PINK FLOYD

In 2014, Pink Floyd announced The Endless River, composed primarily of instrumental outtakes and experiments recorded during the Division Bell sessions. A small number of additions were made in 2013 to complete the album.

When this was announced, I set my expectations low. Gilmour had proven himself to be an inconsistent songwriter, and the prospect of something stitched together from leftover bits did not leave me optimistic.  

My initial reaction to The Endless River was, "Wow, this is surprisingly not-[&*!#]ty!" I then proceeded to not listen to it again until writing this essay six years later. That should tell you all you really need to know. It's passable instrumental space rock in small doses, but nothing makes this record noteworthy or worth revisiting. The ungainly length of this record is a hindrance, and it truly lives up to the endlessness promised in its name.

"Things Left Unsaid" is emblematic of many of the sins of this era of Pink Floyd. A dull synth drone acts as the backdrop to a slow, languid guitar line for four-and-a-half minutes. It's "Cluster One" trying to be the closing moments of "Shine on You Crazy Diamond". "It's What We Do" is an improvement, insofar as it has a pulse. This again feels like a weak, sterile attempt to recreate moments off "Shine on You Crazy Diamond". With this being an instrumental album, Roger Waters's presence isn't missed. He was never a standout bassist, as I've mentioned previously, and his playing almost always bled into the background as Wright and Gilmour took the lead. This album's flaccid opening movement closes with the brief "Ebb and Flow", which is all ebb and no flow.

"Sum" is the first place where the album does anything interesting. Wright's organ stutters in a way which evokes many of Floyd's best songs, including "Astronomy Domine". It's too long and lacks direction, but I'll take aimless jamming over aimless airiness. "Skins" is a callback to early cuts like "A Saucerful of Secrets" and "Up the Khyber" with Nick Mason's distinct, tom-heavy drumming style taking the lead. When a drum solo is the strongest cut on an album so far, that's usually not a good sign. "Anisina" is too sweet, and it feels like generic background music to be used in a heartwarming scene on a made-for-TV movie. I also hate the tone of the saxophone on this song.

Another brief, ambient piece?"The Lost Art of Conversation"?doesn't do much beyond occupy two minutes of time, but "On Noodle Street" is one of the better tracks on The Endless River. It's not particularly good in absolute terms, mind you, but enough happens on this brief cut to keep me interested. It's mellow and jazzy, but my ultimate assessment is simply "inoffensive."

"Night Light" harbors some darker, minor-key tones, and "Allons-y" finally gets something going with its bouncing rhythm and a guitar line that could have been one of the better songs on The Wall. "Autumn '68" is a pointless mini-fugue which leads back into the second half of "Allons-y". "Talkin' Hawkin'" features more vocal snippets from Stephen Hawking, and it's nice that this song has enough percussion to maintain an identifiable beat.

"Calling", which opens side 4 of this album, is an interesting collection of moody synthesizers. This one could have been workshopped into something better, but there are nuggets of good ideas here. "Eyes to Pearls" stays in the same neighborhood but with a bit more muscle, and "Surfacing" is one of the rare cuts to feel like a real song.

The one song with vocals?"Louder Than Words"?closes out The Endless River. It's a pretty typical Gilmour-era ballad. Soulful background singers in the chorus feel like a crutch, and the instrumentation doesn't do much to grab the listener. Giving credit where credit is due, the closing guitar solo is quite good.

Looking on this record with relatively fresh eyes, I find its immense bloat and frequent aimlessness hobble any other redeeming qualities. It isn't actively bad in most cases, but it's frequently downright anodyne. Oftentimes, boring is worse than bad. Ummagumma's studio disc is an ungodly, unfocused morass, but they at least were trying weird and different things. The Endless River is endlessly safe. It was a disappointing, unnecessary way for Pink Floyd to wrap up their career.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

The Division Bell was released in 1994 and is unquestionably the strongest of Floyd's three post-Waters albums. Rick Wright rejoined the band as a full member, and his contributions are both noticeable and appreciated.

The Division Bell, though, like many albums from the 1990s, is way, way too long. No longer constrained by the roughly 45 minutes you could comfortably fit on an LP, many bands of that era seemed to have been compelled to pump out hour-plus releases simply because they could. Just because a CD can hold 80 minutes, that doesn't mean you need to put 80 minutes of music on a CD.

This is immediately evident with the opener, "Cluster One". I get what they were going for, but this five-minute piece could have easily been shortened to one minute.

"What Do You Want from Me" is passable, kinda funkyish, and sorta-prog. (Look, prog was not in good shape in 1994.) The soulful background singers and over-the-top guitar flourishes sound a bit silly now, but in context, it's not bad.

"Poles Apart" is delightfully varied. The folkiness of the guitar is a nice change of pace, and the lyrics are some of Gilmour's better work. Bits could be seen as addressing either Roger Waters or Syd Barrett.

"Marooned" won Pink Floyd a Grammy for the first (and only) time, but Rush really should have won that year. The Simpsons was correct in its Grammy commentary. It's a strong, melodic instrumental, but it suffers from being culturally overhyped. Gilmour's guitarwork is overdone, and Mason's drumming is too restrained. The keyboard playing feels just (w)right, though.

Let's skip "A Great Day for Freedom". That song sucks. "Wearing the Inside Out" isn't amazing. It's a bit slow, and the saxophone is a bit much. However, it's Rick Wright's last lead vocal performance, and his first since "Stay" on Obscured by Clouds. (He shared vocal duties on "Time" and provided backing vocals on multiple songs on Wish You Were Here.) All things considered, this bit of melodrama is one of the better cuts on this record.

"Take It Back" should have been taken back, and "Coming Back to Life" should never have been given life in the first place. Both suffer from many late-'80s/early-'90s pop-rock ills and offer nothing new or interesting.

"Keep Talking" is pretty cool, and it features a fitting guest bit from Stephen Hawking's vocal synthesizer. It's jazzy yet spacy, but the soulful backup singers come off as something of a gimmick. "Lost for Words" isn't very strong, so let's skip that as well.

The Division Bell closes on "High Hopes", which was recorded after the rest of the album was completed. It's an overwrought but enjoyable cut. It makes multiple, conscious allusions to past Pink Floyd songs and albums. I can't denounce this song, but I can't fully endorse it either. I like this song, but it feels like it's trying too hard, it's too clever for its own good, and it's too self-aware.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

Where The Final Cut is often derided as a Roger Waters solo effort, I and others view A Momentary Lapse of Reason as a David Gilmour solo effort. Nick Mason's contributions to the album were minimal, and multiple outside songwriters were utilized.

Pink Floyd founding member Rick Wright was hired on as a session musician (legal issues blocked him from fully rejoining the band), but he barely did anything. By the time he had been brought on, most keyboard parts had already been recorded.

As I've mentioned at least twice now, A Momentary Lapse of Reason, released in 1987, is not a good album. However, it's stronger by a mile than The Final Cut and only marginally weaker The Wall. It has a few good songs, but its bad points are really, really bad.

AMLOR opens with "Signs of Life", an unfocused, meandering, but undeniably Floydian instrumental. This is followed by "Learning to Fly", the big single off the album. I was never the biggest fan of this song, as it feels like a ton of '80s cheese, but it's better than anything other than "Not Now John" off The Final Cut. For as much as I criticize the bluntness of Waters's lyrics, he's miles better than Gilmour with words, and even Gilmour's outside help can't write much of anything compelling.

Jesus, The Final Cut really set the bar low. At least I can write about the individual tracks on AMLOR.

"The Dogs of War" is one hell of a mixed bag. It's got a simple but imposing string motif the lends an air of doom and gloom. Gilmour's vocal performance is strong, and the song's overall starkness works well in its first half. But then the drums come in, and with them, super cheesy organ, guitar, and saxophone, all of which only cheapen the experience.

"One Slip" starts off as a pretty cool Mike Oldfield song, but it quickly turns into typical late-'80s art-schlock. There are some neat musical ideas here, but there's too much bloat and gloss to make it worthwhile.

"On the Turning Away" sounds like an outtake from The Wall, and I emphatically do not mean that as a compliment. It's not bad, but it's overly sentimental and too long. "Yet Another Movie" contrasts this quality by being needlessly grim and solemn, but I'll take that as an improvement.

The Vocoded spoken word of "A New Machine" is oddly alluring; it's disappointing that it doesn't lead to anything interesting. Gilmour's got a great voice, and feeding it through this synth makes for a unique atmosphere. But nothing special comes of it.

"Terminal Frost" is pure garbage, but "Sorrow" is pretty cool. Imposing, icy guitar looms over everything, and that harsh sterility is used to build ambiance. Sequenced synthesizers, understated rhythm guitar, and distant vocals are all hallmarks of Gilmour-Floyd (Gilmoyd? Gilmoyd.), and this is one of the highlights of this particular lineup.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

It's confession time. Prior to writing this retrospective, I'd never heard The Final Cut (Pink Floyd's 1983 follow-up to The Wall) in its entirety. And after listening to it, I wish I hadn't.

The album isn't without its enjoyable moments. "Not Now John" is a pretty good song. "The Hero's Return" sounds like a weaker sequel to "Run Like Hell", and...and...and good God, I tried to find a third thing about this album I could give even back-handed praise to, but I couldn't. This record is one of the worst [&*!#] sandwiches I've ever heard.

Most of it is like a worse version of the worst parts of The Wall. It's simultaneously over-orchestrated and thin and weak-sounding. Roger Waters's vocals are exceptionally strained, and this 43-minute release feels like it's three times its actual length.

This is the only Pink Floyd album to not feature Rick Wright, and his presence is sorely missed. Nick Mason's drumming is so anemic he may as well not even be there, and David Gilmour's guitar parts are uninspired. Longtime Pink Floyd album cover artist Storm Thorgerson hadn't been utilized on The Wall, but that album has fitting artwork. In contrast, his absence is acutely felt here. This [&*!#]ty, ugly cover was designed by Waters himself, unsurprisingly.

Gilmour complained that Waters mostly brought material which the band thought was too weak for The Wall to the recording sessions, but he had nothing to contribute either. Thus, Waters was allowed to fully dominate the album. The lyrics on The Final Cut feel genuine, but the music is incredibly half-assed and lazy. It feels as if there was a general who-gives-a-[&*!#] malaise over the band.

The Final Cut was originally envisioned as the soundtrack for the film adaptation of The Wall, but the outbreak of the Falklands War prompted Waters to rewrite the material as an anti-war concept album.

Roger Waters is the premier example of a musician whose politics I broadly agree with but who I wish would keep politics out of his music. Animals was an exception, and that was more sociology than politics. Roger Waters's political music is [%*!#]ing garbage. Jesus Christ, shut the [%*!#] up, Roger.

The Final Cut is an embarrassing, abject failure. Dr. Zoidberg really summed this album up well when he said, "Your music's bad, and you should feel bad!"

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

**The Wall Is a Middling Album, and This Is a Hill I'm Willing to Die On**

This part of the essay is a bit I've been eagerly anticipating writing for a long time. And if one were to scroll through my personal Reddit account, one could find embryonic versions of the ensuing discussion.

The title of this section is a thesis I've long proclaimed. Setting aside lyrics for the moment?I will get to that?the music on The Wall is woefully inconsistent. There are gems buried in here, but much of the record is plodding and monotonous. There's a pretty decent 40-minute album buried in this 82-minute slog of bloat and self-indulgence.

I've stated many a time on this site that I'm not a lyrically-focused individual. In general, I like the sound of the human voice, and I like the structure of human language, so I prefer music with lyrics to instrumental pieces, all else being equal. However, bad lyrics can hurt otherwise-good music, as can a bad vocal delivery. Roger Waters was never a strong vocalist, and his delivery is especially weak on much of this record. 

The lyrics on much of The Wall are bad, and they're delivered in an impossible-to-ignore way. To start, the main conceit of the album is not a strong concept. "I'm so isolated, I feel like I'm behind a wall," is not a particularly new or unique idea, and it's not presented in a very interesting way. It comes off as whiny and full of self-pity. While relatable, this narrative presented in a facile and achingly unoriginal way. The story?adapted from a much more explicitly autobiographical first draft?is overwrought.

The compositions tend to be either blandly spare or needlessly over-orchestrated, and things certainly weren't helped by the band members' deteriorating personal relationships during recording. A combination of depression (stemming largely from a failing marriage) and a falling-out with Roger Waters led to Rick Wright being fired from the band. He was hired on as a session musician for the tour, however.

Wright's reduced input is obvious, as most keyboard parts on The Wall are plain and simplistic. Jazz is noticeably less prominent as well, as Wright often was the one bringing in those uncommon chords on prior compositions. It's Gilmour who carries the instrumental aspects of this album without Wright. Waters was never a standout bassist, and Mason's drumming is so restrained that even Ringo could have pulled it off.

The Wall also suffers from an abundance of sound effects. Snippets of conversation are littered throughout the album, and it often stretches decent two-minute songs to interminable four-minute lengths. The constant background chatter becomes draining. Contrast this to Dark Side, where conversational snippets were smoothly integrated into the fabric of the music. On The Wall, these elements feel hastily and thoughtlessly slapped on.

The individual songs were composed almost entirely by Roger Waters, with only four of the 26 tracks having a credited co-writer. And unsurprisingly, those four songs are some of the strongest on the whole record, demonstrating that Waters usually needed outside input.

"In the Flesh?" opens the album, and it's a bit of a mixed bag. If I weren't told this was a Pink Floyd song, I'd think it was fine. It's Stygian, prog-ish arena rock, but it's nothing to write home about. I do like the soulful backing vocals, but everything else here is either way too much or not nearly enough. That is to say, it's an odd mixture of overblown and unambitious. "The Thin Ice" features an uncharacteristically weak vocal performance from David Gilmour, and the piano-and-synth backing is underbaked, a quality which most of the record suffers from.

"Another Brick in the Wall (Part 1)" is the strongest of the three parts of this song. It's got genuine menace, and the sense of isolation and abandonment is palpable. Unfortunately, this mood isn't upheld in either of the following tracks. "The Happiest Days of Our Lives" is a weird, unfocused prelude to what follows. It's more sound effects than substantive music, and the many ideas jammed into this sub-two-minute cut feel disjointed. "Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)" meanwhile suffers from the irredeemable ill of a child choir and half-assed white-boy faux-funk.

"Mother" is uneven. A not-insignificant portion of this cut is folky, singer-songwriter bull[&*!#] that I simply don't like. Once "Mother" gets going, though, it's not a bad composition. It's not great, but this solid-C+ cut is a relative strong point on The Wall.

The Wall has some oddball tracks which I really love. "Goodbye Blue Sky" is one of those. It combines wonky folk motifs with sinister synthesizers and opaque-enough-to-be-good lyrics to make something compelling.

"Empty Spaces" is more notable for its stupid backmasked message than for anything else. It's an aimless, forgettable interlude which could have been trimmed from two minutes to 30 seconds. ("What Shall We Do Now?" was an inexplicable exclusion. Originally placed after "Empty Spaces", it was quite a strong 90-second piece, and The Wall would have been stronger to include it.) "Young Lust" also overstays its welcome. Co-written by David Gilmour, this song is a send-up of late-'70s bluesy sex songs. It's another alright cut, but the premise wears thin by track's end.

"One of My Turns" is one of the great successes of The Wall. It aptly conveys the sense of desperation and mania the Waters was striving to portray, and though it's rather unimpressively played, its internal diversity is strong enough to let it stand on its own. Sadly, this is followed by what is likely the worst slog on the album. "Don't Leave Me Now" has Waters warbling off-key over atonal organ chords in a hazy torpor of uninteresting depression for four punishing minutes.

Disc one of The Wall ends with the perfectly passable duo of "Another Brick in the Wall (Part 3)" and "Goodbye Cruel World". Neither is particularly noteworthy: the former is a slightly more energetic rehash of Part 1; the latter is a dull-but-short organ-and-bass dirge.

Thankfully, disc two is markedly stronger than disc one.

"Hey You" is a standout on The Wall, but if it had been on Wish You Were Here, it would have been underwhelming. It isn't a bad song by any means, but it does fall victim to many traps of late-'70s arena rock which I have a distaste for. In addition to being generically overblown at parts, the production is a bit much for me here. Gilmour's solo is decent, but its backing track is repetitious and uninteresting. The organ is too dramatic during those moments, as well. This song thrives in its quieter moments.

Unfortunately, Roger Waters can't let us have two consecutive good songs on this record, it seems. "Is There Anybody Out There?" begins as a dull synth drone, but its second half features more interesting acoustic elements. "Nobody Home" is a track I have an unjustifiable soft spot for. It's a simple piano-based piece with big, warm swells of string and brass that feel almost embarrassingly earnest.

"Vera" is simply pointless. Let's skip this one. Y'know what, let's also skip "Bring the Boys Back Home". Christ, these two messes made it in but "What Shall We Do Now?" was cut? Revisiting The Wall is simply reinforcing my anti-Roger Waters bias.

Finally, we're getting to the good part of The Wall. "Comfortably Numb", on paper, suffers from many of the symptoms of bloat which I'd normally decry on this record. The simple playing and overly lush sound palette would usually be red flags, but the melody has drama to it, and the song has an understandable arc. Gilmour's masterful closing solo certainly doesn't hurt either. (For a truly amazing rendition of that solo, listen to the live version of this song from 1994's Pulse.)

"The Show Must Go On" is nice and warm, if forgettable, and "In the Flesh" is a pointless retread of the album's opening track.

"Run Like Hell", however, is an amazing, energetic, anxious track. It's both claustrophobic in its tight rhythm and wide-open with its guitar tones. It truly evokes the feeling of sprinting from some danger. Waters's snarled delivery is befitting. This song features Rick Wright's one solo on the album, but it's a strong one. Though not particularly technical, the wobbling insecurity of his synth suits the subject matter well.

One of the weirdest tracks on The Wall is "Waiting for the Worms". It's full of allusions to the preceding songs, and the oddball vocal deliveries suit everything wonderfully. It's thumping and lurching and scary, though it's also got some of the most beat-you-over-the-head obvious lyrics on a famously straightforward record.

After the 30-second piano interlude of "Stop", "The Trial" is another strong, wonderful oddball cut. There's a Vaudevillian theatricality here that is absent elsewhere in Floyd's output. The song's sheer weirdness is what saves it. The lyrics continue the trend of ditching any semblance of artfulness, but everything is so odd and surprising, I can't help but love it. "Outside the Wall", which closes the album, feels like an afterthought and makes no lasting impression.

A few paragraphs ago (or maybe a few dozen, it feels like), I mentioned I felt that there was a decent 40-minute album buried in this unfocused mess. Coming from my lyrically-deemphasized standpoint, here is my proposal for an improved, abbreviated tracklist. Certain songs would need to be trimmed down, and those songs have been noted with asterisks. If they were to be taken as-is, this The Wall would wind up north of 50 minutes. Seeing the tracklist now, I'm not sure I could whittle it down to 40 minutes, but 45 seems totally reasonable.

My Streamlined Wall

In the Flesh?* Another Brick in the Wall (Part 1)* Mother* Goodbye Blue Sky What Shall We Do Now? Young Lust* One of My Turns Hey You* Nobody Home Comfortably Numb Run Like Hell Waiting for the Worms The Trial

Lyrics would need to be rewritten if you wanted the story to make sense, but unlike my view on films, I don't need a coherent plot in my music.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

Animals, Pink Floyd's 1977 release, saw Roger Waters dominate the songwriting even more than on the previous releases. David Gilmour only co-wrote one of the three big suites, and neither Mason nor Wright received any songwriting credits.

Loosely based on George Orwell's Animal Farm, Animals is a concept album about the socio-political state of Britain in the mid-1970s. Waters's lyrics became increasingly on-the-nose here, but it wasn't yet distracting. If anything, they work quite well in this instance, and the songs on Animals are some of the band's best.

Animals is bookended by a pair of brief acoustic pieces titled "Pigs on the Wing". On the 8-track release of this album, these two cuts were stitched into one piece, with a guitar solo by session musician Snowy White acting as a bridge between the halves.

"Dogs" was cowritten by David Gilmour, the only non-Waters songwriting credit on the album. This song starts off with a dark folk backbone, rolling along steadily. Rapid, acoustic strumming and quiet organ and synth provide a subtle backdrop for Gilmour's strong vocal performance. After a brief, mildly bluesy instrumental interlude, "Dogs" enters its extended, down-tempo midsection. There's a signature plaintive Gilmourian guitar solo, and Nick Mason's drumming is restrained but artful.

It's around the 8-minute mark of "Dogs" that Animals hits its one big snag. The drawn-out section of synth drone and dog sound effects overstays its welcome by a significant margin, and it could have been significantly shortened. In the final minutes, though, the opening theme is revisited with Waters on vocals and a wonderful twist on the lyrics.

"Pigs (Three Different Ones)" is the song with lyrics that have aged the worst. They're unsubtly about mid-'70s British politics. The general sentiment is discernible, but many of the specific details will be lost on listeners who don't do their reading. It's also my least favorite of the three opuses on Animals, but being the weakest song on Animals is like being the worst type of non-pineapple pizza. It's still pretty good.

There's a laid-back, funky grooviness to much of the song. This is what "Have a Cigar" strove for but failed to deliver on. "Pigs" carries an air of self-satisfied smugness which suits the subject matter so well. Gilmour's use of a talkbox is handled quite well. That's a tool which is often mis- and over-used, but it's deployed tactfully here.

Animals closes on my favorite of the three main tracks. "Sheep" is a snarling, biting cut that was (sadly) Rick Wright's last huzzah as a soloist. The languid, jazzy opening piano solo is the perfect lead-in to the charging verses. The guitar (played by Waters) slashes aggressively, Wright's organ swirls like a hurricane, and the bass (played by Gilmour) thumps and pounds.

The midsection of "Sheep" features big, bright synthesizers that complement the other instruments to build an anxious atmosphere. The vocoded pastiche of Psalm 23 is a little silly for my taste and presaged some of Waters's most brutally unsubtle songwriting tactics which would crest on Pink Floyd's next two albums. Still, it's a forgivable sin in this context.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

Many consider their 1975 follow-up, Wish You Were Here to be equal to Dark Side, but that's a point where I disagree. It's a very strong album, but it does have a few glaring flaws which drag it down.

Roger Waters again penned all the lyrics, and he had a hand in the composition of each song, as well, though songwriting remained an overall collaborative effort. The album's concept is based on the band's experience in the music industry, and its quality varies somewhat.

WYWH opens with the first five parts of the 26-minute "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" suite. It begins with droning synths and a delicate, clean guitar solo. This movement dissolves into an expansive, four-note arpeggio which builds into a sinister, psychedelic blues jam. This particular instrumental passage overstays its welcome a little bit, but it eventually does a good job of transitioning into the verses. The verses are some of Waters's strongest compositions and a loving ode to Syd Barrett. The closing sax solo channels the best moments of Dark Side and is a fitting wrap-up to this first half of the suite.

"Welcome to the Machine" is my favorite song on the album, and it might be my overall favorite song by the band. This menacing, pulsing synthesizer experiment contrasts the harsh sterility of the music against the bitter, plaintive vocals. Acoustic guitar bites brilliantly against the electronic tones, and Nick Mason's restrained drumming complements it perfectly.

This masterpiece is then followed by "Have a Cigar", undoubtedly the weakest track on the album. The faux-funkiness of the backing track feels tepid, and guest vocalist Roy Harper sounds strained.

The album's title track is next, and I've got somewhat mixed feelings on it. In isolation, it's a very good song. The folk and country tones of the main guitar line suit the lyrics and vocal delivery, and the warm synth tones in the outro are very nice. But in the context of this album, it feels out of place. This doesn't sound like a Pink Floyd song, and this track's earthiness and rawness clashes against the lusher sound palettes of the other cuts.

The second half of "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" wraps up the remainder of the album, and it's overall stronger than the first half. The introductory movement revisits ideas from the first half, this time with a bit more purpose. It isn't quite as wandering, and Rick Wright's synth solo is a highlight. This section feels like a slightly updated version of "One of These Days", and it's some of the band's best in-studio jamming. More funk touches come in after the verse, and these experiments feel less forced than on "Have a Cigar". The song's final movement is piano-and-synth-centric, and the very final moments have a rich hopefulness to them.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

Pink Floyd had started to record The Dark Side of the Moon in mid-1972, and they released it in March 1973. To say this album was a commercial hit would be a gross understatement. It spent seven years on the British charts (despite never hitting number one) and twice as long on the American charts. Depending on the source of the numbers, Dark Side is somewhere between the twelfth- and fourth-best-selling record of all time.

It's not difficult to see why this record was such an immense hit. Every little aspect of this record works in perfect harmony with everything else. The songs are smooth yet powerful, and the frequent integration of jazz and soul influences are seamless and sublime. This album is right up there with Revolver and Thick as a Brick as contenders for my personal favorite album of all time. I find no flaws in this release.

The Dark Side of the Moon also represented the beginning of Roger Waters's increasing domination of Pink Floyd's songwriting. The overarching concept of Dark Side was his idea, and he penned all the lyrics, though the music remained a group effort.

The brief instrumental "Speak to Me" opens Dark Side with a gradually-building collage of sound effects and voice recordings over an insistent rhythm reminiscent of a heartbeat. This resolves in a soulful scream and a segue into the mellow, flowing "Breathe". "On the Run" follows. It's a nervous instrumental which highlights the looping sequences of the VCS 3 synthesizer.

"Time" is one of Pink Floyd's best-known songs for good reason. The opening cacophony of clocks and ensuing slow build to the verse are perfect. The verses have a biting, bitter edge to them, and Rick Wright's soothing vocals contrast to Gilmour's harsher tones. This song's guitar solo is yet another of David Gilmour's many highlights, and the reincorporation of the theme from "Breathe" is nothing short of masterful.

"The Great Gig in the Sky" closes out Side 1. Richard Wright's jazzy piano chords and swirling organ provide the instrumental backbone of this track. The true star, though, are the magnificent, wordless vocals provided by Clare Torry. Her wailing is at once soulful and sorrowful. They are some of the most evocative vocals in all of rock music, and this is accomplished with zero actual words.

Torry was initially paid £30 for her contributions (approximately £400/$500 in 2021 money), but she sued for co-authorship credits in 2004. The case was eventually settled out of court, but all pressings of the album since 2005 have listed "The Great Gig in the Sky" as a Wright/Torry co-composition.

Following the one gap in the music on Dark Side, "Money" opens up side two. Likely the best-known song written 7/4 time, this track has a strong blues backbone. The twangy bass, bright electric piano, and striking sax solo all add to this track's character. Gilmour's guitar solo is played in the more-straightforward 4/4 time signature, imbuing this section with a more driving, hard-rocking feel. (Gilmour self-deprecatingly jokes that Waters had to "dumb down" the time signature to something easier for him.)

"Us and Them" is a slow-moving, jazzy cut. It's too densely layered to be described as "airy," but that descriptor isn't far off. The chorus is immensely dramatic and dark in sharp opposition to the light verses. The segue into "Any Colour You Like"?a criminally underrated instrumental?is sudden but welcome. Rick Wright's many layers of delayed synthesizers glimmer and slither over a funky backing beat. All the while, Gilmour's guitar is somehow both watery and sharp.

The closing "Brain Damage/Eclipse" is six of the strongest minutes in the history of rock music. The guitar in "Brain Damage" is slightly askew, and the gently-uttered lyrics are brilliant. "Eclipse" takes the slightly-off, dreamlike atmosphere of the preceding song and explodes into impactful, tumbling, eruptive climax.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

In 1972, Pink Floyd recorded the soundtrack for the French film La Vallée, a project of director Barbet Schroeder, who had been the driving force behind More. After scoring More, Pink Floyd had agreed to score his next film, as well. Recording had already begun for The Dark Side of the Moon, but the band temporarily paused that work in order to conduct some hurried sessions for the film. Some underlying DNA of Dark Side can be detected here, especially in Rick Wright's VCS 3 synthesizer, shorter song structures, and jazzy inclusions. The rushed nature of the recording is obvious, though, as this record feels scattershot and inconsistent to a degree which cannot be easily explained away by dint of it being a soundtrack. Obscured by Clouds contains no bad songs, but it feels notably incoherent when digested as a single work.

"Obscured by Clouds" is a moody, droning instrumental track which segues seamlessly into the bombastic "When You're In". The latter song is enjoyable, but it feels awfully long considering it two-and-a-half minute runtime. This isn't helped by the song's minute-long fade-out.

"Burning Bridges" is, funnily enough, a bridge between Pink Floyd's past and future sounds. Dreamy, late '60s psychedelic flavors blend with smart, jazzy influences, and this song is yet another example of how Wright's and Gilmour's voices worked so well together. Many of the instrumental motifs present here are also utilized in the instrumental "Mudmen".

"The Gold It's in The..." is atypical of Pink Floyd's sound. It's almost as if "The Nile Song" had been written more like a pop song. It's hard-rocking, groovy, and guitar-centric. While enjoyable, it doesn't feel much like a Pink Floyd song. In contrast to this high energy piece, the next cut is "Wot's...Uh the Deal?". It's a slow-moving folky piece and one of the strongest on the record.

Side 2 opens with "Childhood's End", which sounds like a rough draft of "Time". Had I heard this back when it was initially released in 1972, I'm positive I would have adored it. But having heard "Time" first, this track feels like a demo. This reverse-self-rip-off is followed by the most unique track on the album. "Free Four" is downright jaunty and features significant folk and country influences. The lyrics are strongly reminiscent of what would be addressed on Dark Side, but the lighter feel is distinct. Rick Wright's evil-sounding VSC 3 is a sharp contrast to the bouncy acoustic guitar.

"Stay" is Side 2's answer to "Burning Bridges". This Wright composition leans heavily on jazz and soul and slinks along smoothly. And much as Side 1 ended on an instrumental, Side 2 closes on "Absolutely Curtains". This six-minute piece allows organ and synthesizer to build an oppressive atmosphere, complemented by Nick Mason's spare drumming. It closes with a field recording of the Mapuga people of New Guinea, which was taken from the film.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/

Meddle, released in late 1971, saw Pink Floyd's best-known sound taking shape. The instrumental "One of These Days" opens the album. The powerful, reverberating bassline propels the song as stabs of organ, twisting guitar, and the odd strike of percussion continue to build. The unusual effect on the bass acts as an instrument unto itself, particularly in the slower midsection. The song's final two minutes explode with searing guitar and warbling organ.

"A Pillow of Winds" follows this striking opener. While I'd argue that this song fits into the overall flow of the record, its slow, folky composition pales in comparison to the highlights on Meddle. "Fearless" maintains a similar sound palette, but the melody is more engaging, and the inclusion of drumming keeps the momentum up.

Side 1 ends on a pair of less-than-impressive tracks. "San Tropez" is a lightweight, jazzy piece, and "Seamus" is a brief, forgettable bit of acoustic blues with a howling dog in the background.

What everyone knows Meddle for, though, is the closing opus: "Echoes". Covering all of side 2 and clocking in at over 23 minutes, this is one of Pink Floyd's indisputable masterpieces. From the opening pinging piano notes, which evoke a satellite calling out from the icy void of space, the song gradually builds while Nick Mason's drums complement the grand-sounding organ.

Gilmour and Wright harmonize their vocals on this song, giving a gentle, dreamy atmosphere. The chorus swells gracefully before dissolving into a dramatic, downward guitar riff. Following the second verse, the song enters an extended instrumental period. At first, it's a natural extension of the post-chorus guitar solo, but the structure shifts, subtly at first, as the solo builds in intensity.

Around the 7-minute mark, "Echoes" enters a funkier, groovier movement. The irregular stabs of Hammond organ add depth behind Gilmour's bend-filled, bluesy soloing. After a few minutes, the song enters its well-known "whale song" section. Amid a sparse and ominous backdrop, Gilmour's guitar wails and squeals sharply.

These few minutes of eerie atmospherics gradually give way to an extended crescendo. Farfisa organ and a few more piano pings reestablish the opening atmosphere. Light cymbals and muted guitar and bass propel the movement as Rick Wright plays an organ solo over top of it. At 18 minutes, this section reaches its climax. David Gilmour unleashes a magnificent, glimmering arpeggio before dissolving into a third verse. The final few minutes feature one more masterful guitar solo before the song quietly fades out.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2021/03/01/deep-dive-pink-floyd/