What could be more delightfully menacing, more curiously ambivalent than an esoterically charged owl coming at us from the deep, dark evening sky? The moon is on the rise and the bird is on the wing. The sun is setting and I’m getting an ominous feeling, all. Rush songs always kind of read as a sonic rendering of the fantasy section of the used bookstore and Fly by Night is no exception.
With lyrics like ‘Anthem’’s peppy “anthem of the heart and mind / a funeral dirge for eyes gone blind” one can only interpret some kind of complex mysticism behind the owl’s eyes, engaging us as he is in an unrelenting philosophical staring contest.
Fly by night they beckon. But are you really tempted to accept the invitation? Are you well and truly willing to flit around in the clouds with this wild card in your midst? Choice is yours, dear sojourner, but be warned: the night comes fast and swift around these parts.
Trite allusions to the hero’s journey aside, there is a decidedly hermetic feel to this whole owl gig. Which is one way of saying that what we’re looking at is an anthropomorphic Socrates of the sky with a sinister medieval bent. We are mere spectators –each another’s audience, outside the gilded cage – to this whole haunting affair. Alas, the elusive animistic wisdom of the owl is forever passing us by and leaving us battered and bewildered, lying alone on the forest floor. Which pretty accurately describes the emotional toll that Fly by Night has on its most loyal prog-rock acolytes.
Fly by Night – 1975 – Concept by Rush – Cover Art by Eraldo Carugati
