3/28: Anagram
Time for some delightful wordplay off Presto
Raise the art to resistance.
Danger dare to be grand.
Pride reduced to humble pie.
Diamonds down to sand.
One of the things I love most about learning foreign languages is how the meanings of words reveal the philosophy of the people who constructed the language.
For example, in Japanese the word for “paper” is kami, which is also the same as the word for “gods".” To some, that might suggest that the Japanese perceive divinity as thin or vulnerable as paper. Or maybe it’s the opposite. After all, paper is one of the greatest feats of human ingenuity—our fate is to die and let our knowledge die with us, but by writing things down on paper, we can defy that fate and ensure ideas will live forever. Paper is fragile and insubstantial, yet also our closest key to immortality in our possession.
Another great example is the word for “truth” in Hebrew, emet, a three letter word that was scrawled across the forehead of the legendary golem in order to animate it. However, if you erase one of the letters, the word becomes “death",” and the golem stops moving. That “death” should be embedded in the word for “truth” reminds us, in my opinion, that humility is a necessary ingredient to understanding, and that the path to enlightenment starts—but does not end—with accepting our own mortality.
Anagrams are a fun way to explore this relationship between words and linguistic philosophy. Neil clearly had a lot of fun playing around with this idea in “Anagram.” It’s hard to pick a favorite play on words, but I do really love this one:
“He” and “she” are in the “house,”
But in the “home,” there is only “me.”
The line embodies Neil’s personal philosophy of individualism, of course, but also speaks to a bone-deep loneliness at the core of his being. Neil believed in the power of the individual over the collective, but the other side of that coin is a difficulty in letting people in past the shield, to see the real him.
“Anagram” isn’t one of the band’s legendary anthems or anything, but it’s a lot of fun, and like many songs off Presto, an absolute bop. The chord progression in the chorus is particularly lovely, and, yes, classic 1980’s. Give a spin below:


"Man, a rag, anagram!" It's been so long since I played this song it feels like I'm hearing it for the first time. It's so poppy that I wonder if the vocals are taken out and Neil's fills are removed whether I would pick it out as a Rush song at all. The keyboards are super 80s and remind me of something specific I can't place.