Force Ten” and “Turn The Page” are the closest things to hard rock on the album, its edges buffed to a sheen, while “Prime Mover,” “Lock And Key,” and the ballad “Mission” form a very likeable centerpiece linking sides one and two. There are a few ’80s pop sins committed that stick in the craw to this day — the horn synth stabs in “Force Ten” are unforgivable — but Peart’s lyrics are typically erudite yet personable, the big ’80s optimism of the arrangements and the more introspective lyrical themes coalescing well.

After an incredible run of seven consecutive albums where a foot was rarely if ever put wrong, Hold Your Fire shows serious kinks in the armor. “Second Nature” is a little too slick, its keyboard-drenched arrangement slipping into motivational anthem schlock. Even worse is the egregious “Tai Shan,” an attempt to pay tribute to Chinese classical music but comes off as hollow. The band has since conceded that the track should never have been included on the album.

Despite its slight lack of consistency, Hold Your Fire maintained Rush’s impressive commercial success in the 1980s, hitting the top ten in Canada and the UK, peaking at 13 in America. Four of the album’s better songs would figure prominently on the 1989 live album A Show Of Hands, showing how well they translated live. While A Show Of Hands closed out Rush’s deal with Mercury in America, it would be steady as she goes for Rush on the follow-up, which would be the band’s first for Atlantic Records. There might have been the odd tweak or two to the music, but Rush’s gaze would remain focused on the centerline of that road for a few more years yet.