Title: My Effin' Life (2023)
Author: Geddy Lee
Publisher: Harper
Book jacket: The long-awaited memoir from the Rush bassist.
Joe says: Classy and honest, heartbreaking and real, and totally full of that offbeat magic Geddy has conjured for over 50 years.
Martin Popoff’s Anthem was an amateurly-edited book of transcribed interviews and thrice-told fables. Having those similar tales told by the artist himself, however, is akin to By-Tor’s victory over Snow Dog. All the world’s a stage and Geddy Lee is a master storyteller. His autobiography is classy and honest, heartbreaking and real, and totally full of that offbeat magic Geddy has conjured for over 50 years. Even if he is sometimes one step outside that spotlight.
Born as Gary Lee Weinrib to Jewish Holocaust survivors from Poland, Geddy has been married to his first love, Nancy, since 1976; his album My Favorite Headache peaked at No. 52 on the Billboard 200; grew up with Oscar Peterson, Jr as a childhood friend; and published Geddy Lee’s Big Beautiful Book of Bass in 2018.
He also, of course, rocked out as the frontman of Rush for 47 years.
During those happy days prior to the subprime mortgage crisis, I worked in IT for a major bank. One of our clients was located in Toronto that I was fortunate enough to visit with on location. During this trip, my team decided to stop at one of many wineries located south of Mississauga. The tasting room was inside a beautifully restored barn where we sampled the red, the white, and even a delicious ice wine.
Between sips the project lead – somehow and for some reason (because we were in Canada?) mentioned Rush. The vintner providing us samples overheard the convo and jumped in.
Are you fans, he asked. And before we could air drum the solo from “Tom Sawyer” he proceeded to tell us that Neil Peart grew up on the next farm over. And that the band, he said with a tooth as long as Geddy’s proboscis, even practiced here. In this very. Same. Spot.
Geddy does not mention jamming out in a barn throughout his telling in My Effin’ Life, but he did not need to, either. My Effin’ Life is jammed with his history, thoughts, beliefs, and more than a few deathly tales of loss from his father as a boy up to the more recent passings of Neil and Foo Fighters drummer Taylor Hawkins.
Unlike other rock-n-roller’s memoirs (looking at you, Phil), Geddy refrains from the sex and drugs cliches (other than countless tokes of weed, eh). He instead goes deeply into the horrors his parents lived through as prisoners of the Nazis and how that racial divide continued, albeit to lesser extremes, once in Ontario. He admits to being a perfectionist with his songwriting skills and the hours upon hours of practicing and gigging during the early days of Rush (sans farms and barns but does include the occasional ice rink). His dedication to his music is evident but Geddy selflessly admits a just as fervent dedication to his crew and, ultimately, his fans.
Geddy Lee is a righteous dude.
The release of a new Rush album was always a cause for celebration. I had a ginger mulleted friend, now lost to the shadows of time, who was one of my Rush benefactors. This dude nearly got us killed trying to make a left across a Jersey highway (no left turn signals in NJ back in ’89. Or, sadly, in ’99 either.) to pick up our reserved copy of Presto.
Two years later, Mullet Dude’s driving skills matured slightly but his musical tastes diminished. He didn’t understand the “rap” section of “Roll the Bones”. My best bud, Scott (and future best man, who would go on to quote lyrics from “A Ghost of a Chance” during his toast), sure did. He and I spent countless hours air drumming and rapping right along in the comfy seats of his ‘90s model Ford “Rush-tang”.
Fast forward a decade-ish later, I was an art director for an Indie Rock record label/booking agency. I interrupted the day’s daily rotation of Coheed & Cambria, and Lamb of God, and Opeth, and A New Found Glory, and Dashboard Confessional to spin my selection: the long-awaited Vapor Trails release. I loved every Millennial-crushing minute of it.
During the R30 tour, a sudden, and massive, storm blew in over Camden, NJ. My wife and I were dancing away to “Dreamline” while the heavens joined in with their own light show, crashing outside the arena. And the band played on.
Until they couldn’t.
News of Neil’s death was an outstanding crash. Geddy’s sorrowful retelling of those sad days is deep and profound.
And perhaps even slightly therapeutic.
Geddy is funny and ironic and even, at times, a little nasty. Most importantly, his humanity shines through it all. Life on the road was sometimes hard. Life on the home front could be equally rough. He recounts those times – both the good and bad – and all of it makes an incredibly satisfying read.
Geddy also understands Rush’s fan base. From Prog Rock Yes-grokking geeks to stone cold Black Sabbath metalheads, Rush appeals to a wide and diverse audience while never quite becoming mainstream. Geddy probably prefers it that way. One of his concluding remarks even contains a joke about being famous.
My Effin’ Life is an entertaining, thoughtful memoir that, if anything, only strengthens the bond between Geddy and his fans. And he proves that sometimes things work out alright for the geeks.
Late November 2000 I was fortunate enough to be on an early date with a fine-looking woman who was well beyond my league. We were in the car where I was playing Geddy’s My Favorite Headache.
“I like this tune,” she said.
“Yeah. This is Geddy Lee. His solo album.”
“Geddy Lee? The bass player from Rush. Right?” she replied. Her brown eyes twinkled full of knowledge and wonder and the future.
Sometimes things work out alright for the geeks.
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