Pink Floyd is Dead, Long Live Pink Floyd!
The band is all long gone, but the members linger on.
A wise man once said that a band that puts out a greatest hits album might as well be defunct.
Okay, so that man was Sammy Hagar, and the degree of his wisdom is arguable given that he has spent most of his career penning songs that could best be described as variations on "Wang Dang Sweet Poon Tang," but here he seems right on the mark. The exact quote was (thank you, Google): "A band [releases] a greatest hits album when they have nowhere else to go. Can you name one band in their heyday that's done a greatest hits record?"
He's got a point, and much as I'd like to believe otherwise, I think we can finally stick a fork in this Pink Floyd thing. Echoes: The Best of Pink Floyd is hardly a fitting eulogy, a whimper rather than a bang if you ask me, but it's a eulogy nonetheless. Rick and Nick have made no bones about the fact that the band is effectively in Dave's hands, and Dave seems utterly disinterested in resurrecting the old beast for even one last go-around.
And yet, we've had some of the most active months in memory this last year from the Floyd camp. There have been TV specials and radio retrospectives, with full band participation. The four Floyds seem at peace with their legacy, and unusually willing to revisit it lately.
And then, of course, there's Roger's never-ending tour, now hitting some unlikely and rarely visited locales for a European artist, not to mention spawning an amazing live DVD release. Roger seems to be enjoying performing more than, well, ever. For once, a tour has come at the behest of the artist rather than the record company, and perhaps being on his own terms has given Mr. Waters renewed purpose.
Even more remarkable is Roger's (former?) arch-nemesis' sudden re-entry into the live performance venue. Though it's tempting to attribute it to a competitive streak, it's more likely Dave's participation in Paul McCartney's Run Devil Run album and concert that possessed him to take to small, intimate British and French venues with "solo" appearances.
The "solo" is in quotes because, well, Dave hasn't exactly pared down his cast of backing musicians. Employing a cast of no fewer than 17 musicians and backup singers (shades of A Momentary Lapse of Reason), including, most remarkably, one Richard Wright. Which makes one wonder why Mr. Gilmour didn't just recruit Nick Mason and slap the Pink Floyd name on it again.
The reasons are obvious with a little examination and thought (and maybe a little conjecture, but it's my column, so tough). As early as the last tour, David expressed an interest in paring down the scale of the endeavors into touring, though at the time he was still attaching the name Pink Floyd. Apparently what he meant was cutting the light show and the venue size. (And the drummer. Zing! Of course, Nick is busy elsewhere--with Roger. But that's another column...)
Seriously, what David did was cut the baggage. The brand name "Pink Floyd" guarantees interest and scrutiny on an almost superhuman level, much like a new Rolling Stones tour or a Steven Spielberg movie. Those endeavors carry certain expectations based on previous performance. Take Spielberg's recent A.I., for example, which failed to live up to the audience's expectations for what constitutes a Spielberg film: explosions, light comedy, relatively little deep thought. Whenever Spielberg deviates from that, the numbers get ugly. Amistad, Schindler's List, and even Saving Private Ryan; while modest successes, none of them are exactly top ten grossers.
With the name 'Pink Floyd' attached, one is obligated to play "Money", or there could be riots. At the very least, diminished gate receipts. It's the dreaded "FLOYD ROOLZ DOOD" syndrome. As the size of the audience increases, the familiarity of the audience with more obscure aspects of the group inevitably diminishes. Until now, David has been apparently willing to accept that prerequisite, but now his whims have taken him elsewhere.
Another quote springs to mind: Nick Mason told Musician back in 1988, "[Roger] wanted the band to finish, and he could have finished it by staying in it. His big mistake was to leave. Because by leaving suddenly it regenerated." To turn the quote around, Roger could no longer function within the confines of Pink Floyd; by leaving, he was reinvigorated.
In other words, leaving Pink Floyd was the best thing that could have happened to Roger the musician. And now it appears to be the same for his former bandmate.
The interview continues: "We could have taken five years to make another album, but Roger looking over the gunsights at us made it happen in ten months. There was absolutely no 'maybe we should, maybe we shouldn't.' It was, 'let's do it, now; who do we need, how will we do it.' It was galvanizing. I think most bands work best when they're just that bit hungry, when they want to prove themselves." Which I think sheds some light on why the band has gone silent: nothing to prove anymore. David proved that he could front the band just as well as Roger could. And Roger no longer cares.
What we're left with, then, is a group of musicians with nothing left to prove. All that remains is the love of the music, the joy of performing. And, really, isn't that better than hearing "Money" again, dood?