Rush fans are extremely divided about the band’s mid-to-late ‘80s work. Following 1981’s landmark “Moving Pictures,” the Canadian trio moved sharply away from the prog-rock arrangements and sci-fi lyrics that had defined their work to that point, and adopted a more modern, synth-oriented sound. A lot of older fans resented this switch, which they perceived as a pop move that betrayed the group’s progressive roots. But a closer examination of this stage of Rush’s career, and in particular 1985’s overlooked “Power Windows,” shows that Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart were developing a constantly maturing melodic sensibility that complemented, rather than detracted from, their formidable instrumental chops.

On Rush’s previous two albums, “Signals” (1982) and “Grace Under Pressure” (1984), the band made heavier use of synthesizers, but this change in sound came virtually at the total expense of Alex Lifeson’s guitar. On “Power Windows,” the trio finally managed to find a balance between their fixation with new technology and the tricky instrumental interplay that defined earlier albums such as “2112” and “Hemispheres.” “Marathon” is straightforward new-wave pop, until about the three-minute mark. At that point, the song shifts abruptly into a breakdown in 7/4, with the kind of stop-on-a-dime precision that comes with Rush’s years of honing their technical ability.

One of the most common knocks on this band is that they are all technique and no hook. “Power Windows” disproves this with gusto. Neil Peart has never been the kind of lyricist who spends a lot of time looking inward, so the subject matter here ranges from capitalism (“The Big Money”) to the creation of the atom bomb (“Manhattan Project”). But these oblique subjects are delivered with some of the most immediate melodies of their career. Geddy Lee had long ago abandoned the Robert Plant wail that had drawn criticism since the band’s inception, instead adopting a smoother tenor perfectly suited to these upbeat songs. The album’s trump card is “Middletown Dreams,” a near-perfect paean to small-town America with one of the best choruses Rush has ever written. Even songs such as “The Big Money” and “Grand Designs” that layer on the ‘80s synthesizers are powered by indelible melodies.

Rush has always occupied an odd place in popular culture—they’re one of the most commercially successful bands in rock history (with more consecutive gold and platinum records than anyone except the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and KISS), and have a few songs (“Tom Sawyer,” “The Spirit of Radio”) that are nearly as ubiquitous on classic-rock stations as “Stairway to Heaven,” but they are almost nonexistent in the critical pantheon of great rock bands of the ‘70s and ‘80s. Even when they are given mainstream props, it is always somewhat backhanded. Albums like “Power Windows,” a winning mix of prog-rock chops and new-wave melodies, that exemplify why Rush’s middle- to late-period work deserves a serious critical reappraisal.

by Sean