Pink Floyd - The Final Cut

The Final Cut seems to be one of the more divisive albums in Pink Floyd's discography, and happens to be my personal favourite. I should qualify this and right off the bat admit to being a somewhat casual whose personal collection (for a long time) of Pink Floyd records started ... and stopped at The Wall. This should give you the general idea that I am pretty much one of the great unwashed Luddites who shouldn't be allowed to pass himself off as a fan.

Except I do consider myself a fan.

The Wall was one of those foundational albums that would go on to sell more than 30,000,000 copies world wide. It was an impossible album to try and top. 

In 1983 the band would release The Final Cut, an ambitious and ultimately bewildering album that seemed to eschew any sense of standard form and song structure. "Not Now John" was released as a single, and I don't know if I ever heard it on the radio. I was curious as to what the radio edit would sound like, so I went to YouTube and listened to it ... the constant "fuck all that" was replaced with "stop all that" but somehow it just seemed anemic. Maybe there's a reason I've never heard it on the radio. Too bad, it was the only song on the record David Gilmour sang lead vocals on, and even at that it was shared with Roger. It's always boggled my mind that he didn't sing backing vocals, or provide textures as his voice is a nice counter to Roger's. 

By this time Richard Wright the band's keyboard player had been forced out, and even drummer Nick Mason didn't play on all the tracks. This was really a Roger Waters solo album in all but name.

I remember reading an album reviews section of the local paper and two "new" records were being discussed. A Flock of Seagulls Listen, and Pink Floyd's The Final Cut. A Flock of Seagulls was shredded, and the reviewer seemed to be fixated on the band's hair, particularly drummer Ali Score who did his best with what he had, which wasn't much. I don't recall a lot of what was said about the Pink Floyd album other than it was savagely negative. For me I suppose I was impressionable to a point ... I bought and loved Listen, but took his scathing review of The Final Cut at Face value.

Fast forward five years, it's 1988 and I'm renting the upper floor of a house with my buddy Otto. He got the master (yes, I said master) bedroom and I got the two smaller rooms. I turned one into my studio and music room. Otto also had quite a few records I never had, and among them was The Final Cut. I was curious so I played it ... and played it again, and again. It practically lived on my turntable for a year off and on. I'm still not quite sure why it resonated so deeply with me. I can't honestly say I sat and scoured the lyrics or tried to decipher the deeper parallels Roger was trying to convey between the Second World War, the loss of his Father and Margaret Thatcher's Falklands War as a way of showing England's prowess over Argentina.

For me it was the mood, the music, the textures and recurring themes and David's guitar as a counter point to Roger's vocals and lyrics. It may not have the depth or catchy songs or obvious singles, but to me it was a cohesive work that was only interrupted by having to get up and flip the record over. I solved that by getting the CD, but recently I was on holiday and while the wife went shopping I wandered around and stumbled upon a really cool shop that sold high end audio equipment and had a decent selection of records. I had time so I started at the A's and work my way through the alphabet. Dang he even had a Budgie record, but I wasn't spending 75 bucks for a record. I did though find a handful of records I'd been looking for and a really nice copy of The Final Cut, an album I didn't need ... like that matters, I really don't need any of the stuff I get. 

I want them.

Wants versus needs, versus available space. I'm running out of space ...

Settling down on the couch with the album in hand, and playing the record almost immediately transported me back in time. I'm still one of the great unwashed who doesn't truly understand the narrative here, and that's okay. There's a weird balance between the contrived self importance of the whole album, and the inevitable emotional impact derived from the listening experience. It doesn't matter to me at all that this was really a thinly disguised Roger Waters solo album. The give away was right on the back cover, "a requiem for the post war dream by roger waters." Pink Floyd with the departure of Richard Wright, the band was a trio in name only, as Mason and Gilmour were essentially relegated to the role of session players. Although to me Gilmour was the secret sauce that elevated the music here.

It's been a while since I sat and played this through, and it was a revealing listen. Much of what I loved then I still loved. The centrepiece is still the one two pairing of "South Hampton Dock" that gently segues into the "The Final Cut" which is a wonderful song. Michael Kamen's orchestral arrangements mirror those found on "Comfortably Numb" giving the two pieces an oddly symbiotic relationship I hadn't noticed before. David's solo work on the song is really tasty.

The album closes with the haunting "Two Suns in the Sunset" that was a reflection of the fears of nuclear annihilation that seemed to saturate the airwaves at the time. 

Then it was over. 

I sat for a moment thinking to myself, "Well that was awesome." Then I got up flipped it over and played it again.