‘Roger Waters: The Wall’ Finds Ex-Pink Floyd Member Exorcising Personal Trauma

Like the Grateful Dead, Pink Floyd are among the more misunderstood of rock bands. Both groups emerged from the 1960s underground only to find mainstream success in the ensuing decades, and are often criticized for reasons that have little to do with their music. In Floyd’s case, they’re frequently dismissed as pretentious prog-rockers, despite nary a Bach organ fugue or drum solo appearing anywhere in their discography (well, actually, there might be a drum solo lurking in it somewhere). While the members of the band were all excellent musicians, they never displayed their virtuosity in a garish manner. Sure, they had a fondness for concept albums, but they usually dealt with personal and political breakdowns, not whimsical fairy tales or wizardly fantasies.

Among those who unfairly dismissed them until he was about 30 years old, was I, your humble scribe. I can’t remember what the catalyst was, but overnight I went from hating them to loving them, and not the early Syd Barrett stuff – which has always had a certain hip cache – but the big hits you hear every day on classic rock radio. That said, one record I have never really taken to is 1979’s The Wall. Definitely a concept album, possibly a rock opera, it was the group’s last big hurrah, artistically speaking, and is one of their most enduring works.

The Wall was originally released as an 80-minute double album and has been adapted into a feature-length film and stage opera. It was creatively spearheaded by Pink Floyd bassist-singer-songwriter Roger Waters, and his attachment to the work is such that he retained copyright control of it after his acrimonious split with the band in 1985. In 2010, Waters launched an ambitious world tour with a 12-piece band playing the album in full. It spanned three years and is one of the highest grossing tours of all time. The 2014 film Roger Waters: The Wall, which is currently streaming on Starz, is both a concert film and personal rumination on its primal inspiration; the combat death of Waters’ father in World War II.

Drawing deep from the personal histories of Waters and Barrett, whose mental illness led to his ouster from the group in 1968, The Wall tells the story of a damaged rock star named Pink. He grows up without a father, is the victim of abuse at the hands of British schoolmasters, becomes a rock star, finds out his wife is cheating on him, has a nervous breakdown, imagines himself a fascist dictator and ultimately has some moment of self-actualization. I think. Keep in mind, though generally more high-brow than say, Bad Company lyrics, it’s a rock opera, not a novel, so don’t expect Steinbeck. The metaphorical “wall,” is what Pink builds around himself with each new trauma, an emotional defense mechanism which eventually leaves him dead inside or something like that. I think.

The concert footage reveals what must have been a breathtaking spectacle to observe first-hand. Borrowing an idea from Pink Floyd’s original 1980 tour in support of the album, a giant wall is constructed in front of the band over the course of the show, eventually obscuring them and becoming a blank canvas for eye-popping video graphics. The band itself is razor sharp, expertly bringing the songs to life, and Waters’ voice has lost none of its acrid power.

In between performances, Waters makes his way via vintage automobile through France and Italy, visiting the locales where his forbearers died. His grandfather was killed in 1916 in World War I, his father in 1944 in the Second World War.  As he reflects on two generations of Waters men being felled by war, you can understand his acerbic world view and moral outrage. Indeed, anti-war messages were one of the themes of the tour, though Waters is somewhat clumsy in explaining them and they are overpowered by the band’s musical triumphs and the production’s bombastic visuals.

While it must have been incredible to witness the show “in the flesh,” at over two hours running time, Roger Waters: The Wall is a bit of a slog. The problems are two-fold; for one, the concert, like the album itself, is too long. Besides the big hits, there are too many similar-sounding lyrical vehicles for a storyline that isn’t particularly compelling and doesn’t make much sense. I’m still not sure what the whole fascist dictator fantasy has to do with anything, and visuals which cast a critical eye on the foreign policies of Barack Obama grate given the current administration’s ongoing flirtation with authoritarianism.

The other problem is you can’t watch the performances and not miss Waters’ creative foil in Pink Floyd, David Gilmour. Vocalist Robbie Wyckoff and guitarists Dave Kilminster and Snowy White (who actually toured with Floyd in their heyday) do an admirable job singing and playing his parts, but lack Gilmour’s genteel soulfulness and bluesy finesse. When Roger Waters left Pink Floyd, both sides suffered artistically. The best rock bands are always the sum of their parts, and members aren’t easily replaceable. They’re not just bricks in a wall.

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician. Follow him on Twitter: @BHSmithNYC.

Where to stream Roger Waters The Wall