Because of the creative freedom Rush was afforded, especially in the wake of its breakthrough commercial success in 1980, complacency never set in. Lee, Lifeson, and Peart might have been overjoyed with how the smash success Moving Pictures turned out, but they were so restless, so eager to branch out stylistically, that it never even occurred to them to make a Moving Pictures Part Two. Still, despite a few clues at the end of that record, there’s no way fans could have anticipated what the follow-up would sound like. Although in retrospect it is a logical extension of what Rush was doing on Moving Pictures, Signals is nevertheless the most audacious album of the band’s career, which would dare the staunchest rock fans to follow the trio into more synthetic, electronic territory.

Ironically, just as heavy metal was on the verge of exploding worldwide thanks to a new generation of bands and young fans, Rush, a band that influenced many if not all those bands, was heading in a completely different direction. Instead, the band was drawing from such artists as Talking Heads, Peter Gabriel, and U2, learning that stripping down the music to near skeletal form, exploring texture rather than power, can be just as creatively liberating as creating complex progressive rock. And indeed, Signals would be a liberation of sorts.

Nothing in the Rush discography sounds like Signals, but at the same time it fits so naturally alongside Moving Pictures and 2112 that it hardly feels like an anomaly. But make no mistake, the band’s dynamic was undergoing a serious shift, thanks primarily to Lee’s growing preoccupation with cutting edge electronics. His arsenal of keyboards, drum machines, and sequencers was becoming as huge as Peart’s now legendary drum kit, and as that was happening, Lifeson’s role in the band was becoming less of a focal point than before. Instead of leading the way with riffs, Lifeson was now playing more of a supporting role, still contributing solos but now, like Andy Summers of the Police and U2’s Edge, exploring new, subtler guitar techniques to complement the increasingly synthetic sounds Lee was creating. In addition, Peart’s lyrics were now ditching straightforward narratives and philosophizing for more contemporary themes: suburbia, the growing digital culture, control via fear, space travel.

“Subdivisions” not only kicks off Signals but to this day marks the creative high point of Rush’s new wave era. Lee always humbly claimed he was no Keith Emerson, but the keyboard line he comes up with on this song is extraordinary in both its minimalism and its gravitas, gorgeously underscoring Peart’s heartbreaking and compassionate depiction of adolescent isolation in the dull suburbs. “Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone,” he writes. “Any escape might help to smooth the unattractive truth, but the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youth.” Although Lee’s synths dominate, Lifeson makes valuable contributions, his rhythm riffs adding needed weight, his sinewy solo showing just how far his technique had changed in such short time. As for Peart, his own turn toward the minimalist yields arguably his greatest drumming ever on a Rush song. As he demonstrated on “Tom Sawyer” a year earlier, it’s much more effective to serve the song rather than overwhelm it and to pull out the powerful drum fills for dynamic effect, and his quirky syncopation on “Subdivisions” is extraordinary in its expression. Rush always had a particular appeal to social misfits, but “Subdivisions” and its accompanying video would win over a new generation of adolescents. Poll the band’s Generation X-aged fans, and many will say this song is among their favorites.

That’s far from the album’s sole highlight, however. Two songs on Signals in particular are tremendous examples of Rush’s creative peak during this era, yet couldn’t be more different. “The Analog Kid” whips in like a breath of fresh air, upbeat and full of optimism and shameless romanticism. The mood is pensive, sentimental, and rosy-hued, Peart’s depiction of a lovestruck young dreamer echoed beautifully in the music, which shifts gracefully from nimble hard rock to ethereal, warm synth-based passages. Conversely, as “The Analog Kid” exudes warmth and humanity, “Digital Man,” as its title implies, is taut, nervous, and chilly — for the third consecutive album that Police influence rears its head — and Peart’s protagonist is a worker reduced to an automaton, living for his work, incapable of interacting with humanity, knowing it’s all going to come to an empty, unfulfilling end (“He’s got a date with fate in a black sedan”), but all he can do is lose himself in his work (“He won’t need a bed — he’s a digital man”).

The second part of the “Fear” quadrilogy kicked off on Moving Pictures, “The Weapon” is a tour de force for Lee, who builds the song with layers of sequencers and synths, Peart providing a propulsive kosmische musik pulse that slowly morphs into a Moroder-style dance beat, Lifeson adding faint traces of accents and melodies via guitar. “Countdown” is a stirring album closer, an evocative musical recount of the band’s firsthand experience witnessing the launch of the space shuttle Challenger’s first orbital flight in April 1981, complete with NASA communication recordings from the launch. Originally started as a last-minute attempt to even out both sides of the cassette version of the album, “New World Man” might have been more rushed (‘scuse the pun) than usual, but its delightful, sprightly hooks connected with radio listeners, topping the chart in Canada, peaking at 21 in America and 36 in the UK.

Two deep cuts never get as much attention as the more popular Rush classics, but nevertheless help elevate Signals to the upper echelon of the discography. The last song (thus far) to feature lyrics written collaboratively by all three members, “Chemistry” is a sublime marriage of rock, new wave, and electronic music. Even more underrated, though, is the gem “Losing It,” a surprisingly tender ballad highlighted by beautiful electric violin solos by Ben Mink of Toronto prog band FM. The song has never been performed live, which, considering the string section that toured with Rush in 2012 and 2013, now feels like a blown opportunity.

As is often the case with an album that refuses to be compartmentalized, Signals was misunderstood by many critics, with J.D. Considine of Rolling Stone going as far as to write, “Signals is chockablock with state-of-the-studio gadgetry, ranging from the requisite banks of synthesizers to the latest in digital recording and mixing, none of these electronic add-ons enhances the group’s music. If anything, Rush emerges from this jungle of wires and gizmos sounding duller than ever.” The band, too, voiced its dissatisfaction with the album, saying it veered too far into keyboard territory, and typically as fidgety as ever, it would continue to tweak that ever-evolving sound on the next album, which, as they’d soon find out, would be nearly as strife-ridden as 1978’s Hemispheres.