If someone told you to jump off a cliff, would you listen to them?
What a ridiculous question!
Yes, but if critics tell you that an album is not worth it, you discard it. Isn't it the same in the end?
Here, "The Division Bell", the last work of Pink Floyd, is a devalued album, deemed unnecessary by critics for various reasons: - It was too successful - The lyrics are no longer from the "great" Waters - Gilmour, having become the leader of the band, involved several, too many guest stars in the music. So these, for the untouchable critics, would be flaws...
I don't want to devalue Waters, but in his last works with the group, he had become overbearing, omnipresent, unbearable (In three words "The Final Cut"). His ideas were innovative, against-trend, great, but in many cases forced, in others simply bad. "The Division Bell", on the other hand, 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, like "Poles Apart", "Coming Back To Life" and "Lost for Words". However, let's not forget that we are still facing Pink Floyd: the atmospheres of the initial "Cluster One" and especially of "Marooned" are here to remind us, as well as the various psychedelic interludes present within the various tracks.
The conclusion is entrusted to the perfect "High Hopes", which closes in turn fading on the notes of Gilmour's superb solo. Isn't that enough? Aren't the millions of copies sold and the cohesion finally regained by the now not so young members of the band enough to show that this album is worthy of concluding their career?
For me, yes. Listen to it, and you will agree.
"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.
To understand and appreciate this album, one must set aside prejudices.
There are more than sixty minutes of music played splendidly, without a note out of place.
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.