There isn't much respect for the post-Waters Pink Floyd... or at least there isn't much respect from the critics... there isn't much respect from the purists... and there isn't much respect from the early Floydian fans, the die-hard Barrettians or Watersians... well, in my opinion, to understand and appreciate this album, one must set aside prejudices... forget about that time when it was said that David Gilmour can't write lyrics... and that other time when it was said that David is not a great guitarist because "he is slow"... or that other time when it was rumored that Nick Mason and Rick Wright are just two lucky opportunists who exploit the talent of others... one must let it all go and listen... it's true, Roger Waters is not in this album, his talent and expressive coherence are missing... his voice is missing and so is his "gritty" bass playing style... but there is much more... there are the atmospheres created by David Gilmour's guitar, always majestic whether he is wielding the Stratocaster, indulging in the acoustic guitar ("Lost For Words"), or playing the slide (the instrumental "Maroneed" and "High Hopes", the nostalgic piece dedicated to his native Cambridge that beautifully closes the album), there is Rick Wright's compositional rebirth (previously the author of "Us & Them" and "The Great Gig In The Sky") who, in addition to coloring the entire album with his proverbial organ and keyboard strokes, personally signs the introverted "Wearing The Inside Out"... there are more than sixty minutes of music played splendidly, without a note out of place. In conclusion, "The Division Bell" may not be a masterpiece, but it is an album far from tired or devoid of musical ideas... certainly worthy of closing, in great style, a magnificent career like that of the Floyd.
"For this reason, according to me, it’s the most genuine Floyd album since the time of Wish You Were Here."
It’s a glorious and rhetorical déjà-heard, a well-restored re-edition of the 30-year career of Pink Floyd.
"The Division Bell presents music that is more spontaneous, more immediate, which doesn’t try forcibly to be experimental, but offers the listener beautiful melodies in their simplicity."
"The perfect 'High Hopes' closes the album fading on the notes of Gilmour’s superb solo. Isn’t that enough?"
Arguments. Despair. Incommunicability. Apathy. Intolerance. Regrets, remorse, cold wind.
And if indeed in an endless waiting countryside you feel tethered again to concreteness by a guitar solo, by an organ or whatever, then let this record be your beacon, in this immediate modernity.