Precedence: bulk
From: rush@syrinx.umd.edu
To: rush_mailing_list
Subject: 06/02/94 - The National Midnight Star #976 *** Special Edition ***
** ____ __ ___ ____ ___ ___ **
** / /_/ /_ /\ / /__/ / / / / /\ / /__/ / **
** / / / /__ / \/ / / / / /__/ / \/ / / /___ **
** **
** __ ___ ____ **
** /\ /\ / / \ /\ / / / _ /__/ / **
** / \/ \ / /___/ / \/ / /___/ / / / **
** **
** ____ ____ ___ ___ **
** /__ / /__/ /__/ **
** ____/ / / / / \ **
List posting/followup: rush@syrinx.umd.edu
Administrative matters: rush-request@syrinx.umd.edu
or
rush-mgr@syrinx.umd.edu
(Administrative postings to the posting address will be ignored!)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The National Midnight Star, Number 976
Thursday, 2 June 1994
Today's Topics:
Seconds magazine interview
----------------------------------------------------------
Date: Thu, 2 Jun 1994 22:55:30 GMT
From: Gregg Jaeger <jaeger@buphy.bu.edu>
Subject: Seconds magazine interview
Rush - Astronomicon (from "Seconds" Issue 25, 1994) w/o Permission.
====================
It's more than a coincidence that RUSH is Canada's most important
contribution to modern rock history. Technicians of euphonius great
white major-league hard rock for nineteen albums over twenty years,
the mild-mannered trio of vocalist/bassist GEDDY LEE, drummer/lyricist
NEIL PEART and guitar god Alex Lifeson has quietly made its multi-platinum
mark by producing populist aural tomes of proficient, honest, working-
class-hero arena prog metal for the masses. Tastefully removed from
the rock biz tabloid hit/media machine, and far purer in their intent
than any loud-mouthed soap-box punk politico scenester, these
enigmatic sci-fi musos will never win over flavor-of-the-month rock
critics or zombified dance-ready Top 40 fans or virtually anybody
who considers themselves `hip.' Some may wince at their low-brow/
middle-brow/high-brow classicisms and Peart's Ayn Rand-inspired
doggerel lyrics, and may may wanna strangle Geddy for his trademark
cat-scratch-Zeppelin vocal squeal, but most of these people, from
the dazed and confused generation to present, are probably just hung
up on the fact that Rush reminds them of all the pimple-scarred
burned-out high school assholes who've made the band rick and famous.
But that's okay cuz after two decades of anti-pop virtuoso expurgations,
this trochaic triumvirate is laughing all the way to the bank, with
their unyielding artistic integrity firmly intact.
Furtively focused and creatively self-centered, Rush is back for more
with Counterparts (Atlantic). With a `now' sound unrivaled by the
majority of its grunge-bandwagon-jumping metallic contemporaries,
this release is easily the band's finest studio effort since early-daze
Ford/Carter-era 70s somniferous classics like _Fly By Night_, _A
Farewell To Kings_, or _2112_. From the opening gunshot of ``Animate''
and ``Stick It Out'' to there ethereal glow of ``Nobody's Hero''
and ``Alien Shore'' to the machine-like execution of ``Double Agent''
and ``Cold Fire,'' Rush shows the MTV-driven caravan of Johnny-come-
lately, faux-gnarly-dude franchise bands like Bland Lemon and the
Stone Gossard Pilots a thing or two about texterity, sincerity
and bombast. Shit-hot overkill for all the right reasons, tasteful
state-of-the-art studio wizardry with class, Lee, Peart, and Lifeson
have rattled and hummed our collective craw with one of the great
unexpected sonic gems of recent memory. Imagine King's X or Alice
In Chains abandoned at a Canadian Star Trek convention, or Super
Dave Osborne _In Utero_, and you've got a good feel for the latest
din emanating from these forty-something men of steel.
They say whatever goes around comes around, and now the time is
right for the proper historical re-evaluation of Rush. From the
return of progressive tendencies exhibited by popular 90s roadhogs
like Faith No More and Primus, to the post-Floyd/Kraftwerk astral
daze of ambient space travelers live The Orb and Ultramarine, to
the rise of impressionable bell-bottomed rock product consumers
too young to realize that most of the 70s supergroups really did
suck, these low-profile album-rock tycoons deserve their just
due as the Led Zep of Generation X, the ELP for Reagan's kidz,
and the reason punk rock has survived since Johnny Rotten first
wet his bondage pants seemingly ages ago. Simply put, in an
industry dominated by sell-out whores and disco dandies, Rush
continues to display grace under pressure. _Sans_ pop or circumstance,
Lee and Peart discuss the battle of the heart and mind, free will,
and everyday glory. For these self-effacing three stooges, all the
world's a stage.
S{econds}: One thing I noticed about your latest album is that it's
progressive, but in a 90s context. Is that an accurate assessment?
L{ee}: I think we're consciously trying to stay current. There's
nothing worse than a band like us which profess to have progressive
tendencies sounding like some outcasts, an anachronism from the 70s
or early 80s. I think there was a concerted effort from a sonic
point of view to sound more current. I thought our last few records
were very sophisticated, and in some ways it suited certain songs,
but in other ways, I felt the band really wanted to be more aggressive
and reckless; however, the nature of the way we were recording didn't
really allow for it. When it came to the mix, and we wanted to make
the sound more urgent, it just wasn't there. There was a concerted
effort this time to move away from that sound, and use examples of
some current American bands that are doing more ballsy, reckless,
drier-sounding things. So, the sonics of the record were influenced
by contemporary American production more than individual bands;
there was a very concerted effort to get heaviness into the sound,
to make it rhythmically active in a groove-oriented way. All these
things were fun for us to try, and in certain instances they
worked.
S: It seems to have a more contemporary feel than some of your
other records. Where did that all come from?
P{eart}: It's awfully complicated how you add all that up because
in some ways, the so-called modern style is retro. It's a noisier
approach to recording, with a drier approach, and a crusty sound
around the drums. It's almost not new, it's a nod to the past in
the style of alot of bands. Even the 70s sound to its ugly extreme
is becoming a fashionable thing. The nature of being progressive,
it's hard to define what that means. I guess the values are still
the same. The musicianships all in there, there's no way we're
going to play something that's insulting to us.
S: Has that progressive label ever held you back?
L: I'm not sure what it does. We're such a weird band. We've
evolved into this entity, and I really don't think there's anybody
else within our area of music right now. So it's really hard to say
if it's held us back or not. I think what it's done is created a
sound for us that's unquestionably us. I don't know whether it's just
a question of the fact that we've outlived everyone else or that we've
been successful with blending other things into our music.
P: It's carried an unfortunate freight along with it, so it's
probably a word that you tend not to use very much because of that.
I don't think it's hurt us, and how could it really? It hasn't changed
our values, there's just no way we'd let down the standards we hold
ourselves to. It's still important for us to have challenging parts
to play and to play them well, really, simply as instrumentalists.
S: Your first big break was opening for the New York Dolls. What were
your impressions of them? You didn't have anything in common with
them, did you?
L: We were a band coming out of the bars. So many times when we played
these bars, we had to put on a show. We went through a phase when we
were a very glitter-oriented band. This is going way, way back, when we
were eighteen or nineteen years old.
S: You dressed the look, too?
L: Yeah, we had the whole schmear. Shiny clothes, big shoes. I
see pictures way back then every once in a while and it's pretty
embarrassing stuff. We'll write it off to the exuberance of youth.
That was our pre-history, just trying to get our shit together.
S: That first album is reminiscent of a great lost Zepellin album...
L: Yeah, they were big with us. The first record was influenced by
all those great British rock bands.
S: How did the sound change when Neil came in?
L: The change was inevitable -- suddenly we had a different chemistry.
When we made the first album our interests were very much about being a
simple rock band. When we made the second record, already between that
time, Neil's interests in music became aligned with mine and Alex's
desires, so we wanted to make our music more complicated. Our old
drummer John was never really into that. That was one of the reasons
he left. When Neil came in, he was the third piece to the puzzle and
he confirmed all the stuff we wanted to do. We started fucking up
our music.
P: There was a little more racket coming from the drum kit. Part of
the conflict and tension with the previous drummer was that Geddy
and Alex were starting to think in ways that he either couldn't or
wouldn't keep up with. From the time I joined, all those ideas were
floating, and the very first day we jammed on the parts of what would
become "Anthem." It was just a natural thing. In some ways, I guess
I opened them up.
S: What about those sci-fi influences? That style comes out of the
English progressive, intellectual rock scene, right? And Neil's
reading material was the basis for your lyrics?
L: Yeah, a lot of them were Neil's ideas, sure. We handed the mantle
of lyric-writing over to him. We noticed during our first tour how
much he read and how he had a good grasp of the English language,
so we figured here's our out. We hated writing lyrics, we just wanted
to write music -- "Neil, run with the ball, it's yours!" He started
coming up with all kinds of thought-provoking stuff. We liked the ideas,
because at the time we were looking for ways to make our music more
interesting, and here was some sci-fi-based lyrics that sparked our
imagination, and we were able to push our music into a different
context. It was a great catalyst.
P: I was never a sci-fi nerd kid and didn't watch "Star Trek" or read
science fiction, but then when I was in England, I was poor and couldn't
afford to buy books. So, I was ransacking the closet where I lived
and found alot of sci-fi. It reintroduced me to the genre and made me
realize it wasn't all about numbers and integrated circuits. It
refreshed my idea of what the style was, and that lead me into fantasy.
It was a whole lot of reading at the time, of being young and interested
in fantasy and science fiction and alternative universes. That was all
in my reading, so naturally it reflected in the lyrics.
S: You're one of the only long-lasting three-piece rock bands. What
has been the key to your success in that regard?
P: We probably have the _Guiness Book of World Records_ for the longest
lasting band with the same members. As I outlined before, there are
certain elements of our individual progression that happen to be
parallel, and that was important. The biggest factor is with the
songwriting. The input is so equal; the responsibilities and the
satisfactions are also equal. Nobody feels slighted, nobody feels
like they write all the good songs, as often happens when you have
a one-songwriter band; that tends to lead to resentment and bitterness
and arguments, I've seen this happen to so many bands. I'd have to
think that's one of the big factors. I've seen bands get torn apart
by those kind of stresses. It's such a fundamental ego thing of
self-pride: "Am I the important guy in the band or am I just one
of the bums?" Those conflicts tear apart more bands than people
think.
L: I guess it depends on your perspective. If you look at The Who,
they were a three piece band, instrument-wise. More than any band,
they've been a model of admiration for myself because they're such
good songwriters. They weren't wimpy, even when they were melodic.
They had this fantastic urgency to their music. They were able so
survive because of that songwriting quality. Ironically, it's
probably our musicianship that's kept us afloat more than our song-
writing, but I think the two have grown hand in hand. Circumstances
have allowed us to flourish by comparison. We were considered a
very crude and not very adept rock band early on. Then punk came
along and that was even more crude and inept, and suddenly we looked
like brilliant players; that spurred us to become better musicians,
and we rode on that for awhile. What we have evolved into has always
been in context with everything else that's going on around us in
the scene. The fact that our live shows have always been of high
quality and that kids who've come to see us walk away pretty happy,
that's created the base of our existence and brought us time to
evolve. We'd like to think that we keep getting better.
S: Many people have criticized your use of Ayn Rand references,
particularly her supposed fascist agenda. But I've always seen her
work as the ultimate in libertarianism.
P: Absolutely. We've just been through a federal election here in
Canada. Anytime certain buttons are pushed, people went wild. You'd
just mention something like free trade and everybody just lost their
minds. It's the same thing with fascism; it's like a sampler, you just
keep pressing that button, "You're a fascist! You're a fascist!
You're a commie! You're a commie!" You can just see a rap record going
back and forth on those kind of stupid labels. It was genuine at the
time. It just reflected the reading I was doing and the thinking I
was doing, and what I thought was a very dramatic setting for a piece
of music. It was so innocent, but I certainly never anticipated causing
any controversy whatsoever. Like so many people getting labeled with
an influence like that, I was just reading Camille Paglia last year
and she said that anytime she mentions Freud, people automatically
think she buys into every word that Freud ever said, which is far from
the case for almost anybody with regard to their mentors or exemplars
or early heroes. They're inspirations, it doesn't mean you buy into
every single thing that they say. Most of us are independent enough
to take a selection of different people's ideas and meld them together
into something of our own. It was just simplistic labeling at the time,
and thankfully I think it's died out.
L: I couldn't agree with you more. I don't view her as fascist, I don't
think _Manifesto_ is a fascist manifesto. She's not trying to dominate
anyone. Her views, to me, were aimed at giving people confidence enough
to fight for their own ideas. I always thought those fascist remarks
were way off the mark. I found Ayn Rand's work at a certain time in my
life -- this is going back to '76-'77 -- to be a great liberator and a
great relief because her artistic manifesto was so strong and inspiring.
Her views on art and the sanctity of individuals were very inspiring to
young musicians in a band, fighting for their own identity. I look back
now many years later, and some of the songs and ideas are a very severe
way of looking at living, but when you consider her life and where she
came from, the life that she lived, and when you take an educated look
at her, it makes alot of sense.
S: When someone throws out words like `fascist' or `bigot', you can't
say anything.
P: There's no defense. One of the parties here got tarred with that
brush. They were arguing for immigration control and that became
racism. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't -- but the fascist/bigot button
came out and they're tarred with that brush forever.
S: Do you ever get that `fascist' tag anymore?
P: No, I don't think so. Political consciousness has changed so much,
that polarity really doesn't exist anymore. That was a 70s thing,
especially in Britain where all that controversy began. And since the
radical left wing is so discredited now, it automatically seems to
defuse the radical right wing.
S: Your band's name is vernacular for a drug experience. How has
your view of drugs changed over the years, especially as a major
player in the rock business?
P: I got a similar question from an English journalist: "Is Rush
a dodgy drug reference or what?" People can't reflect back to earlier
times, but in the late 60's when that name was applied it kind of
had that connotation, but at the same time it was more innocent.
You would talk about an adrenaline rush. But words like `bummer'
have passed into our vernacular. I'm amazed to hear grandparents
use the word `bummer,' and that's without any drug connotations.
Sure, that's the root of the metaphor, but that's not what it's
come to mean. Those things have just passed into the language in
a different way. At the time the name Rush was instituted, it had
a much broader range of possibilities.
S: How about your views on drugs?
P: People should do what they want and not hurt me. Left-wing
libertarian is what I call myself, because I do believe in the
safety-net aspect of society. I expect that to be voluntary, but
unfortunately my experience with human nature has led me to be
somewhat skeptical of that. I've decided that as a libertarian
benevolent dictator I would institute social programs.
S: Over the past few years there have been many Rush fans coming
out of the closet, especially withing popular-post-indie bands.
What do you think of this crop of artists who are progressively-
minded but weaned on punk rock?
P: I think it's wonderful. It can't do any harm. I think I mentioned
earlier the affirmation we felt about that. The angst and directness
of punk seems to have survived, but at the same time, nobody's
pretending that they can't play or that they don't want to play well.
Those values were so short-lived because the people who adopted that
pose felt that it didn't matter how well you can play. Then the serious
ones among them started to get better and became successful, so both
of their poses of being impoverished and untalented disappeared.
Suddenly, they started getting better and they started getting wealthy.
That was the demise of punk rock, because it was an untenable position
for musicians to be in. I was saying before about how bands were being
honest and playing music they liked, and hoping that others would like
it too -- the premises under which we've always worked -- but of course,
we're practically unique in that basis. Almost every piece of rock
music, especially through the 80s, was made specifically to a formula,
usually with the A&R man sitting in the studio telling the band how
to make it radion-friendly. That' s what we were up against in the
70s. To come into the 90s now, with the big musical explosion in
Seattle, everyone in the industry was caught unaware. They didn't
know how to fomularize and package it. I was suprised last spring
in Europe -- there'd be all these junior imitation Nirvana and Pearl
Jams, and it's still happening now. It will inevitably become
cheapened by that approach, but at the same time it's evidence to
the continuing power of music on its own; it can't be predicted,
it can't be controlled, it can only be reacted to. Now bands are
coming out with the musical values that have been dealt out over
the last twenty years. Those standards still exist and that's the
wonderful thing, and if that happens to be a style that's retro
or something, what does it matter? It's not like trying to be
Buddy Holly or trying to be Johnny Rotten, it's not about that at all,
it's just about keeping those values of rebellion alive, and that's
a pretty important part of rock.
L: The greatest compliment you can be given is for somebody to come
up to you and say, "You influenced the way I play," I think that
there's some great bands out there now, bands who are weird as hell.
There was a real hole in the American rock scene at one time, there
were all these glam metal bands coming out of L.A., but there really
didn't seem to be anything happening. There's a lot of musicians here
and alot of the music is very explorative -- bands like Primus,
Fishbone, Soundgarden -- these are bands I feel are really doign
interesting things. They're helping to create another generation of
musicians who will keep exploring what you can do with rock. Pop
bands like the Chili Peppers, and Nirvana, to a certain degree, although
they're a little overcooked right now, at least it's good stuff. To
me, Nirvana aren't any different from the The Police. They're just The
Police with a grungier sound, it's good pop, nothing wrong with it.
But I don't know what made us cool suddenly. I guess this is what
happens when you hang around for a long time.
S: What were you thinking when punk came?
P: Amusement, really. I know a lot of musicians around at the time felt
threatened by it. We happened to be recording in England when the Sex
Pistols first came out, and when I saw them on TV, I was so entertained.
There was no denying the charisma that John Lydon had, singing, "no
future..." At worst, it was amusing, and at best, an amazing spectacle.
As the bands started to get better, when more thoughtful bands like
Talking Heads came out and later the new romantics, I embraced it
totally. It was an irresistable force at that point, it was just rock
music that could call itself new wave.
L: Some of it was fun. We were real musos at that time. We were real
into the math of music, we were time signature freaks -- which by the
way, I see that stuff going into now too -- and maybe that's an answer
to your previous questions. Perhaps that's why some of these bands have
credited us an influence, because we put so much emphasis on the
technical side of playing, and a lot of this music that's happening
in America right now is player's music: it's not just pop, it's not
just glam music for chicks to freak out over. Back in the late 70s,
when punk was going on, since we were heavy into this muso vibe,
punk seemed very weird to us. We couldn't take it seriously, because
we were players and these guys couldn't even play. It was comedy.
S: Speaking of comedy, Rush always gets accused of its being too serious
and indulgent, but is there a humorous side to you? You did your SCTV
appearance and song for instance.
P: Do you know how much it costs us to have The Three Stooges on our
album cover?
S: So there is a humorous side to the band?
P: Not in the work, certainly, We're not comedians and we don't try
to be. I remember Roger Waters once saying that on Pink Floyd records
they used to put in little jokes, but by the time it went by them
twenty-five times, they just didn't want to hear it anymore. Comedy
doesn't survive like music does. There are very few people who manage
to do both and it takes a really special talent of a Frank Zappa, or
in Canada we have Barenaked Ladies, who manage to be funny and good
at the same time, but it's really not easy. Frank Zappa was obviously
a unique creature of the millenium. If what you're trying to do is just
make good music; there's alot of great paintings that aren't funny,
there's a lot of great novels that aren't funny, it's not the ultimate
value of the universe. Humor is certainly great and we have alot of
fun with our music.
S: You're Canada's official ambassadors of music. How does that impact
on your image as a hard, brash rock band?
L: I don't know how respectable we are. Again, it's all context.
We've been a band for twenty years, so people respect us for some
reason. I guess they respect our ability to survive and be successful,
in spite of our goofy sounds. I don't really know what the hell it
adds up to, or what it means. I certainly don't feel like an ambassador
of music. I think alot of people in Canada don't really know what to
do with us, so they keep giving us awards. "You're the greatest, most
ridiculous band of the decade, the band that's been around and been
succesful, even though we can't figure out why" award of the year.
It's a strange station we're in.
P: Well, the respectability is not to be overrated. We haven't ahd a
lot of it. We're slowly creeping into respectability, just through
sheer longevity though. It's a fortunate thing that if approval comes
after twenty years from respectable quarters, it's just a tribute to
your survival. In those cases, our fans can be proud of having
achieved that, rather than just having it given to them. There's no
perception of us crossing over to the business sector. We've proved
we would never be puppets of the industry, so therefore, if we do
get associated with an award, it can't reflect badly on us at this
point.
S: In retrospect, what's your best and worst work?
P: See, I don't listen to them everyday. Then you get colored by
playing them live. I tend to be more excited to hear the songs that
we don't play live. _Hold Your Fire_ is one of my recent faves.
There's a mood about that album and a strength in the songs that
if I were outside of it all as a Rush fan, I think I would rate
that album very highly. There are bits of all of them that I like,
and it always tends to be a diminishing rating system. Each one
I like less than the one after it.
L: I guess _2112_, _Moving Pictures_, _Permanent Waves_, _Roll
the Bones_, I think that's some of our best work. Some of our
dicey work is _Caress of Steel_, _Grace Under Pressure_, although
times have been kinder to that record than I imagined.
S: Were there certain outside pressures going on that hindered you
from creating those great Rush albums?
L: I think it's just part of the process. Sometimes you make a winner,
sometimes you don't, it's all hit or miss. With a band like us, we don't
really know what we're doing until we do it. It's not contrived, we
don't ask anyone's opinion of it, there's no refractile input in our
music, aside from the producer, engineer, and the small team that we
work with. It's very much an insular organization. Maybe we missed
something that somebody else might have pointed out to us. We don't
have any regrets because you can't get to C from A without going
through B, and that's the way we work. Whatever we go through that's
negative as a band, we learn something about making records from it
and hopefully it'll surface on the next record, and we always believe
that there is another record. It's a long-term view.
P: No one has the right to exert any pressure on us. We've never
allowed anyone else in the studio. No record company people are
running around offering opinions and no one hears our demos but
us. It's very much a closed shop. Sometimes we get off on tangents,
but without those tangents, we wouldn't learn what we applied later.
I consider all the albums worthwhile. There's nothing I look back
at and say. "I wish we didn't do that song" or "I wish we did that
record a different way." In every case, they were approached so
honestly, there was no other way they could've been done. In every
case, all three of us came together on day one determined to make
the best record, and there were no obstacles put in our way except
our own. Sometimes we have high hopes for a song that just doesn't
translate in the final analysis. If we've gone to the trouble of
rehearsing and arranging it, we tend to be behind it whole-heartedly.
When we finish a record, it's amazing how our songs are rated for
ourselves compared to people's responses later on. It probably takes
us longer than anyone else to get a sense of perspective on which
are really the successful songs and which aren't. By successful, I
mean having reached the audience we wanted to, people who like our
music. _Hold Your Fire_, for instance, was not one of the biggest
selling records, but the people that like it really like it alot.
That's the same way with _Grace Under Pressure_ before it. It was
not one of our more commercially successful records, but I think it
was on of the most successful in reaching our audience, and those
are the records that you tend to hear passionate responses from people.
_2112_ is like that too. There's so much passionate conviction in
there and somehow it manages to get unified enough to make a single
piece of work feel that way.
S: Have you paid attention to the development of ambient techno
acts from England like The Orb and Ultramarine?
P: The Orb I was listening to for awhile. I don't think it's necessarily
progressive, I consider it more of a backwater. Like industrial or all
these things, they do contribute to the ongoing flow, but I don't think
they direct it. It's interesting for the people that do it, I think,
but there doesn't seem to be much drum action in there.
S: It's rather faceless and introspective, the opposite of arena rock
in many ways.
P: I bet it would translate to the arena or stage the same way Pink
Floyd did or the Grateful Dead do, they really are all offering the
same spacious drone to drag you away.
S: Do you see that as a viable music scene?
P: I don't think it will direct the future of music, but it's a
really nice influence. I love when things range from every facet
of musical styles without being focused on one thing. Grunge became
really tired really fast because it was all there was in the hip
universe; where in healthier times before and after big waves like
that, things tend to be the most satisfying because there's so much
music to choose from, and even the charts will reflect a broad
stylistic input, whether it's from R&B to country to techno, all that
stuff seems to find an audience somewhere, even among the fringes.
Sometimes the fringe is where the action happens. That's why I'm not
denigrating what I said before about backwaters and tributaries.
That is where everything happens, and by the time it makes it to the
mainstream it usually becomes a formula.
S: What's the biggest misconception about Rush?
P: This band is so private. It's not like we're out in the public
eye and our acts are being misjudged. People are just guessing at
something they have no way of knowing. Our work is serious in nature.
But just because we take out work seriously doesn't mean we take
ourselves seriously. That's the distinction that we make, and that
would cerainly represent an important distinction. Our concerts
are important to us, and it's a time of great intensity being on
stage. Making records is the same way, we apply everything we have
to doing it, but it doesn't mean that we don't laugh afterwards.
----------------------------------------------------------
To submit material to The National Midnight Star, send mail to:
rush@syrinx.umd.edu
For administrative matters (subscription, unsubscription, changes, and
questions), send mail to:
rush-request@syrinx.umd.edu or
rush-mgr@syrinx.umd.edu
There is now anonymous ftp access available on Syrinx. The network
address to ftp to is:
syrinx.umd.edu or 129.2.8.114
When you've connected, userid is "anonymous", password is <your userid>.
Once you've successfully logged on, change directory (cd) to 'rush'.
There is also a mail server available (for those unable or unwilling to
ftp). For more info, send email with the subject line of HELP to:
server@ingr.com
These requests are processed nightly. Use a subject line of MESSAGE to
send a note to the server keeper or to deposit a file into the archive.
Gopher access is now available on syrinx!
Use this command to access the gopher:
gopher syrinx.umd.edu 2112
The contents of The National Midnight Star are solely the opinions and
comments of the individual authors, and do not necessarily reflect the
opinions of the authors' management, or the mailing list management.
Copyright (C) 1994 by The Rush Fans Mailing List
Editor, The National Midnight Star
(Rush Fans Mailing List)
********************************************
End of The National Midnight Star Number 976
********************************************