Rev.Speats'Blog Cabin

Let There Be Even More Light

All of us (us meaning Floydians) knew in our rational minds that last year's Pink Floyd Live 8 full band reunion had little to slim chance of building into a full blown tour. We wanted it (still do), prayed for it (still are), but we moved on with a wistful "well maybe next year" attitude. It was like when the Cubs almost went to the world series. Almost. We relived the Live 8 moment time and again on our TiVos and later DVDs and hung in quiet desperation and hoped said reunion would happen.
It didn't.

Roger Waters (who infamously took his fellow band-mates to London's high court to prevent them from going on as Pink Floyd without him) and David Gilmour (who had great success leading Pink Floyd in the late '80s and early'90s without Waters) buried the old hatchet last year but didn't agree to any future plans beyond Live 8.

In the Pink Floyd Universe (where millions of us music snobs and their equally puzzled and befuddled spouses/partners live), it seems the fans were not the only ones warmed by seeing the band reunite.

Within a few months of Live 8, David Gilmour announced he'd be releasing his first solo record in 22 years with a tour to follow (his last one came out in 1984, I purchased it on cassette, I was in the sixth grade...CDs were still a summer away back in that time when boom-boxes were known as "ghetto blasters"). Roger Waters released his long-in-the-works Operatic work "Ca Ira" and announced a tour of his own.

Here it gets a little "Squid and The Whale" (or like shared custody for those who haven't seen that film). Gilmour announces he's taking keyboardist Richard Wright (founder member of the band and the only one who's played in every incarnation of the group) with him on his tour and Waters counters with bringing original drummer Nick Mason on his.(Waters for the record did extend an invitation to Richard Wright to join him but declined).

It seems the collective members of the band want to give the fans the reunion without the inherit baggage of doing it under the Pink Floyd banner. Mom and dad love their children but just can't live under the same roof anymore, right?

December saw the pre-sale of the L.A. Gilmour dates and I mortgaged a percentage of my Christmas bonus for an orchestra seat at the Kodak Theater and then the wait began. The 19th of April even in my so-called adult years seemed eons away. Like the distance between the beginning of fall semester and summer vacation from a first grader's point of view.

At long last the 19th arrived with the expediency of all things and I made my way on foot to Hollywood and Highland. Hands shaking, memories of all things Floyd in my past rushed to my head (like riding shotgun around the Valley with my-partner-in-subversity Greg as I lectured him on Floyd minutae while trading pipe hits during my high school days and that long ago time when each new Floyd album added to my collection was like discovering a piece of the Dead Sea Scrolls) as I took my seat inside the grandeur of the Kodak Theater.

The lights dimmed and the theater rumbled with the communal heartbeat of "Breathe" and the promise of all things I hold dear musically became reality for the next two hours and thirty minutes. I went through every emotion as the night progressed. Seeing David harmonize with Richard Wright on "Echoes", (something that only existed previously in headphoned reality), made me realize how damn lucky I am. Hearing such relative obscurities as "Fat Old Sun" and "Arnold Layne" in such an intimate setting reinforced how fortunate I felt to be there. I felt joy for having the privilege to be a part of this experience and remorse for those closest with me and this music weren't there to experience it too.

Now I'm not one who "gets religion" in the conventional way...Seven years of Hebrew school didn't make me a believer and I'm nowhere closer to getting cozy with God than I was back then. But I think I know now what it must feel like to be uplifted in that churchy spiritual way...Sound corny? Of course it does, though I can't deny the positivity and joy I felt by hearing this music live and played with such conviction.

I set out originally to write this as a review of the show with requisite setlist, how cool the light show was and the like, but I realized this became something else entirely. A testament to the transformative power of the concert experience and how I left changed for the better. My secular world just got a little more spiritual.

How I wish, how I wish you were there.

Tony Soprano humming the Jethro Tull's "Aqualung"? It's Not TV. It's HBO. It's Why God Created The TiVo. So Rev.Speats Could Relive Glorious Moments Like That Over and Over. . .


I have to say I can't begrudge Tony for his musical taste or to go bald naturally without incessantly shaving his head like most balding men today (myself included from time to time).

Whether its listening to Deep Purple while comatose or humming a little 'Tull, Tony always knows what time it is.

Growing in up under the influence of my older brother’s record collection, the joyful noise I was first introduced to (as I’ve mentioned before) was the holy triumvirate of KISS, Queen, and Styx.

When the ’80s officially became “The ‘80s” (‘round about July 22nd , 1984), these bands largely fell out of favor and my brother hitched his acid-washed star to Depeche Mode, Erasure, and New Order (driving his new allegiance home with requisite Human League Haircut and K-ROQ bumper sticker). His old arena rock records gathered dust and quickly I became the Keeper of the Flame. (“Come Sail Away” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” spoke to me in ways back then that “People Are People” and “Blue Monday” never could).

Critical-darling-bands like The Velvet Underground (for me) arrived round about the time I started developing a taste for club soda and pricey British music rags like Q and the NME (right around late high school). And even then (and still now), every time I became of a victim of Music-Journalism-Hype-Syndrome and a new band (or a band new to me) would ultimately disappoint me, I would run screaming into the reassuring arms of my Queen records. If I had to quantify why their music in particular meant so much to me, all could say is that it makes me feel damn good. It goes back to what Duke Ellington said about Jazz (or was it Louie Armstrong?), that if you had to explain the music then you’ve already missed the point.

But I digress. As time past and music became The Center of My Universe and disposable income plunged headlong into entire back catalogs, I started taking in rock concerts like senior citizens entering the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. At one point or another I got to witness all my childhood heroes (in one incarnation or another) on stage. Except for one glaring omission and all that changed two nights ago.

AIDS took away Freddie Mercury nearly 15 years ago and with that snuffing out one of the most beloved bands of Classic Rock Era. Though Queen’s music has endured and flourished since his passing, the fans have had to settle for the occasional compilation as all band activity for obvious reasons ceased after Freddie’s death. Until now.

Now I have to admit I was really skeptical and naturally suspect when I heard Queen was touring with Paul Rodgers (of Bad Company…I mean WHAT THE FUCK?? Do I really want to hear the “Feel like Makin’ Love”-guy singing MY Queen songs????) All of us collectively scratched our heads and wondered out loud why they didn’t pick a Robbie Williams or a George Michael to front them (At least that would have made a bit more sense). But Bad Company Guy??? It was as if Paul McCartney had recruited Micky Dolenz to take Lennon’s spot on a reconstituted Beatles tour. Livid? Not quite. Disappointed? You betcha.

But time and reassurances from those who witnessed the new incarnation of Queen softened my stance. After all, so many second and third generation U.S. fans never got to see them at all (the band stopped touring America in the early ‘80s), so who am I to begrudge them for giving us an opportunity to hear this music live at all? We all know that it’s never going to be like it once was but something when done right and with taste is better than nothing at all.

So at the behest of one of the faithful, I accepted an invitation to see the “Queen + Paul Rodgers” show that came through town Monday night. My fears were eased almost immediately as what I initially perceived as a crass attempt to cash in on their legacy turned out to be a spirited celebration of Queen’s music and a very emotional tribute to the memory of Freddie Mercury. It was the best musical leap of faith I’ve ever made. All the cynicism this self-proclaimed Music Snob had went out the door as the lights dimmed and the band kicked into “Tie Your Mother Down”.

I can’t tell you how much it meant to here those songs live and with so many of the faithful singing along to them.

Hell it damn near made me a Paul Rodgers fan. Emphasis on the “damn near” part.

Here are some of the highlights:

Love of My Life (from “A Night At The Opera”) - Brian May sang and played this solo on his 12-string acoustic...the entire audience joined him for the chorus. Fucking beautiful

Dragon Attack (overlooked album track from “The Game”) - Just because they did it. Paul sang the shit out of this one. A real pleasant surprise.

Radio GaGa (One of their biggest ‘80s singles) Roger Taylor and Paul Rodgers shared the vocals, everyone clapped along appropriately during the chorus.

These Are The Days of Our Lives - Roger sang this track from the Innuendo album beautifully to a backdrop of early Queen footage. A very sentimental moment.

Under Pressure - This had the deepest emotional impact of all the songs, with Brian, Roger Taylor, and Paul Rodgers all sharing the vocals. Amazing. I've seen Bowie do this before, but this was better.

Bohemian Rhapsody - This really was moving as the band played live to a clip of Freddie to the first half of the song and during the middle part featured a montage of Freddie thru the years and then the band kicked in live for the end of the tune. Really Powerful.