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Rating:
In 1987 we were there and we remember everything perfectly. The music world was watching closely, ready with the most critical grin. Roger Waters had left the band some years ago, and not on good terms: fiery interviews, criticism upon criticism (with some delusions of grandeur that still don't leave him today and that, in the end, make him somewhat likeable...) as well as a ruthless court battle for the use of the group’s name (which he naturally lost). The immediately preceding Pink records, although beautiful, were in every way “Waters’ delusions”. The participation of the others in the compositions was reduced to a minimum (especially in The Final Cut) and the use of Gilmour & Co. as mere instrumentalists would have seemed to anyone like a waste, and probably a waste on a timer...
Almost twenty years have passed since then, and they've moved a few stones on top too, if they showed up at Live8 all together, for the irrepressible enthusiasm of us die-hard fans, and everything can be said to have changed. So how to evaluate now, today, this album, with a cool head?
Gilmour takes the lead, writing all the tracks on the record (some alone, some with others who were not, however, the other two Pink), Mason simply—so to speak—plays the drums and Wright appears only as an instrumentalist, not even as an effective member of the band.
Everything suggested the third solo album by David, disguised as something else.
And yet no: the album is, in my opinion, beautiful and different, wonderfully played and decidedly well-written. Certainly, there isn’t the social commitment of Waters, nor his beautiful mad voice always a step away from a divine discord. But the album exists. Oh yes, it does.
The bass parts are entrusted to the skillful fingers of Tony Levin, and nothing more needs to be said. Gilmour's guitar, over the last thirty years and more, has never missed a beat (even at Live8 it was the only thing still whole at 100%...) and his voice, powerful and husky, has perhaps never been so beautiful.
And everything is incredibly “Floydian”, from the disturbing cover to the instrumental parts and, first and foremost, to the atmospheres.
Here it is: after almost twenty years, it's nice to listen to and remember this album as an album of atmospheres, almost a school of “Floydianism”, impeccable and perfect from every point of view as only its guitarist/conductor can be.
There is no need to dwell on the songs. The album is musically a “concept album” that should be listened to in one go, from start to finish, preferably with means that do justice to the sounds. Only to give vent to subjectivity will I say that I personally prefer Learning To Fly and One Slip to the other tracks, but very relatively...
My personal advice is to listen to it again before making a statement. I also remembered it differently, and in my judgment—as everyone—I was a slave to the vision of the 80s-90s Pink, those of the gigantic shows at Versailles and Venice, and those of too many musicians on stage. Take off these clothes, if you’re wearing them as I was, and sit down to listen to this album comfortably on your couch, as if you didn’t know it and it was the first time. It deserves it. Because it is the best work of the period without Waters and, above all, because it is beautiful in itself.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
02 Learning to Fly (04:53)
Into the distance, a ribbon of black
Stretched to the point of no turning back
A flight of fancy on a windswept field
Standing alone my senses reeled
A fatal attraction holding me fast
How can I escape this irresistible grasp?
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound misfit, I
Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything
No navigator to find my way home
Unladened, empty and turned to stone
A soul in tension that's learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I
Above the planet on a wing and a prayer,
My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air,
Across the clouds I see my shadow fly
Out of the corner of my watering eye
A dream unthreatened by the morning light
Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night
There's no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, a state of bliss
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I
10 Sorrow (08:46)
The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land
Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:
A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,
But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking
He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise
In his youth or a dream, he can't be precise
He's chained forever to a world that's departed
It's not enough, it's not enough
His blood has frozen & curdled with fright
His knees have trembled & given way in the night
His hand has weakened at the moment of truth
His step has faltered
One world, one soul
Time pass, the river rolls
And he talks to the river of lost love and dedication
And silent replies that swirl invitation
Flow dark and troubled to an oily sea
A grim intimation of what is to be
There's an unceasing wind that blows through this night
And there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sight
And silence that speaks so much louder that words,
Of promises broken
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Other reviews
By valeriozappa
When fantasy and inspiration end, a band has an obligation to close shop.
‘Sorrow’ was a fitting title for a song and as a finale for a record, which was a true sorrow for me to listen to.
By pros12
The "Pink Floyd sound" is David Gilmour.
When listening to an album, one must listen, feel what is there, and not what is not there.
By Joe Cavalli
Done with energy and lightness. Anti-Final Cut to the core deliberately. And more sold.
For that wonderful September 1st, 1987, the release day of the CD and my 20th birthday.
By Breus
"It doesn’t take an expert to understand that Gilmour...had planned the right ingredients and dosages to ensure a safe return to the scene."
"Pieces like 'Dogs of War' are really embarrassing, as well as unlistenable."
By claudio carpentieri
"Not bad for the new Gilmour management which produces an album that has all the credentials to try, respectfully, to honor the past while respecting the present."
"A Momentary Lapse Of Reason draws the Pink Floydian vision from Gilmour’s viewpoint, who, as the main protagonist, tries in every way (and succeeds) to produce an album with a clearly familiar sound."
