Pink Floyd enjoyed a series of group successes in the ’70s, building a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame resume along the way. The ’80s, however, would be much different.
Roger Waters had assumed a central role by the time Pink Floyd released 1983’s The Final Cut, creating the concept, writing the songs, even firing a co-founding bandmate. That led directly to the resumption of David Gilmour‘s solo career with 1984’s About Face, which included some songs Waters had rejected.
It got worse. Waters declared the end of Pink Floyd, then tried to sue when Gilmour and Nick Mason tried to move forward without him. He lost and a now Waters-less Pink Floyd returned with 1987’s A Momentary Lapse of Reason. Waters produced his own solo record, 1987’s Radio K.A.O.S., but the retooled Pink Floyd sold more than The Final Cut and Radio K.A.O.S. combined.
Despite it all, some great moments emerged. Here’s a look back at the Top 10 Pink Floyd ’80s Songs:
No. 10. “Yet Another Movie/Round and Round”
From: Pink Floyd’s Momentary Lapse of Reason (1987)
Roger Waters left Pink Floyd behind, calling the group a “spent force creatively.” He said their next LP proved it. But the dream-like “Yet Another Movie/Round and Round” represents the best of what the remaining guys still had to offer, with a buoyant keyboard signature, the appropriate lifting of soundbites from Casablanca (get it?, another movie?), and an extended elegiac coda in “Round and Round” — the latter of which was part of a trio of demos apparently rejected by Waters for The Final Cut. It’s a glimpse into the successes that the trio of David Gilmour, Richard Wright and Nick Mason mustered for 1994’s much-better The Division Bell.
No. 9. “Not Now John”
From: Pink Floyd’s The Final Cut (1983)
As Pink Floyd ceased to operate as a working group, Gilmour unleashed a lusty fury on his lone lead vocal for The Final Cut. The sentiment is made all the more menacing by the ironic backing vocals, which merrily chime in periodically with “f— all that.” The single edition of “Not Now John” softened things, overdubbing the line with something that sounds like “stuff all that.” Meanwhile, the lyrics on the sleeve (perhaps in a – we now know, failed – bid for airplay) read: “Stop all that.” In the end, any version would do. Waters and Pink Floyd were over.
No. 8. “Murder”
From: David Gilmour’s About Face (1984)
Solo projects immediately provided a much wider subject plain for Gilmour in an era when Pink Floyd records had become overt political screeds, while also showcasing his emotional side. As “Murder” proved, those emotions could be quite complex. This rangy exploration of his feelings about the assassination of John Lennon begins in a contemplative place before bluntly confronting its protagonist both lyrically and musically. Yet there remains a very un-Waters-like uncertainty running underneath it all. In the end, Gilmour admits that “none of the tears that we cry in sorrow or rage / can make any difference, or turn back the page.”
No. 7. “On the Turning Away”
From: Pink Floyd’s A Momentary Lapse of Reason (1987)
Rather Celtic in its construction, “On the Turning Away” is the closest Pink Floyd ever got to making a political statement after the now-departed Waters cemented their reputation as sharp-eyed social commentators. Gilmour probably figured that the first Pink Floyd LP without him simply wouldn’t be complete without a similar statement of purpose. It’s telling how different that statement turned out to be. Waters was confrontational, apt to punch back. Gilmour and co-writer Anthony Moore take a more encouraging approach, recognizing that we’re all prone to ignoring big problems but urging us all to follow our better angels.
No. 6. “The Gunner’s Dream”
From: Pink Floyd’s The Final Cut (1983)
The vivid centerpiece song from Waters’ last Pink Floyd record finds an airman falling to his death over Berlin while on a raid, wishing for a world safe from war as the smoke trails behind his wrecked plane. “The Gunner’s Dream” is a wonder of narrative economy. Every word is perfectly selected, right down to a borrowed phrase – “some corner of a foreign field” – from Rupert Brooke’s poem, The Soldier. And Waters’ vocal performance, tender where he might usually rage, is the best of his career. Finishing touches courtesy of Raphael Ravenscroft, best known for his sax work on Gerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street.”
No. 5. “Learning to Fly”
From: Pink Floyd’s A Momentary Lapse of Reason (1987)
Co-writer Anthony Moore provided another key assist on “Learning to Fly.” He’d originally entered Pink Floyd’s orbit when he was roommates with Ron Geesin, a Waters collaborator on the title track of 1970’s Atom Heart Mother. He’d return to collaborate with Gilmour as Pink Floyd moved forward without Waters. Moore ended up with credit on three songs, though Gilmour helped “Learning to Fly” reach new altitudes. There were “millions of rewrites,” Gilmour said in a 1988 interview. “Basically, the last verses were completely steered into a more positive thing – and I wrote the last verses.”
No. 4. “The Powers That Be”
From: Roger Waters’ Radio K.A.O.S. (1987)
Sequenced drums and programmed keyboards all but sink “The Powers That Be” on first listen. But sort through those aural missteps, and you’ll find a smart update of Waters’ patented call to arms against bloated bureaucracy and war-mongers: “They like fear and loathing / They like sheep’s clothing” — amid a deeply funky horn signature. It’s one of the highlights on an overstuffed concept album that gets tangled up in storylines about a kid with palsy who can receive radio waves, a Welsh coal miner who lost his job, a rebel disc jockey, the contemporary bombing of Libya and, eventually, a world-wide simulation of armageddon.
No. 3. “Your Possible Pasts”
From: Pink Floyd’s The Final Cut (1983)
Originally envisioned as a soundtrack to the motion-picture component of the multi-media project The Wall, this didactic project became a stand-alone effort when Waters became enraged by England’s involvement in the early-1980s Falkland Islands conflict. He was in full megalomaniac mode by now, having already sacked founding keyboardist Richard Wright, and subsequently relegated Gilmour to just four interludes. Still, each of Gilmour’s showcases is a coiled delight. He’s pushed into concise bursts of angry brilliance, particularly on this recommended last-gasp cut. But in the end, it all felt like pieced-together leftovers. After all, actor Bob Geldof had already recited part of the lyric from “Your Possible Pasts” in the The Wall film.
No. 2. “Out of the Blue”
From: David Gilmour’s About Face (1984)
“Out of the Blue” was said to have been at the demo stage in the run-up to The Final Cut, only to be discarded. This smartly episodic track would have done much to smooth out Waters’ didactic finale with Pink Floyd. Instead, Gilmour gathered a group of studio aces to complete the songs for About Face. This album also suffered from the era’s mechanized production sensibility, but “Out of the Blue” transcended its of-the-moment approach. Beginning as a diaphanous, quietly English meditation on the suddenness of our fates, Gilmour fills the song’s middle with a thunderous bit of rage, before settling into a perfectly conceived, open-ended conclusion.
No. 1. “Home”
From: Roger Waters’ Radio K.A.O.S. (1987)
Despite being part of a plasticine bid for MTV acceptance on Radio K.A.O.S., “Home” rings true as Waters challenges us to stand up to the creeping indignities that eventually coalesce into true injustice. He returned to “The Powers That Be” from this LP in later years, scuffing it up with a tough guitar riff. “Home” would’ve worked even better with its lyrical riff about unexpected personalities who might suddenly become the greatest danger to our everyday lives. Water couldn’t have known it, but he was neatly presupposing the sweeping fear that eventually gripped the U.S. in the wake of 9/11.
