The Dark Side of Dark Side
There are those who would argue that end of Pink Floyd came in 1968, when madness claimed founding member and creative force Syd Barrett. There are even those who feel that the band really ended in 1984, after The Final Cut, when Roger Waters left. There are, of course, those who would argue that the band never really ended at all, carrying since 1987 under the leadership of David Gilmour. However, in many respects, however, it could be said that 1973 was the really beginning of the end for Pink Floyd.
1973 was a watershed year for Pink Floyd. Although they had been touring with the material for a more than a year, no one expected that The Dark Side of the Moon would become one of the biggest rock albums of all time. While each new album consistently outsold the previous one, Dark Side was a complete phenomenon. It surpassed anything the band had accomplished before, transforming the band from cult art-rockers into millionaire megastars.
What made The Dark Side of the Moon such a success is open to speculation. Dark Side was the first in a line of Floyd albums to be a concept album. The straightforward lyrics coupled with recurring sound effects made the record tighter and more cohesive than anything the band had released previously. And unlike a lot of other arty, pretentious concept records of the day, people could easily relate to the universal themes presented.
The Dark Side of the Moon also raised the bar for any Floyd record that followed. The original plan was to follow Dark Side with an album containing only three songs: "Shine On You Crazy Diamond", "Raving and Drooling", and "You Gotta Be Crazy", none of which is thematically linked to the others. That was scrapped, however, in favor of the more conceptual Wish You Were Here. Dark Side, more than any other record, came to define the "Pink Floyd sound". Even as recently as 1987, an early version of A Momentary Lapse of Reason was rejected for not sounding like Pink Floyd.
Pink Floyd were also becoming big business. In America, Harvest released "Money" as single, giving the Floyd something that they never had before: AM radio exposure (which in turn helped the album reach a larger audience). And the sales figures were justifiably legendary. Were the years of touring and building an audience finally paying off, or was it the album's concept that resonated well with audiences? Either way, the band suddenly found themselves selling millions upon millions of albums, scoring a big number one hit record, and ending up richer than they had ever dreamed of. Manager Steve O' Rourke found himself in a position to net the Floyd a recording contract with CBS in America worth seven figures. Music became less and less important as David Gilmour collected guitars, Nick Mason collected cars, Rick Wright collected Persian rugs, and Waters collected French Impressionists paintings.
What, exactly, had changed?
Externally, Pink Floyd went from a small cult phenomenon to mainstream success. The Dark Side of the Moon became a staple album that all rock fans had to own. Fifteen years after its original release, the album was selling like a new release when it was first issued on compact disc. So high was the demand that Capitol had to dedicate a plant to manufacturing nothing but Dark Side CDs. Even the album's cover has evolved into a pop cultural artifact.
The band's audience had completely changed. In the days before Dark Side, Floyd would play gigs in universities and small theaters to quiet, appreciative crowds that would only applaud between numbers. These intimate venues found the Floyd at their creative peak as they explored their music with the audience soaking in what Roger Waters now refers to as "magic". As the 1970s progressed and hit record followed hit record, the audiences grew larger and larger, culminating in huge stadium spectacles. At this point, the shows became more rigid and less improvisational, and the audiences were no longer silent and respectful. They shouted during the songs (Play "Money"!) and lit off fireworks in the stands.
Internally, the band was falling apart. During the recording of The Dark Side of the Moon, Gilmour and Waters were at odds over how the album should sound, and they ultimately had to bring in veteran producer Chris Thomas to supervise the mixing of the album. Dark Side also marked the beginning of Roger Waters' domination of the band. What once was a collaborative group became a vehicle for Waters' bleak vision. While albums like Wish You Were Here or The Wall are certainly landmark albums, the energy that pushed the band to create such underrated masterworks such as Meddle or Obscured By Clouds was gone.
After starting out a small clubs in "swinging" London back in 1967, nearly seven years of hard work had finally paid off. The Floyd had their first number one, millions-selling record. They had done something of which most bands can only dream. They were raking in the cash, living the lives of Rock Gods. With all of their goals realized, what was left? The band continued, but they stopped progressing. They simply carried on. They kept on moving millions upon millions of "units", selling out bigger and bigger venues, and ceased to be the group they once were. They ended up becoming hit product-manufacturing cogs in the industry, no longer pushing the boundary of their art. Welcome to the machine, indeed.
Not only did he help polish and focus the narrative, but he helped bring new ideas to the process of creating the album. He was the one on whose shoulders fell the unenviable task of telling Waters when his writing wasn't up to par. The discofied sound of "Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2" is largely Ezrin's doing (in an attempt to help generate a hit single from the record), as is chorus of schoolchildren that is the song's trademark. When Waters wanted an orchestral feel to "Comfortably Numb" and Gilmour favored a heavier, guitar-driven sound, it was Ezrin who made the final decision. And it was Ezrin who (with Michael Kamen) developed the orchestral score for "The Trial"; so important was his contribution to the finished song that the stingy Waters even shared the writing credit!
Ezrin's input as a producer was so valued that both Waters and Gilmour sought his services in producing their post-split records (though Ezrin chose to only work with Gilmour). Apparently, though, Waters learned that having a producer to collaborate with is a valuable thing, as he shares the producing responsibilities on every record he has made since The Wall.
In a way, the producer is in charge of managing every aspect of the recording session, from the actual content of the recording, to assembling any additional musicians needed, to making sure the engineers are capturing the performances the way he and the band want them captured, to overseeing the final mixdown.
When the Floyds got started they felt privileged to have a successful professional producer, Norman Smith, guiding them through the process, and helping them craft a hit single or too. For all that is made of Syd Barrett's songwriting and inventive guitar antics, Smith deserves a lot of the credit for finding a way to translate the Floyd's onstage chaos into the recorded medium. But by the time they were making A Saucerful of Secrets, the Floyds themselves started experimenting with producing their own recordings, which led to that album's title track. Smith hated it, but the Floyds seemed to enjoy the added freedom to experiment.
Even the most basic elements of running a studio session--such as contracting with a recording studio and hiring a caterer and keeping the recording sessions on schedule--fall under the producers duties, although they are usually farmed out to hired hands. With the Floyds producing their own albums from 1970 through 1979, it is largely accepted that manager Steve O'Rourke took over making most of the logistical arrangements (freeing the band to handle the artistic end of things. And it seems that the Floyds have always had a knack for hiring exceptionally competent technical help (engineers such as Alan Parsons and James Guthrie) to help them translate their artistic vision to the recorded medium.
It is easy to view the record producer as just another industry Suit, riding a successful band's gravy train. (And in some cases, you might be right.) But more often than not, musicians rely on their producers to make them sound like the geniuses their fans expect them to be.
Pink Floyd and MTV had a very short-lived relationship. Of course it had nothing to do with bad blood or bad promotion. It had to do with different directions. By the early 90s MTV had decided that showing kids talking about their personal lives in college was more important to the youth of the world than playing music.
Of course, this may have had something to do with the fact that video-making had run its course. Very seldom were videos innovative or fresh. Instead, the music video medium had become soft porn.
Meanwhile, Pink Floyd hadn't done much after the very long Momentary Lapse of Reason tour. It wasn't until 1994 when the Floyd re-surfaced with some new material and a new tour. By then, MTV had totally changed from what it had been back in 1988.
Sure, every so often we'd see the "Take it Back" video, and maybe a quick interview clip with a band member. But nothing could match the magical weekend in May of 1988.
MTV's Pink Floyd Weekend was truly the bait that reeled me into the sights and sounds of Pink Floyd. I had already purchased A Momentary Lapse of Reason on cassette a month earlier, and loved it. In fact, I was on the verge of wearing out the tape in under 30 days.
I woke up that Saturday morning and turned on the TV, remembering about this weekend with Pink Floyd. I had no idea what to expect. I figured Pink Floyd were a band from the 70s. They didn't make videos. Sure, they had made "Learning To Fly" (which is how I got turned on in the first place). But you can't possibly make a weekend of just a few videos, could you?
I was about to find out that Pink Floyd were more than a few videos.
I tuned into MTV only to find some bizarre animation on. "Well this is strange", I thought to myself. But somehow I found myself loving the music and vocals. And man, those keyboards, this was 'better' then what I bought last month. "Who is this?" I thought.
I found myself watching "Welcome To The Machine" from Pink Floyd's album Wish You Were Here.
"Wow" I thought. Then the screen went to black and all I heard was wind blowing then a bass line. It was the intro to "One Of These Days" (which I wouldn't find out for a few more months).
I was glued to the television all weekend long.
By Sunday, I thought I had seen it all. But wait, there was more. Where is that factory and why is there an inflatable pig hanging from it? Oh yeah, a little video clip from "Pigs--3 Different Ones". What about these kids setting a school on fire? What a neat song I thought. Why are their marching hammers on my TV set? "Brain Damage/Eclipse"? Was this one song or two? And why is that little shed exploding? What's up with all of those albums? Hmm, Dark Side of The Moon? I even recall seeing David Gilmour on a tour bus without Pink Floyd (which can be seen on his solo tour video 'David Gilmour').
Needless to say, Pink Floyd had done what they set out to do with the MTV Weekend: grab a new fan and get him to buy their albums and tapes and CDs. Not to mention a really neat T-shirt I bought in Wildwood, NJ. (But that's another column).
In fact they didn't just grab me, but they grabbed an entire generation of new fans. New fans that were going to their shows and filling up stadiums without knowing much of the older material. Something that Waters detested.
You could even say that the Floyd lost a few fans for this.
MTV used Pink Floyd to bring in viewers. Remember the contest? Sure you do--win a plane, and a flying lesson with Nick Mason. What a wonderful marketing ploy to get people tune in and be exposed to Pink Floyd. In a way, you could say that MTV and Pink Floyd used each other.
This issue's theme deals with Pink Floyd, and specifically Roger Waters, against the music industry. But at the time of that glorious weekend, Roger had nothing to do with Pink Floyd. The Floyd, however, were promoting themselves silly--something Roger claimed he hated doing (despite the fact that Roger himself had done a video EP to promote Radio KAOS). They were using a new marketing vehicle called MTV. Thank God for that, because Lord only knows what I'd be listening to now if MTV had never come along.
But as I watched I wondered, "Who is Roger Waters?" It would be years before I would discover that Roger had to cancel tour dates because Pink Floyd were blowing the doors off of stadiums, and there just wasn't an interest in Roger's shows.
Today it's much different. Roger has decided to promote himself with a live album and DVD. His popularity has had enormous growth over the past several years.
It's a shame MTV doesn't care anymore, because the fans certainly do.