The moment that I learned of the Live8 concerts that were going to happen around the world my first
instinct was to buy a plane ticket to London. This was even before it was announced
that Roger Waters was going to join David Gilmour, Nick Mason and Richard Wright on stage
since 1981 (?). I wrote an email to a friend and told her that one would probably
never have to see another concert for the rest of their lives if they saw the London
show. Then it was later announced that the Floyd was going to play together. And my heart
was broken by both the fact that I was not going to be able to be there and out
of sheer joy for the band and it's fans for the fact that Pink Floyd was going
to play this gig together.
Much of the same thing happened on July 12th, 1985, during Live Aid. These two events were
eearily similar to me both as a fan of music and a person in general.
Because on the day Live Aid went down, I arrived in San Diego and I've been here ever since. And I arrived
just in time to catch the momentarily-re-united Jimmy Page and Robert Plant playing
together as "Led Zeppelin," the first time this had happened since the untimely
and tragic death of drummer John Bonham in late 1979. So Live Aid and Led Zeppelin
and Live8 and Pink Floyd. What a wonderful thing both were.
To be honest, watching Live8 was pretty emotional for me for so many reasons, signaling good
and bad, traumatic and ecstatic. It was difficult
watching it at times, and wonderful at others, causing a full run of emotions. Ever since I started
listening to Lincoln Park within the last year or so, I was thrilled to learn that that act
was added in Philadelphia and watched with envy as it took the stage and played a couple of numbers
with Jay Cee or someone like that. Switching over to London and seeing U2's "Beautiful Day"
catapaulted me back to the Sports Arena in March to the Vertigo Tour, and like many bands' choice
of songs to play on the day, it seemed to fit the playbill quite well. BoB Geldof's introduction
of the woman who was saved from poverty just prior to Madonna's set was moving and showed what
type of impact these types of efforts can have, even if it was just a small example.
While the TV set was on for the entire day I was also simultaneously online, reading breaking news
stories from the Live8 website, looking at photo slide shows and coverage on MSN, MTV and AOL. A few hours after the Madonna
set, an article appeared from a female Associated Press reporter that was in the press box
at Hyde Park and I read it enthusiastically. She described what it was like to have the priviledge of sitting
in the box and what it was like being a reporter there, and that hundreds of other reporters from many different
nations were all sitting next to each other, speaking many different languages. And during Madonna's set
and the introduction of the African woman who survived poverty, that there was barely a dry eye in the
press box among men and women there covering the day's events. I wish I could have been sitting there, that's for
sure, and that one article was probably the best one that I read all day long, from 10 a.m. to the close of the
coverage at about 6 p.m.
The way that Sting and U2 incorporated the same video, showing the Big Eight politicians of the G-8 Summit,
and changed their lyrics to match the day was somewhat brilliant but not unexpected. Watching Pete Townsend
and Roger Daultry of the Who was really hot and made me feel like I really should have caught one of their limited
shows on tour last year. Townsend's trademark cartwheeling guitar style and mastery of the fretboard
and the sound he was producing continues to amaze.
All this stuff was really fantastic, but it was only leading up to the main event for me and millions of
other people. And that was seeing and hearing and experiencing the Pink Floyd reunion. As it got later and later
in the day, my level of "nervousness," "anticipation, "antsyness," and a feeling of almost disbelief
began building upon my psyche like Bricks on the Wall stacked on top of each other. It was almost
like there was a feeling of complete denial that this was actually going to happen. I had recently moved
from one apartment to another and realized during one of MTV's extravagently long 15 minute commercial
breaks, that I had not put my Pink Floyd poster up on My Wall.
It's not your ordinary, average Pink Floyd poster. It's a serious piece of memorabilia. When I was 17 years old
I was in London for a year, and that year (1982-83) the movie, "The Wall" came out, and our family went into
Picadilly Circus to see the premiere of it at my demand. So we all took British Rail and the Tube
into the city to see it. Pink Floyd was (and arguably still is) my favorite
band (even though my obsession with Rush borders on insanity (honed, however, by my lunacy and love
generated by the music and messages of Pink Floyd which came first)). My mom knew early on how important rock music was to my life
during my teenage years (and today, too) and as we were leaving the theater (everyone was pretty wigged out!), she asked me if I wanted
the official poster for the movie, which was on sale inside. So I walked away with that poster, and later in life
my mom framed it for me perfectly, and it has been on My Wall everywhere I have lived since that night.
Rush fans and others alike will also be shocked to see my Pink Floyd vest. Again, all the Rush stuff
grew out of my love of the Floyd's music. Hardly anyone has seen my Floyd vest. But now everyone knows.
So now I had the poster up in my living room, the blank videotape recording in the VCR, all the news of the day
in my head, and London was going dark. Weeks in advance I talked to friends and other musicians about what they
thought Pink Floyd might play as a set, before the actual set list for them was released. This reunion became
somewhat of an obsession in my thoughts for a long time leading up to it. We all guessed immediately
something from the Wall and Dark Side of the Moon would be mandatory. I added that under the circumstances
and with Syd Barrett still where Syd Barrett might be, that my biggest guess would be "Wish You Were Here." My other
real guess was all three parts of "Another Brick in the Wall." Funny thing how it all came together when Pink Floyd
opened with "Breathe" (Dark Side of the Moon), moved appropriately into "Money" (another "appropriate" selection
for the day), slowed it down for "Wish You Were Here" and climaxed into "Comfortably Numb" to finish it all off.
The hard part was all the connections for me - Live Aid in 1985, Page and Plant, living in London and seeing the movie
The Wall, making my Pink Floyd Vest while in London, the poster that has been on My Wall for over 20 years, and the
fact that the stage at Hyde Park was situated in virtually the same spot as I remember spending lots of time there
when I was actually IN London. So when overhead shots showed the huge crowd and the stage there, man, it was just
SO hard sitting here and feeling and watching all of this go down.
It is really interesting to sum it up that way, and to add in all of my concert experiences over the years and where
these bands and this music has all taken me. Everything seems inter-connected, no matter what the band, no matter
what the venue. There have definitely been defining moments and performances that remain at the top of my mental
"Great Concert List" which usually consists of about 10 shows that I might be thinking of when another show
starts to unfold over an evening, and then the list might get juggled around a little but, but for the most part
the list has stayed the same for a long time. I really can't have Live Aid and Live8 in that list because I was
not at either of those events. But they figure heavily into the overall equation.
When MTV cut to the beginning of the Floyd's set I was flat out hammered down in shock and awe. They lead off
with a completely unexpected "Breathe" ("...and tears you'll cry") and I was 100 percent slack-jawed at what I was
seeing, probably along with millions of others. It took a few minutes to actually realize I was watching Roger
waters play the bass and sing, but then I started really watching the whole scene more closely. Many people who were
actually there might not have noticed it (the miracle of TV I guess), but Waters was so visibly nervous it
was almost indescribable. He was physically shaking, and when closeups of his right hand playing the bass strings
were shown you could see him trembling. His voice was crackling and trembling.
However, during the next song, "Money," there seemed to be a huge transformation outwardly within Waters, who then started
moving around the stage more and more, taking a couple of trips over to the drum kit, kicking up his leg and really started getting into
what I would call the groove, I guess, for lack of a better description. A LOT of things happened during "Money" that
added to the complete surreal experience that the entire thing was transforming into. And as a Floyd fan for so long,
it wasn't beyond my comprehension that this was happening to me. I was already primed and ready for a complete
nervous breakdown during this part of Live8, the Bricks on my Wall of anticipation only just a matter of moments
away from tumbling down.
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These two images are burned in my psyche in a psychedelic way. While living in Esher, Surrey, I went on a
search and destroy mission to find this well-known Pink Floyd landmark, and while cruising on board
British Rail going into Waterloo, lo and behold, there it was...what 17 year old living in London wouldn't go
completely nuts over the opportunity to come back to the U.S. with photos of the Batter Sea Power Plant?
I think I hallucinated that there actually WAS a flying pig between the smokestacks when I was taking
the photos. If there's any doubt that I took the photos, put it aside. They are originals from a
110mm point and shoot - standard issue for the day.
And crashing down they did come, with two of them landing so hard on my head I thought I was going to pass out.
The first Brick was not visible to people at Hyde Park. Because the camera on TV panned out showing the entire
stage, then all of a sudden - there on the screen was the Batter Sea Power Plant (or it's remnants thereof)
and I just started crying. As Pink Floyd entered into arguably the most intense part of the song, during
Gilmour's heavy solo about mid-way into the tune, just a full screen, zoomed in shot, hard and tight. I lost
it immediately. Someone behind the camera, an editor,
a Pink Floyd fan within the production crew - who knows who or why - but there it was. And the tears fell from my
face like those Bricks coming down from the Wall. Not just coming down, exploding, like at the end of the movie.
Unstopable. I had no problem with this. This is what Floyd is SUPPOSED to do to me. It is what I WANT it to do to me.
Seeing that landmark several miles in the background as a backdrop as the tune advanced into it's most intense moments
was a moment in musical history. I have never seen anything quite like it nor do I think I will see anything
of that significance emit such a response from me from a performance ever again. One of my goals as a Rush fan
was to travel to Toronto and see them play there. I managed to do that during the Test for Echo Tour and
had somewhat of the same reaction when Rush took to the stage at Molson Amphitheater for the first of two nights
of shows. But seeing that backdrop and Pink Floyd playing...even on TV I have to break down and admit
how impactful and powerful it was. I felt like I was honestly going to have a full-on seizure.
But the show must go on. As if those images and...feelings...weren't enough, "Money" continued to deliver the goods.
BIG time. During this song something else fantastically, truly BIZARRE happened. Was it fantastic? Was it bizarre?
What was it? See, that's the beauty of Pink Floyd. All this REALLY TRIPPY stuff starts happening when you listen
to them, see them, think of them..whatEVER. It's all just a surreal trip, that entire set. I was happy to be on it
but it has still left me in utter and total disbelief.
I knew for a fact that one person that I know was going to be in London for Live8 with the same specific intent I had
if I were going to be there, and that was to be there to see Pink Floyd. I knew it the moment I heard that the Floyd
was going to perform with Waters. Just like I knew
the songs that the Floyd might be breaking out, I just knew it. And admittedly I was seriously jealous of it.
For the Division Bell Tour in 1994, Charlene had flown over to London and seen Pink Floyd three consecutive
nights at Earl's Court. Not only that, she came back with some of the most fantastic photos of the band that I have
ever seen, since she's a photographer. She has major connections in this regard, and with Pink Floyd, much like
I have a few for Rush. Or maybe (sometimes like me) it's just straight up dumb luck.
So Charlene was another one of those Bricks on My Wall hanging above my head just waiting to fall (actually,
it's the one you don't see falling that hurts the most), and I just
knew she was there. What I did not anticipate or even conceive of in my wildest dreams was to actually SEE her there.
Or to see her there DURING the Floyd set. As if the Batter Sea Power Plant scene was not enough to catapult me
into a different state of consciousness, about three quarters of the way through "Money," there she was.
On the front railing, looking up, looking into the camera, with this huge smile on her face, unmistakeable
dimples and hair and smile. The shot showed
her Pink Floyd shirt at the bottom, panned upwards, showed the Pink Floyd lettering on her t-shirt,
then her face lit up in complete emotion and wonder, and at that moment my mouth dropped to the floor
and I got REALLY dizzy! "NO WAY!" I screamed out in...complete bliss. "NO FUCKING WAY!!!! THAT WAS CHARLENE!!! It was
a very momentary shot, maybe three seconds at best. Then maybe I was in denial. Was that really her? No. Couldn't
have been. No way. But it would make sense, I told myself. If Rush were there...it would have been me. If it
was Pink Floyd, it was her. So it was her. "Money" just delivered, that's all I can say about that, and the really
funny thing about Money is...well, it has such a significant attachment to Charlene and I that I won't even
begin to share it. Needless to say, it has nothing to do with real money, just with situational things that
happen that you associate with songs. Oh-My-God. Thank god for videotape, because upon further review
the touchdown stands.
Given the bizarre, far out, trippy (call it what you want) nature of Pink Floyd's music, message, presentation and appeal,
it was really no wonder all this was going down in my living room. I don't deny that at all. It's just hard to
believe. There were about 300,000 people at Hyde Park - just what in God's name were the odds of seeing
Charlene? I guess they were pretty good. I'm sure this is a defining moment for Charlene, and my tears of
awe at the spectacle on stage also combined with more for her - front row at Live8, on TV, 300,000 people in person,
some 20 to 50 million other viewers via TV and online, London...hell, I'm sure she'll be on the DVD that's
sure to follow without question. If you are fan like she is, traveled half way across the world to be there,
scored a killer seat and saw a band re-united...there just couldn't be any other type of defining
moment, could there? I translated my desire to be there as living vicariously through her presence,
and for the rest of the set knowing that she was verifiably there was really hot, no matter how bad
I wish I could have been there, wherever I might have been watching from. "Money." Brick. Brick. Brick.
All tumbling down. Just nod if you can hear me.
While the acoustical introduction to "Wish You Were Here" was playing, Waters stood up to the microphone and declared, in his soft,
still-nervous broken voice, looking inwardly (and back at Nick Mason and over to Gilmour) and being genuinely sincere (and only he knows what he was thinking
about or what was running through his mind when he said it - I'd love to ask him that!) "We're doing this one
for everyone who can't be here, especially for Syd." Brick. Brick. Brick. Brick. Brick. Brick. Falling
like the English rain. Predictable, hard, cold and chilling beyond one's wildest imagination.
The other beauty of television. My friend Charles is a drummer. He picks up things, either in music,
videos, DVDs, performances and whatnot, that I tend to overlook. I was so overcome by this whole thing
that I missed it, but the magic of rewinding to see Charlene 20 times also turned into rewinding the tape
back to "Wish You Were Here" because Charles wanted me to see something. Something so profound that I do not
know if anyone else caught it. Charles is really good at picking those things out, especially from sitting
behind the kit himself.
When Waters was singing about half way through "Wish You Were Here" Gilmour moved back to the drum kit
and there was a brief moment that a camera caught that Charles and I both agreed was the complete
defining moment of the performance. Gilmour went over to the front of the kit and looked at Nick Mason
and all of a sudden this HUGE smile came across Gilmour's face. Charles was right. What was that all about?
I just said they were having a good time. Nope. Charles said it was something like a smile of..."well, you know,
here we are, and Roger is singing and I'm not, and Waters has the front stage and the attention...and after
all these years of (me) being lead man, well..." And Charles was so incredibly right. I then said that
if someone would have gotten a photograph of that very moment it would probably have been the defining
image of the entire Live8 world-wide experience, and not only that, one of Rock's all-time live
concert shots in history. Of course, that's easy to say from one's living room, I guess. But I think
it's all true. Brick. Brick. Brick. Brick.
I think about, listen to and enjoy the song "Comfortably Numb" quite a bit (probably because I wish I could be
comfortably numb most of the time, at least I was now!), and it is quite possibly my favorite Floyd
song. The Wall and Animals rank about neck and neck as being my favorite works from this incredible
band. The guitar solo from "Comfortably Numb," if I remember correctly, is referred to by David Gilmour
as one of his best and most favorites as well. And given the overall situation with the reunion
(and the way I was feeling just watching it), closing out with that song was utterly
fantastic. It was the only song from the Wall epic, of course, and the real highlight outside
of the guitar solo (which was unfortunately cut in half by MTV fading out and going to a
break...good lord) was hearing Waters sing this song. Just the unmistakeable voice, exactly the
same as when he produced it. Just the fact that he was singing it
live with the rest of the band...oh my god. Brick. Brick. Brick. Brick. Clunk.
Like I think I said...the whole thing wrapped into one with the Floyd Finale - from a guy who's seen a lot
of acts in a lot of places, I think it pretty much was the concert to end all concerts from all the venues,
but with particular emphasis on Pink Floyd. Along with the bliss and the bricks, unfortunately
it might just be the last time anyone sees anything like that ever again from Pink Floyd. And I know that is
why I was watching, and I know that is why Charlene was there. I wish I could put into words what it all
felt like and I don't know if I've done a good job of it, because Pink Floyd's performance
was just out of the realm of my being able to amply put words to what it was like to see
that. It was strong enough to dredge up memories and photos from over 23 years ago, so I think that's
saying something.
- J
