When Rush was finally inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2013, fans all over the world felt it was long overdue. The Canadian trio — Geddy Lee, Neil Peart, and Alex Lifeson — had spent decades building a reputation as one of the most talented and influential progressive rock bands ever. If anyone deserved a spot in the Hall, it was them.
The ceremony started off strong. Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins introduced the band with a lot of excitement and humor. Geddy Lee and Neil Peart gave sincere, heartfelt speeches about their journey, the people they worked with, and the fans who supported them. Everything seemed normal… until it was Alex Lifeson’s turn to speak.
Instead of giving a traditional thank-you speech, Lifeson walked up to the microphone and simply started saying:
“Blah, blah, blah.”
And then he kept going.
For over two minutes, he delivered a dramatic, expressive, and sometimes hilarious “blah, blah, blah” performance, using different tones, gestures, and body language to act out an entire speech — without saying a single real word. The audience slowly realized it was a joke, and laughter filled the room.
But behind the scenes, things were a little tense.
Geddy and Neil had no idea Lifeson was planning this. They had just given their own emotional speeches, and at first, they were confused and even annoyed. Later, Lifeson admitted that he came up with the idea earlier in the day during rehearsal. He had tried to memorize a long speech, got frustrated, and thought, “Why not just go up there and say ‘blah, blah, blah’?”
Even his wife didn’t like the idea, but he did it anyway.
The next day, though, everything changed. Neil Peart emailed him to apologize, saying he had been wrong to be upset. Friends and fans were reaching out, telling him the speech was hilarious and memorable. What started as a risky joke ended up becoming one of the most iconic and beloved moments in Rush’s history.
In the end, Lifeson’s speech made a point too: award shows often feel stiff, overly serious, and filled with predictable thank-yous. His playful “blah, blah, blah” cut through all that and reminded everyone that rock music is supposed to be fun, rebellious, and a little unpredictable.
Today, Rush fans still look back at that moment with a smile. It wasn’t disrespectful — it was pure Alex Lifeson: funny, creative, and impossible to forget.