That Great Gig in the Sky, indeed...

When I was young, I was raised on classic 80s rock. Pink Floyd is one of my dad's favourite bands... though I never shared that opinion until my late teens. In truth, the band's content and visual displays disturbed the crap out of me. I couldn't even tell what the lyrics were, but all I could see was the schoolmaster from The Wall, the marching hammers, the drug references, and the staggering analogies to World War II.

Not exactly child's play, even when said child was being raised in tandem on R-rated Schwarzenegger movies and Aliens.

But that's beside the point. In short, Pink Floyd scared me.

And now... now that I know what they were talking about, now that I can appreciate just how fantastic some of their songs really are, now that one of their bass lines convinced my to buy a bass guitar after I engraved it into my memory... I love 'em. Pink Floyd is utterly fantastic.

I got into a conversation regarding them with a Matt, one of the guitar teachers that taught me the bass line to Tool's 'Schism' (and bought me a Tool toque for Christmas) ... he came back from his break saying that he found a copy of Pink Floyd's 'Best Of' album (Echoes) at the nearby second-hand CD store and had reserved it in my name.

Actually, I'd seen that CD in there repeatedly for the past month, but this tipped me over into buying the damn thing.

And I'm very glad I did. True, it doesn't have Run Like Hell, but it still sent me into an entire evening of basking with my headphones on.

Such wonderful stuff... perfect for drawing.

Though, I've forgotten how incredibly depressing Pink Floyd can be. Exquisite poetry, but depressing...

---

It was just before dawn
One miserable morning in black forty-four
When the Forward Commander was told to sit tight
When he asked that his men be withdrawn
And the Generals gave thanks
As the other ranks
Held back the enemy tanks
For a while
And the Anzio Bridgehead was held for the price
Of a few hundred ordinary lives

And kind old King George
Sent Mother a note
When he heard that Father was gone
It was, I recall
In the form of a scroll
With gold leaf and all
And I found it one day
In a drawer of old photographs
Hidden away
And my eyes still grow damp
To remember His Majesty
Signed with his own rubber stamp

It was dark all around
There was frost on the ground
When the tigers broke free
And no one survived
From the Royal Fusiliers Company C
They were all left behind
Most of them dead
And the rest of them dying
And that's how the High Command took my Daddy
From me

-"When the Tigers Broke Free"

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Now, if I could only get over the fact that their early music sounds like they were trying for a 'hardcore Beatles' kind of bent...