The Other Side of The Moon: The Films Of Pink Floyd Part 2
In the 1970’s both The Who and Pink Floyd were battling out over who could make the more overblown version of their concept albums as films. Tommy was famously directed by UK mainstay Ken Russell and The Wall by Alan Parker respectively. Neither were either parties' best work by a long shot, but both raised their profiles and portfolios significantly. While Tommy was at best a campy reimagining of a ‘70s version of an album long drawn out by its creator, Pete Townshend, which the band was long sick of, it didn’t stop them from filming it while also recording an album. Tommy came off like a jukebox musical, neither helping nor harming the groups’ legacy overall. It was simply an appendage to the gastro-sized ‘70s rock god idea of existence.
“We are so huge and culturally important we can make a film out of the album based around our own psychoanalysis rock.”
On the complete other side of the spectrum of psychoanalysis came Pink Floyd's The Wall, a mutated, darker, and harsh understanding of one’s own existence born out of a lack of control and true reality. Whereas Tommy exists out of fear of one's own family and mind, The Wall exists out of reality’s overbearing intensities and lack of family, the need to find yourself away from others.
The Wall film firmly exists, and has existed as a right of passage for young men and women to watch at sleepovers and in dorm rooms since it’s release. It sits alongside The Grateful Dead Movie and The Song Remains The Same as counter-cultural staples. Despite this ubiquitousness, The Wall stands alone as a bleak litmus test that evokes intensities within every listener and viewer. However unlike the aforementioned Dead and Zeppelin films—which portrays both groups in their natural environment that millions saw both on stage and on-screen—The Wall isn’t truly Pink Floyd but a sort of re-creation or continuation of an idea.
It was clear from the release of the album that Pink Floyd were opening their world to the ideas of others. Virtually their entire career they existed as a sheltered and private group with no one entering and exiting excluding a few appearances here and there from fellow musicians. By the time The Wall appeared on shelves in late 1979, the group was using session musicians to not only relieve group tension and to augment the sound, but to fulfill Roger Waters’ supreme idea that this was now his group and his vision. Eventually, this would become a fully realized dream on The Final Cut, ultimately a testament to one man and to the group failing as a unit (and failing to work as a unit). It even carried over into the live show. To replicate the show to their standards they hired an entire backing band and vocalists in tow not only to play as the infamous “surrogate band” but to also recreate what they had laid down on tape in the South of France for a year. In the Floyd’s case, it takes a village.
Which then makes the outcome of The Wall films’ OST that much more clear in terms of its goal. Water’s sought to make the film and the appending music to exist in its own universe but to also give Water’s the ability to morph the group and its music fully to his own vision. In addition to having lead star Bob Geldof appear on many tracks, nearly the entire album was re-mixed, re-recorded, and even had new parts and songs attached to it. This wasn’t a reimagining of The Wall, this was Waters completing his idealized version of the album.
Upon re-listening to the film, aside from the various film elements sound wise occurring throughout the tracks, vocals and keyboard elements are much more present in this version of the album than The Wall’s original intentions ever were. It gives it a greater dimension that was further explored on The Final Cut. For instance, Mother is completely re-recorded for a more somber and fearful tone. What Shall We Do Now is an elongated version of Empty Spaces which was left off of The Wall at the last minute due to timing limitations. It’s lyrics were even left on copies of the album The OST version is much closer to Rogers’ initial demo of the song. Oddly enough the live track The Last Few Bricks isn’t re-recorded or included which was used in the live show to buy time so the roadies could complete the wall. There are more subtle and egregious changes throughout the album to complement the film, but with minute notes like “re-recorded bass” and “additional guitar” it raises the question of the validity and point to all this knob twiddling.
If the group (Roger really) were intent to compliment the film with its own unique version of the album it seems that Roger was bent on getting other songs in as well. When The Tigers Broke Free is one of his greatest overall compositions and was sorely left out of any release outside of a promotional single in 1982 and was never found on an album until the Echoes compilation and The Final Cut 2003 reissue where it fully completes the album. Elsewhere throughout the film and OST are references to 5:11am and Your Possible Pasts, two tracks left off of The Wall and kept for The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking and The Final Cut respectively. While the former is a high fidelity trip through the eyes of an adulterous paranoid man, the latter remains the focal high point of Water’s career. One does have to wonder, was it really worth it to be that specific in pointing them out through the film before they were even (potentially) considered for release? Was it to notate Pinks eventually unraveling of his own mind, because it’s pretty apparent from listening to the album and seeing the film. Regardless, it’s these minute instances plus all the various re-recordings and editings of the songs that gave Waters a stronger and stronger case for leading the group.
The film itself overall is a bleak snap to the senses, characteristic of the images projected throughout the live concerts the group had given barely a year before. Geldof gives a wonderful performance as Pink, lending his own vocals to both In The Fleshs gives them a Ziggy era Bowie lilt, something quite refreshing after the sinister and sarcastic narrative style Waters delivers on the original album. Infamous scenes from the film including the teacher grinding up students into worm like patte, and the face melting scene in Comfortably Numb deserve their spot at the table of every hang out session until the sun sets, both indicative of how Rodger wanted his opinions known so badly he was willing to rework the entire thing in a dark hue for an hour and a half. The film itself wasn’t a success nor a failure. It’s reception over time is what allowed it to become what it did, a finalization of an idea Roger just couldn’t let go. It took him the following two albums to move on.
As a side note, even David Gilmour got his own stamp on his idea of the Floyds legacy. Even before Momentary Lapse of Reason, A Collection of Great Dance Songs appeared on shelves in 1981 with re-recorded bits of tracks like bass and drums on songs like Sheep and Money. This was more for contractual and licensing items, but for David Gilmour it must’ve felt like divine intervention to give him the seed for the idea of trying to bring Floyd to be closer to his or the band's original intention in the future. Hold on for a bit Dave, you still have to get through The Final Cut and various lawsuits before you can get there.
After the release of The Final Cut, Waters quietly exited the group he wrangled from the hands of the others, famously declaring they were “a spent force creatively” which, considering Wright had been mentally absent from any group writings since the beginning of The Wall concept, and David Gilmour was out re-recording parts for old Floyd songs and doing his own solo work, it’s no surprise he said that. However when the group wanted to continue as Pink Floyd, the remaining members were clearly waiting for Roger to leave. As A Momentary Lapse of Reason and The Division Bell were released it was clear the group were continuing on the idea laid down by Roger in allowing various collaborators help the band out and even re-light some of that initial spark and energy back into the groups creative energies. As seen in various hours of footage of the band backstage, in the studio, and on the albums themselves, Richard Wright, Nick Mason, and David Gilmour clearly gelled again on their own terms and time without the hectic “go go go” schedule and mentality Roger inflicted upon them.
There’s nearly a decade between Lapse and Bell, but that didn’t matter to the group nor its legacy. They both sold by the truckload and subtly referenced old Floyd material throughout without pure plagiarism for that old spark. The tours also brought in millions of dollars and presented the group to millions upon millions of people who never saw them in the first place, the greatest of technology and even filmed both tours for home release where they revisited and in a sense, re-recorded the material albeit with new members and in a live fashion. Roger meanwhile kept touring on his new creations but eventually returned to The Wall as a show numerous times throughout his career. It seems both parties moved on but moved back against the walls they had built, occasionally making new etchings and placing new bricks where the old ones stood.
The Final Cut films major flaw is its sequencing. It ends rather depressingly on The Fletcher Memorial Home, a scathing, timely ode to the Regan Thatcher years dedicated with his fathers name. While a poignant and solid song, The Final Cut film should’ve ended with the title track or even Two Suns In The Sunset. If you want a proper experience of it, the sequencing should go: The Gunners Dream -> The Fletcher Memorial Home -> Not Now John -> The Final Cut. The albums sequencing itself especially with When The Tigers Broke Free on is already fantastic, why should the film be any less so?
While neither Momentary Lapse nor its follow up The Division Bell are essential by any means they still show glimmers of their previous lives throughout all the tracks. Despite one being too ‘80’s (the former was actually rereleased as a new remix in the later years box set) and the latter being too blues new age at just late enough in time, it was unfortunate that the group without Waters wasn’t able to scale its timeless heights for new generations. They were seen purely as motivation to tour which is fine considering how the tours were seen, as a way for the group to present themselves as they had always wanted to do and continue their trend of experimentation and innovation.
Where in the early days the band were keen on live quadrophonic sound and video screens, as they entered the digital age of the ‘80s they entered it with their own desires. Delicate Sound, recently released as a remastered disc set is long overdue regarding their recent box sets of late, namely the fantastic early years set. It was their first attempt since Pompeii to deliver to the world the Floyd experience. And what an experience, late ‘80s and all. Never ones to skimp on the presentation, after the influence of The Wall shows and realizing just what it takes to perform their multi layered albums live, they were now flanked by semi-industrial rock grate like scaffolding stages and a multitude of spinning lights and the band had ballooned to nearly four times its original size.
The trick worked, and a shiney energized and exciting version of the Gilmour led late ‘80s Floyd was here for all to view. Each member is in good spirits flanked by their own doubles. For Gilmour, Wright, and Mason you have Tim Renwick, Jon Carin, and Gary Wallis. Filling Water’s shoes is the jumping and excitable bass session wunderkind Guy Pratt. Just as an aside, when Andy Rourke was fired/ousted from The Smiths initially in 1986, Guy successfully auditioned and was a member for all of two seconds before they brought back Andy. His next gig was as a member of Pink Floyd. Can I have some of Guy's luck? While not essential by any means it is a fun look at a happy and energetic view of what the band was presenting themselves as outside of the gloom and intense introspection of the Waters years. With Momentary Lapse and the ensuing tour, an entire new generation of Floyd fans was able to see (albeit a certain image of the band) presented to them.
By the time Pulse was released the now familiar button down shirt and formal presentation of the band's mild mannered and intensely polite disposition was now firmly cemented, seeing as it was the last time they toured and were seen by a large audience publicly. Again much like Delicate Sound it remains far from essential, but it is a curious view into a band further augmenting their sight and presentation for a new audience some six plus years after their previous shows. The energy (and coke) imbued hype of the late ‘80s had worn off as they nestled into The Division Bell era, much more somber and downtempo than their previous effort.
In addition, early ‘90s ambient techno (which often time owes nearly its entire aesthetic live and musical existence to the groundwork laid by Floyd previously as a European festival and college hall mainstay) were documented jamming and creating longer pieces than ever before, now comfortable being back into their old mold with Wright a full member of the band again. A tape of their recording experiments would play during shows and was tacked on as a secret track hidden on Pulse. It seems their age-old trick of experimentation and atmosphere building learned from their film years hadn’t quite gotten away from them just yet.
It’s interesting to consider all of this retrospectively considering how closed off and private the group was at the time. Admittedly this is due to Gilmour being a bit embarrassed by the whole pop presentation charade, but more boils down to their own stubbornness and English character. They allowed themselves to be used as an augmentation musically more so than a personal one, both that they helped create the ambiance for films as the Pink Floyd, but were also allowed to live in other musical genres with songs seen across their soundtracks. When it came time to present themselves, they as personalities were almost non existent with the exception of Pompeii where they were famously avoidant and nonchalant about the whole thing even though their quintessentially polite and reserved characters peel through every once in a while.
Outside of this brief view of their lives the films they did on their own did no favors to presenting the group as persons, something they avoided so much during their career due to new order type awkwardness as personalities which was augmented as both an artistic and personal necessity in having all the stage theatrics to hide behind, was so intense that at the end of one dark side tour they all hopped off the stage at the end and walked into the big crowd and none were noticed. This can even extend to the present day after Delicate Sound and Pulse. The entire band looks like businessmen and your best friends dad in khakis and loafers, not rock stars.
They were just as cunning about presenting a non image as they were presenting one. Their entire image was about not keeping up with one as members but as an outsized existence artistically, which is very much the same thing but in a different way. The main difference is the Gilmour led years were more about the music and the Waters led ones were comfortable putting himself into the forefront (final cut video link) even if he was partially in the shadows. Both periods of leaders and both periods of being used in film and using film present the group on different sides of the moon, and both had massive impact on how the group grew over time.