Ranking The Songs: My Top 20 Rush Songs of the 1970s

Written: July 2025

I first became a Rush fan in the late 1980s, starting with A Show of Hands and quickly embracing the crisp, keyboard-driven sound of albums like Hold Your Fire and Power Windows. That era remains very close to my heart, but as I explored the band’s back catalogue, it was the 1970s material that revealed an entirely different dimension of Rush - one that I came to love just as much, albeit in a completely different way.

Having previously written about My Top 20 Rush Songs of the 1980s and My Top 20 Rush Songs 1991 – 2012, this piece completes my trio of articles about the different eras of Rush.

As with any ranking, this list is entirely subjective. No doubt some of your favourites will be missing, and others may be placed higher or lower than you would expect. That is part of the fun. Feel free to share your own picks or comment below. I would love to hear what songs defined the 1970s Rush era for you.

 20. What You’re Doing (Rush, 1974)

There is something enjoyably blunt about What You’re Doing. The opening riff hammers away, with Geddy snarling over the top. It is heavy, simple, and clearly indebted to the hard rock of the day, but it carries an energy that Rush would quickly build on. The live versions are even better, but the studio cut remains a perfect snapshot of a young band with everything to prove. It is not especially clever, but it does not need to be. For fans of early Rush, this is essential. Dirty, direct, and deeply satisfying when in the right mood.

19. Cygnus X-1 Book II: Hemispheres (Hemispheres, 1978)

I know some fans will baulk that this is so low in the ranking, but I have always much preferred Book I. That said, Hemispheres is impressive in its own right – ambitious, intricate, and musically sophisticated in ways few bands would even attempt. Neil’s lyrics are dense and philosophical, leaning fully into the cerebral territory that defined late-1970s Rush. Alex’s playing is phenomenal throughout, particularly in the shifting instrumental passages. Bold and uncompromising, it signalled an important moment in Rush’s evolution, realising they had taken the progressive elements of their music as far as they could and wanted to. As Geddy stated in the Beyond the Lighted Stage documentary, “We ran from Hemispheres straight into Spirit of Radio.”

18. Beneath, Between & Behind (Fly By Night, 1975)

There is a tight, punchy urgency to Beneath, Between & Behind. Neil’s lyrics are allusive – an early taste of the politically and historically charged writing he would become known for – yet the music hits with immediate force. Geddy snarls the lines with conviction, while Alex and Neil lock into a taut, aggressive groove. It is not epic in length, but it carries a sense of purpose and momentum that pushes it forward breathlessly. There is no wasted space here. It may not get the same attention as the more expansive tracks, but this is focused, hard-hitting Rush.

17. The Twilight Zone (2112, 1976)

There is something wonderfully eerie about The Twilight Zone. Inspired by specific episodes of the television series, it captures a mood of surreal unease that stands apart in Rush’s catalogue. Geddy’s vocal delivery is subtly theatrical, and the music moves in odd directions, perfectly matching the subject matter. It is also a key moment on 2112 – the album’s underrated second side rarely gets the same attention, but this track adds depth and atmosphere to it. Alex’s solo is both expressive and restrained. The Twilight Zone is mysterious, understated, and surprisingly durable. A sleeper gem in the Rush canon.

16. The Necromancer (Caress of Steel, 1975)

Overall, Caress of Steel remains my least favourite Rush album of the seventies, but something about this one always captures me - the slow-burn opening section and the gorgeous end segment in particular. While a little overblown, The Necromancer plays out like a fantasy mini-epic, full of shifting dynamics and tonal experimentation. Alex’s guitar tones are especially evocative here, and there is a looseness to the performance. It is the sound of a band experimenting freely (in more ways than one!!). A glorious mess in parts, but one with real heart and moments of beauty.

15. Finding My Way (Rush, 1974)

Yes, it sounds like Led Zeppelin, but I got into Rush before I ever heard Zeppelin, purely because of when I was a teenager and discovered each band. This one has always stuck with me. That opening scream is pure rock theatre, and the whole thing barrels forward with youthful confidence. There is no subtlety, no nuance – just power-trio energy in its rawest form. It may not be technically brilliant, but I still get a jolt every time that riff kicks in. For a debut album track, it feels fully formed. It is also the sound of a band keen to make their mark.

14. By-Tor and the Snow Dog (Fly By Night, 1975)

By-Tor and the Snow Dog was the first full-blown Rush epic – an eight-minute battle between good and evil, told via howling guitars and mythic overdrive. The instrumental section is outrageously inventive, and Neil's arrival is immediately felt. He takes the band into realms they had only hinted at before. This was not blues-rock anymore; this was theatre. It still makes me grin now – chaotic, dramatic, and entirely their own. An important stepping stone in the beginning of their transformation.

13. A Passage to Bangkok (2112, 1976)

There is a sly, cheeky edge to A Passage to Bangkok that I have always loved. For all the exotic references, it is essentially a stoner travelogue, and Rush play it with a twinkle in their collective eye. Geddy leans into the phrasing, and Alex lets loose some wonderful guitar lines that snake through the track. It is tight, catchy, and very different to the long-form epic on the first side of 2112. The structure is deceptively smart too – it does a lot in a short time. Light-hearted Rush, done right. A necessary counterbalance to their heavier moments.

12. Bastille Day (Caress of Steel, 1975)

This one punches like a sledgehammer. Bastille Day opens Caress of Steel with a ferocity that the rest of the album rarely matches. It is Rush going full throttle – political, passionate, and musically on fire. Neil’s drumming is wild and inventive, and Alex’s guitar parts are slashing and urgent. It also shows their increasing confidence in using historical themes without sounding like a lecture. I still remember hearing it for the first time and being knocked sideways by the sheer energy of it. For a band accused of being too cerebral, this is proof they could truly let rip when needed. I also share a birthday with Bastille Day so I have always had a strange affinity for the song.

11. Tears (2112, 1976)

A rare moment of softness from 1970s Rush, and one I have always had an affection for. Tears shows a different side to Geddy – as a writer and performer. His vocal is unusually delicate, and Hugh Syme’s mellotron adds a dreamy, almost psychedelic haze that sets it apart from the rest of 2112. It may not be complex, but there is something honest and affecting in its simplicity. Some fans dismiss it as too lightweight, but that always felt unfair to me. Rush needed these moments of light to balance the thunder. A gentle gem.

10. Working Man (Rush, 1974)

The riff that started it all. Working Man was the song that broke Rush in the USA, thanks to a DJ in Cleveland, as the story goes, and it is not hard to see why. Gritty, blue-collar hard rock, with a massive groove and a real sense of lived-in frustration. It might be the most ‘ordinary’ song Rush ever recorded, and yet it is still brilliant. The solo section is thrillingly raw, and Geddy’s voice is less refined but no less powerful. It is easy to forget just how heavy this sounded in the mid-1970s. They would soon head for more progressive territory, but Working Man remains a grounding reminder of their roots. A timeless anthem for real-life heroes.

9. Anthem (Fly By Night, 1975)

If Working Man was Rush as they were, then Anthem is Rush as they were about to become. The opening track on Fly By Night announces a new era with force – Neil Peart’s arrival, a shift in lyrical scope, and a fresh rhythmic tightness. It still rocks hard, but there is a precision and drive that feels totally new. Geddy’s bass playing is ferocious, and Alex delivers one of his sharpest early solos. It is lean and unapologetically intense. The real Rush had arrived and this was their first mission statement of a new sound.

8. Xanadu (A Farewell to Kings, 1977)

Xanadu builds so patiently (the introduction is an odyssey in itself), layering textures before Geddy even sings a word. Inspired by Coleridge’s poetry, it is one of Rush’s most cinematic songs – sweeping, dramatic, and evocative. It is also one of the clearest examples of them working as a single unit – no one dominates, and each part weaves in and out with real finesse. The live versions are even more epic, but the studio cut retains a sense of mystery. I used to put this on late at night with headphones for total immersion. It is a song that truly transports you. One of their finest achievements in the art of musical storytelling.

7. A Farewell to Kings (A Farewell to Kings, 1977)

Majestic, moody, and musically adventurous, A Farewell to Kings is everything I love about 1970s Rush. It opens like a medieval dream, with gentle classical guitar, before crashing into one of their most thunderous riffs. Lyrically tackling disillusionment with power and hypocrisy, it walks a delicate line between anger and sadness. I have always found it one of their most emotionally resonant songs – complex, but never cold. It also has some of Alex’s most expressive guitar work, shifting effortlessly from pastoral beauty to apocalyptic crunch. A song that stirs both head and heart.

6. Cygnus X-1 Book I: The Voyage (A Farewell to Kings, 1977)

The Voyage begins like a prog horror film – Geddy’s vocals distorted and distant, the bass like a throbbing pulse in the void. It is part science fiction and part descent into madness, abstract and wonderfully creepy. Structurally, the multiple sections, dramatic shifts and long instrumental break all hold together beautifully. It is about the journey, not the conclusion. I still admire the sheer boldness of it and I never tire of it.

5. Closer to the Heart (A Farewell to Kings, 1977)

Their most enduring radio song of the 1970s, Closer to the Heart is short, tuneful, and meaningful – proof that Rush could do accessible without compromising anything. The lyrics are still relevant, and the melody has aged beautifully. Geddy’s vocal is heartfelt without being saccharine, and the instrumental break shows their craftsmanship and use of balance. It is no wonder it became a concert staple. A real moment of unity in their catalogue – fans of all eras seem to agree on this one. There is something genuinely uplifting about it.

4. The Trees (Hemispheres, 1978)

Only Rush could turn an allegory using forest politics into one of their most beloved songs. The Trees is playful, pointed and endlessly clever. Neil’s lyrics walk a brilliant line. Musically, it is superb – opening with a delicate classical motif, then crashing into angular riffs, time changes and a delightful quieter central section. I love the drama of it. Alex’s solo is short but perfect, and the outro is just glorious. For all their high-concept moments, The Trees shows they could be tight, concise, and memorable too.

3. Fly by Night (Fly By Night, 1975)

The title track from Fly By Night was one of the first 1970s Rush songs I truly loved. Everything about it clicked for me – the riff, the chorus, the momentum. It is concise, sharp, and endlessly listenable. Lyrically, it is about running away into the unknown to find yourself, and as a teenager, that spoke to me. It might not have the grandeur of their longer tracks, but it has heart, urgency and joy. Sometimes, you just need a song that lifts you instantly. For me, Fly by Night is that song.

2. La Villa Strangiato (Hemispheres, 1978)

On La Villa Strangiato, every note feels considered, and yet the whole thing flows with remarkable ease. From flamenco flourishes to full-on fusion, it is the band at their technical peak but also at their most playful. The subtitle says it all: ‘An Exercise in Self-Indulgence’. And yet, it never feels self-important. It is funny, thrilling, and staggeringly precise. An epic that never outstays its welcome. Among the best things they ever recorded during any era.

1. 2112 (2112, 1976)

2112 is where everything came together – concept, performance, ambition, and sheer audacity. A twenty-minute suite that manages to tell a story, build worlds, and completely upend what rock music could be. From the synth laden introduction to the blazing conclusion, it still gives me chills. It is Rush throwing caution to the wind on what they thought might be their last roll of the dice - utterly themselves, against all logic. They staked their careers on this and won. The solos are blistering, the structure bold, and the emotional power undeniable.

Listen to my playlist of My Top 20 Rush Songs of the 1970s below: