Rewind Find; or Love the Psychedelic Owl ("Making Memories," by Rush)

A lot of people don't know Rush -- though some certainly do as, outside of the Stones and the Beatles, Rush has sold about as many albums as any band around. 2013 was something of the "Year of Rush" -- a well-received "rockumentary" (Beyond the Lighted Stage, 2010) reengaged the pop music public with a band that always had a significant following, helping to put the group in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  However, Rush never quite edged fully into the mainstream in the same way as other hard rock mavens like Boston and Kansas.  In part, the reason is that Rush was (in fact) less mainstream.  The group had a hint of art rock in it, à la Yes or King Crimson.  It had something to appeal to music school nerds; it's no coincidence the group almost single-handedly spawned the progressive metal movement represented today by groups like Dream Theater.  And well, the group didn't have too many classic albums; 1976's 2112, 1980's Permanent Waves, 1981's Moving Pictures and potentially -- potentially -- 2012's Clockwork Angels (it seems to be heading in that direction, anyway).  Admittedly, the Stones, the Beatles and Zeppelin produced that many classic albums in a few years time -- not a few decades time.

Still, Rush has its niche in pop culture.  For around four decades, the group kept at it with an angular, pseudo-prog hard rock, inspiring legions of air drummers and air guitarists.  They occasionally brought some intensely complex riffs to mainstream radio -- the opening arpeggio to "Spirit of Radio" and the drum fills in "Tom Sawyer" are prime examples.  At the start of it all, though, even after they got über rock god drummer Neil Peart (on their second album, Fly by Night, 1975), Rush still had a significant dose of Zeppelin, good 

-times-on-the-weekend band in them.  For a few minutes of hard rockin' and blowin' out your stereo speakers, check out Fly by Night's "Makin' Memories."  A sweet bouquet of mid-'70s head-bobbin' funkyness from a band that would nonetheless always give you a taste of the progressive monster chops yet to come.  If nothing else, you get to spend a few quality moments with the crazy they-only-made-it-in-the-'70s-shade-of-blue-the-seat-covers-in-my-Pinto-were-once-that-color psychedelic owl with glowing yellow eyes.  Tasty, dogs.  Tasty stuff.