It is interesting that in the case of Pink Floyd, everyone is much more permissive towards tributes, and this kind of thing is much more “legitimate”, more than once similar formations operate or receive extra media attention with the recommendation and support of former members or the official fanclub. And then there are official also national Pink Floyd tributes, who push serious arena tours around the world (if I remember correctly, the Australian version, for example, has already performed in our country).

Obviously, all this can be attributed to the fact that the band has not been active since the beginning of time, and has already outgrown its own legend in its lifetime, in Hungarian: today Pink Floyd is like, say, a play or the oeuvre of an old composer, and as such, it can be present in many different versions on the world’s most diverse stages. And those (and as long as) the old members are still alive can appear in any of them at any time or they can lead the project themselves. Of course, Roger Waters mainly pushes things related to the Wall, and of course he also plays his own music. at, and Nick Mason got the urge a couple of years ago to commemorate the early days of Floyd with a kind of club-band joyous music.

So it’s early, and strictly so: Nick Mason’s Saucerful Of Secrets doesn’t sell a bag cat not only with its name, but also with its show, they only play from the era before The Dark Side Of The Moon. Of course, this is far from attracting arena-level audience numbers, as it is a very divisive era for Floyd, but that’s a good thing. As I mentioned, Uncle Mason wanted to play music for joy and a close relationship with the audience, if you like, to be nostalgic about the times when they were watched by an average of a few hundred people, but even those more open-minded hippies and snobs didn’t necessarily understand what the composer wanted to say. Maybe the band itself didn’t understand it either, but in five decades things have cleared up enough to be able to appreciate its early era and recognize its values.

It depends on the individual and the taste, whether someone classifies one or another song or record as unlistenable or brilliant, but the work has absolutely stood the test of time, its influence is priceless, we still talk about it and argue about it, and it has a place in the panopticon of contemporary arts. I myself find Floyd’s music really enjoyable from Meddle, and indeed, there you can feel for the first time some kind of conscious producer influence, to make the music go in a (prog) rockier, more direct, tighter direction in accordance with the zeitgeist, and to make it sound like an atom. Accordingly, I was very happy that, compared to the 2020 concert album, One Of These Days was not played at the end, but started the concert with it, and of course there are few more perfect opening tracks in the history of the genre. Still, the performance here still seemed a little energized, perhaps because the sound hadn’t been nailed down yet, and it seemed too red-hot and drum-centered. Despite the drummer as the protagonist, I didn’t assume that this was intentional, and the sound image gradually came together, and after that everything sounded great, worthy of Park.

Of course, it’s really a matter of taste who likes old-Floyd, but this evening could still be a musical treat for anyone, after all, these songs were not forced by the mother band when they were active, and no matter how difficult they are to listen to on record, they turned out to be so pleasant and entertaining live. After all, we’re not writing about the early 70s anymore, so you definitely need a mind-altering drug to enjoy the concerts… Of course, it’s somewhat shocking that the latest track was also fifty years old, but that’s it, next year Dark Side will also be celebrating and the debut album was also published fifty-five years ago – somewhere, of course, these are really amazing distances, but after all, our brother Nick turned 78 in January this year (!), so he was considered a quasi-veteran even at the first change of era along with the others. Obviously, his musicians are several generations behind him, but his partner in the rhythm section is Guy Pratt, with whom he has played in Floyd since the mid-’80s (by the way, the late Richard Wright was his father-in-law and also his daughter’s grandfather – according to the relevant conference ).

Guitarist Gary Kemp is also not unknown to those familiar with the English scene, who, in addition to being a member of Spandau Ballet, is also an insignificant figure in his country as an actor-director, but if I understood correctly, he had already visited Hungary with Guy in connection with one of the Spandau parties in the 80s. Both of them sang, although Gary was the lead singer, of course, his voice came out great even on the softer, barrette themes – it was interesting to be confronted with Floyd’s influence on punk and Britpop live, yes, even for someone who doesn’t necessarily have a rock lexicon level, the picture comes together pushes floydism. The other guitarist, Lee Harris, and keyboardist Dom Beken, hiding behind the impressive synth park, are even younger than them, but they also contributed the best of their skills to the evening. Echoes was obviously the highlight for me due to the already mentioned Meddle sympathy, but listening to the early material again before the concert and, of course, enjoying SOS’s own concert album, there were plenty of interesting things outside of that as well. Setlist analysis fetishists can safely spare either the commenting or the annoyance, but since neither I nor the other Shock! no one in the editorial office, I can’t help with anything like that. However, based on my own knowledge, I can say that we got a comprehensive picture of the work of the early years, which, despite all its difficulty to absorb, there was never a dull moment in the show.

The band didn’t skimp on playing time either (although they started at three-thirty, so it ended a little earlier than the obligatory ten-hour concert, but the net two hours were still delivered smoothly) and they also supported the matter openly with screenings – the latter is also important because the visual has always been an important part of Floyd’s performances. Of course, we didn’t get Waters-level spectacle, but at least the demagogic mouthing was absent. What’s more, the whole thing had a very relaxed summer evening jamming feeling, presumably even at that time Mason was rather left out of the conflicts, the world-saving cleverness of the Artists, and the exaggerated concepts that sometimes settled on the music as well. Sure, what a drummer could do: bring the basics as and when needed. And let’s face it: he is one of the most underrated of his percussion contemporaries, even though his elegant, stylish playing has always added a lot to the overall picture. And he doesn’t push himself forward in his own band, not even as much as, say, – in a good sense – Carl Palmer does, but of course Floyd was never about explicit virtuosity. Well, let’s not go on with this, because at the end we’ll go into a musical snobbery, and I’ll have to open a red wine! A more pleasant start to summer than ever – and thank God, where else is the climax of a fully rebooted season!

Review Courtesy Of Nagy Marci

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