STACK July 2017 Issue 153

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14 JULY 2017
visit MUSIC FEATURE
It's never just a bunch of songs
with Roger Waters. Since Pink
Floyd's The Dark Side of the Moon,
really; certainly since Animals and
The Wall, and reaching a cinematic
zenith with 1992's solo album
Amused To Death , it's an enraged
savaging of human folly. A sonic
blitz that's part pacifist's protest,
part wartime radio play, and no
part whatsoever toe-tapping
singalong. Like a bad penny,
the familiar thematic gist of this
60-minute double LP turns up
halfway through side B. "When
World War II was over/ Though
the slate was never wiped clean/
We could have picked over those
broken bones/ We could have been
free." The last cadence falls with
the sadness of 70 long years of
grim consequence. Sweet strings
spike the feeling like a silent tear at
a funeral.
It's to that tragedy of unfinished
history that Waters has always, and
doubtless will always return. He
was a baby, fans will know, when
his father was killed in that war.
Profound personal loss and hollow
political justification were forever
entwined on that day in 1944. And
let’s face it, political justification
sure stinks bad in 2017.
No surprise, then, the oscillation
between bitter resignation and
the one that you and I turn a deaf
ear to daily — sounds all the more
sickening when it comes in a shock
of splintering brick and glass at some
unsuspecting mother's kitchen sink.
With an opening song called Déjà
Vu, Waters makes no pretence about
breaking new musical or thematic
ground. The fact that its acoustic
strum, broken vocal and plangent
piano is so redolent of parts of
The Wall only endorses the weary
subtext of same shit/ different day.
It's the more urgent passages of
Wish You Were Here that spring to
mind in Picture That, a vicious list
song that gathers momentum with
a long series of ominous warzone
images: "Picture a shithouse with no
f---ing drains; Picture a leader with no
f---ing brains".
Old plot, sure, but with a new
generation of lead character. The
Most Beautiful Girl In The World
appears first in a dream sequence in
The Last Refugee: a remote object
of longing/ regret that personifies
collateral damage in waves of
innocence and anguish. She haunts
the narrative through to Side D's
climactic triptych: the lovely Wait
For Her/ Oceans Apart and the very
nearly redemptive Part Of Me Died.
Producer Nigel Godrich, best
known as the silent
member of Radiohead,
manages to keep the
arrangements surprisingly
austere, leaving most
of the bombast to the
3-D sound collages that
have long been central to
Waters' work. The idiot
babble of the current
US President makes an
inevitable appearance
among the ticking clocks,
half-heard telephone
conversations, chirpy
wireless voices, targeted
explosions and sinister
machinery.
Nobody expected to find the feel-
good hit of the year lurking between
these heavily redacted gatefold
covers, with their blood-red lyrics and
images of fighter planes, smug suits,
gasmasks and desperate children.
If it's the cosmic noodling aspect
of Pink Floyd's legacy you’re after,
David Gilmour is your man. At 73,
Roger Waters has less time than
ever for sweet dreams.
COLUMBIA/SONY
howling fury that propels what
can only be described as a bilious
shaming of What We Have
Become?
Tunes can be pretty, sure, but
only so that the juddering impact
of the drone missile — you know,
Roger Waters co-founded English rock legends Pink Floyd. After
leaving in 1985, he's reclaimed his hold over the band's legacy with
a series of spectacular tours. But his new solo album in 25 years —
a rock epic called Is This the Life We Really Want? — is a haunted,
savage beast. Words Michael Dwyer
Nobody expected the feel-good hit of the year lurking between
these heavily redacted gatefold covers, with their blood-red
lyrics and images of fighter planes.
Roger Waters:
bitter resignation,
howling fury.