Remember midnight movies? I'm not talking about "Rocky Horror Picture Show," but rather those classic late nights of my well-spent youth watching rock and roll icons on the big screen. It was a ritual for me and my high-school buddies to stay up and see live concert films of arguably the best rock and roll bands of the era including Led Zeppelin, Yes, ELP, Pink Floyd and others. So when a buddy pointed me to a site promoting a "Big Screen Concert" for "One Night Only" of David Gilmour "The Guitar and Voice of Pink Floyd," my mind drifted back to those late nights.
So I was especially excited to hear that Gilmour's new CD "On An Island" and footage from his recent 10-week North American and European tour would be shown at movie theaters nationwide as part of Regal Cinemas and Big Screen Concerts "One Night Only" program. Because unfortunately when Gilmour announced he'd play two nights in Los Angeles, I was busy breaking my leg in Bolivia while riding my motorcycle around South America. Notwithstanding, several friends had tried to secure tickets to no avail. By the time I was recuperating stateside greedy e-Bayers were hawking tix to the show at hefty sums of $200 or more. I passed.
For those who know me, missing a performance by any Pink Floyd member takes serious discipline and would ultimately result in withdrawals and anxiety. For I've traveled to Berlin, Budapest, Quebec City and more to see Roger Waters and haven't missed David Gilmour or his version of Pink Floyd seeing him several times since his last small venue solo tour 20 years ago and his seemingly endless barrage of stadium shows over the last 20 years touring with Pink Fraud. But here he is now stripped of the name that filled stadiums and his pockets once again on the road playing small intimate theaters.
When the reviews started rolling in I felt nauseated and queazy == they were glowing -- Gilmour could do no wrong. As the adage goes, I only regret those things in life I chose not to do. Alas.
[...] a stunning rendition of 1971's 20-plus minute "Echoes,'' in which Gilmour and Wright traded lines on organ and guitar, bringing the band from a delicate whisper to hurricane strength several times. Gilmour treated this song like a fine wine, letting it air out, and keeping it true to its psychedelic roots, a wonderful mix of darkness and light [...] "Comfortably Numb,'' on which Gilmour, on a black stage, silhouetted in front of a white spotlight, reeled off a solo that made colors spin around the room. Then, one of the few rock artists who understands the importance of larger than life visuals, he let lasers paint the room too, using literal smoke and mirrors to create piercing three dimensional triangles and pulsing waves. [...] Gilmour proved to be a classic rock artist who still has a lot to say, and the discipline to make his older material sound new again. -- The San Jose Mercury News
[...] there was indeed the sense that we were getting a rare glimpse of one of a half-dozen or fewer true guitar giants left roaming the land. It's undeniable that, post-Waters, Gilmour hasn't really found a worthy bed for his skills. But even on lesser material, arguably, no other ax-slinger in rock did or does combine proficiency, soulfulness, emotiveness, and the very rare quality of economy as deftly. Who's gonna fill his shoes? John Mayer? Jack White? We get uncomfortably numb just thinking about it [...] - Entertainment Weekly
With my anticipation and expectations reaching new heights, I followed the link at Big Screen Concerts and punched in my AMEX Card number and promptly reserved my seat.
For one night on May 16, 2006 the Gilmour film would play in two Regal Cinema theaters in San Diego. I chose the UA theaters in downtown San Diego's kitsch Horton Plaza. This choice however was marred by either Regal's or Big Screen Concerts decision to show the 75 minute film in a theatre marred with poor sound quality and a distracting and irritating rectangular blue halo seemingly over-projected onto the film -- a far cry from the high-def and surround sound some sources promised. I hope and imagine that anyone attending one of the other 101 screenings across the country last night saw the film in its proper glory.
The film opens with Gilmour discussing his early 1900's houseboat, Astoria, which he has meticulously converted into a first-class, high-tech recording studio and where much of Gilmour's recent CD "On An Island" was recorded. The film cuts between Gilmour interviewed on a well worn leather sofa in the boats office and footage shot during the recording of "On An Island" on the boat and in Abbey Road Studios where additional space was required to record a full orchestra.
Gilmour candidly tells us that he was due to record a new album as he hadn't "recorded a proper album" in more than ten years, and to get it done he needed prodding from fellow and ex-Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera who also served as his co-producer on the album. He further admits that when it comes to lyrics he is strained and finds it very difficult. And while his wife Polly pens most of the simple and lacking lyrics of "On An Island" the album suffers from the same lack of angst, energy and creativity that plagued each of the post-Waters Floyd efforts "Momentary Lapse of Reason" and "Division Bell." To be fair, where all three records lack lyrically is mostly equalized by phenomenal trademark Gilmour melodies and guitar work.
As Gilmour discusses the recording of his new CD we sneak through his floating studio while Gilmour lazily sings while aging hipsters Graham Nash and an ill-looking David Crosby harmonize during the recording of "On An Island". The studio footage and interview are short and sweet but unfortunately marred by the UA theater's poor sound system. What did he say?
Soon we're slowly zooming into the stage at the 600 seat Mermaid Theatre in London while Gilmour, bathed and silhouetted in swath of white light, starts to play the opening notes of Castellorizon in what is the first ever live performance of "On An Island" -- a day after Gilmour's 60th birthday and the official worldwide release of "On An Island". Joined on stage by legendary Floyd keyboard player Richard Wright, guitarist Phil Manzanera, multi-instrumentalist Jon Carin, Steve DiStanislao on drums, Guy Pratt on bass and the infamous Dick Parry whose soulful and energetic sax work is heard on classic Floyd albums "Dark Side of the Moon" and "Wish You Were Here". Gilmour tells the sold-out crowd he'll play a few tunes from the new album and then some "oldies but goodies."
Gilmour then takes us through a melodic and guitar-infused journey through "On An Island", "The Blue", "Take A Breath" and a soulful and heart-wrenching rendition of perhaps "Island's" best cut, "Smile". It's then that the crowd shows life and emotion through it's gentle British-like applause as Gilmour plays the notes all too familiar with fans from "Shine On You Crazy Diamond." Playing the wonderful instrumental portion of the song with the power of the full band, Gilmour takes the lead sans band when slowly and assuredly steps up to the microphone and sings "Remember When You Were Young?" while taking us on on a new charted and unadulterated but minimalist version of the vocal part of this Floyd classic only to build to a magical and energetic climax and finale as Dick Parry blows his sax with more vigor and passion that perhaps he did on the record 31 years prior.
At this point in the film Gilmour tosses vocal duties to Floyd band mate Rick Wright for a lackluster vocal performance of "Division Bell's" "Wearing The Inside Out." It feels as if Rick has lost his voice, passion or desire to sing or perhaps it's just the first night's performance. Though amazingly 12 years old, Division Bell would be hardly hailed as a classic Floyd album, Gilmour's guitar performance punctuated by the staccato ringing DiStanislou's "division bell" could well be the highlight of the short film as Gilmour moves and bends his strings to a spine-tingling crescendo before gently bringing us down from his solo-infused high
Then with the opening notes of "Comfortably Numb" the audience eagerly awaits the opening lines, but when the anemic Richard Wright barely eked out "Hello? Hello? Is there anybody in there?" I squirmed uncomfortably in my theater chair feeling embarrassed for Wright who once again appeared listless and strained as he tried to sing Waters' part from Floyd's epic "The Wall". Yet once again where Wright disappointed Gilmour compensated in guitar work as he unleashed into the ubiquitous and arguably the genre-defining rock and roll guitar solo of all time. There's no question that Gilmour owns and comfortably sits on the throne of perhaps the best rock guitarist ever - and not because of speed, technical complexity or showmanship, but because he has such a command of the instrument that his seemingly effortless playing is ultimately the most soulful, melodic and powerful you'll ever hear.
I'm sorry I missed him "live."
Soon credits were rolling on the screen. I felt shorted and gipped and wanted more. The reviews I read of the tour touted Gilmour's reach into the past playing updated versions of "Echoes", "Fat Old Sun" and "Wots... Uh The Deal?" But here in San Diego at the UA Regal Cinemas in an auditorium plagued with bad sounds and defective film projection we weren't even treated to an encore. But not to worry. Maybe I can fly to Italy later this summer and catch him on the piazza in Firenze on his extended European tour. Or more practically, I can wait until the fall when I understand that Gilmour's performance at London's Royal Albert Hall later this month will be caught on camera under the direction of David Mallet who directed the 2002 David Gilmour In Concert DVD (which I reviewed here). I imagine the band will be more rehearsed, comfortable and on fire.
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