MUSIC: Rush rules, OK?

    You might as well have a Tetris neck tattoo.
    Attending a Rush show, being a fan of the band, carries with it a certain stigma of geekitude, as if we all live in a room above our parents’ garage and are fluent in Klingon – hey, I reside in the basement, thank you very much, and they’re not mom and dad, they’re my “roommates.” 
    I used to goof on the band, too – it’s as easy as shoving a Girl Scout down a flight of stairs, what with Geddy Lee’s nasally whinny and an Ayn Rand-influenced back catalog that I once dismissed as pointy-headed pocket protector rock – but then I saw ‘em live, where the band grows walrus-sized tusks and sinks them right into those nerdier-than-thou stereotypes.
    Simply put, they’re one of the best arena rocks ever, loose and tight at once, progressive yet palatable, and a great band to soundtrack the downing of big plastic cups of beer.
    All this was reaffirmed by Rush’s rock ‘em sock ‘em stop at the Mandalay Bay on Saturday, which came less than a year after they tore the roof of the MGM Grand last summer.
    The setlist was mostly the same, save for four songs – “Ghost of a Chance” replaced “Entre Nous,” a knock ‘em dead one-two punch of a positively smokin’ “Red Barchetta” and “The Trees” were swapped in for “Secret Touch” and “Circumstances,” and the band dropped a cover of Eddie Cochran’s “Summertime Blues” for a wild-eyed take on “2112.”
    Though Rush has been kicking around for over 40 years now, their greatest skill is making even the most played-out classic rock staples – “Limelight,” “Tom Sawyer,” “The Spirit of Radio” – sound fresh every time out.
    Think you’d never want to hear “Freewill” again?
    Take it in live, where guitarist Alex Lifeson lunges into the tune like a pitbull with a steak dangling in front of its face, all whammy bar divebombs, while Lee metes out topsy turvy bass lines prone to more headfakes than an NBA point guard.     
    And then there’s drummer Neil Peart, one of the all-time greats, with the most one of the most stone-faced countenances ever.
    Seriously, when the dude plays, he wears the slightly bored, distracted look of a guy organizing his sock drawer after having downed a handful of horse tranquilizers.
    And this bunch has stamina, too.
    On Saturday, they played two sets, for three hours of music that mined heavily from the band’s latest disc, the brusque, searching “Snakes and Arrows,” which questions faith and man’s uncertainty with his position in the world, and was one of the better rock records of 2007.
    It’s a timely record from a band that’s steadily proving itself to be timeless.