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A sprightly, snaggle-toothed guitar riff leads to a boisterous rocker in which Lee, Lifeson and Peart tumble over one another with calisthenic agility.
It's interesting how few bassists can drive the melodic center of a song without coming off as scenery chewers. Sting is one, and in his own way, Iron Maiden's Steve Harris is another. Geddy Lee fills the room here, particularly in the chorus, and he's supported by Lifeson and Peart, both of whom allow him to reach into himself.
Not that the other guys don't get some, too: Peart punches holes in the mix. His approach is, for the most part, free-wheeling and swinging, but every so often he whacks the snare to such a degree that his hits sound like gunshots. And Lifeson turns in a delirious, elastic solo - during one rather grand phrase he reminds one of Eric Johnson, that sweet, tubey violin tone of his.
The song ends abruptly, and you'll probably do a double take as you hear shards of metal clanging and falling, the journey powering forward.