Saw them on youtube and loved it. Not really because of the music, but for some reason knowing that they have sort of reunited touches my heart in all the right places. Something to do with our somewhat distorted perception of pop groups as the closer we'll get to super-hero groups and of how wrong it feels when super-heroes fight (I hope there's enough comic-book
geekage around to understand, appreciate and validate the analogy, because it surely sounds cheesy), an idealization of the adventure, companionship, camaraderie, of *how fun* all that must have been... It was basically old pals getting a good resemblance of a closure, which is not bad. This feeling only got reinforced when later I saw the three of them - Wright couldn't attend, he was performing eye surgery - receiving the thing at the UK Music Hall Of Fame.
Also part of what makes it so alluring to old time fans is that how many classic bands from the golden age are around with their formation intact? NONE (Help me out if I'm forgetting someone): The Doors, The Who, The Beatles, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin... whenever nostalgia (or greed) attacks, it's always an exercise in make-believe and squinting real hard for the fans, who have to ignore the new drummer with pimples on his face, or the indelible aura of venality that hangs around hired musicians, but the Floyd can go onstage and still be 100% Floyd.
Now I drool:
Seeing Dave Gilmour and Rick Wright performing Arnold Layne on television was *really* far out:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=b8KvKu8YYHE. There was half of a band that the world grew used to see solely as a stadium act, a heavy machine that could only clumsily trundle from arena to arena and perform under stratospheric production values... playing it raw and sloppy (my God Wright, mind your throat, please) without as much as a lighter as visual effects, really grooving to it, cutting a real nice 3-minute pop song with some bite to it! That Gilmour and Wright seemed as I said sort of un-rehearsed or sloppy only made it more jarring, considering. Almost like a bunch of kids trying to nail and audition or something - which is pretty close to that spunky, ineffable spark that real good bands possess when they're young and that, given the Floyd's level of desiccation (the "removal of water", see, see, nudge, nudge?) one wouldn't expect to find in them anymore. Also the strange contrast in seeing old wrinkled faces at it again, playing, screwing up here and there - not hiding behind an army of musicians playing 25-minutes-long embellished muzak - , I, I, I have tried to avoid saying it but I cannot - it seemed almost
punk (Ok, I was squinting
real hard there).
The drooling will get worse, you might wanna stop reading now.
The recent inclusion of "Wots... Uh The Deal" from "Obscured By Clouds" in Gilmour's setlist only made me start panting louder. If only sense struck them, and they started digging up those perfect short obscurities from "More", "Obscured..." and so on, and started playing them like real bands used to do, only the four of them onstage, bass, guitar, keyboard and drumkit, also ditching megavenues in favor of small clubs and small arenas - which of course won't happen because the rest of the world got Floyd all wrong, and nobody listens to me anyways, so there.
Sorry for that, it's just that I'll be 30 years old in May.