In the beginning, God created the Earth.  Then for the next six days, he was a pretty busy boy until the 7th day, when he sat down, cracked open a beer, chilled out and watched the Hollyoaks omnibus.  Or so we were led to believe. 

I have it on good authority, that on the seventh day, the big man had a go at creating music, but then gave up when he realised he wasn't going to be as good as Pink Floyd. I was a late starter with 'The Floyd'. I dismissed them as a bunch of old men who'd had their day, took too many drugs and played 30 minute boring guitar solos that never seemed to end.  My, how I was mistaken. 

It was the tail end of a weekender a number of years ago when a good friend of mine dragged me to see The Australian Pink Floyd.  We're never going to see the real thing so we might as well make do with them was his reasoning.  So, reluctantly I agreed.  What the hell, I'll suffer through it. 

Now, I'm not sure if it was the weak state of mind I was in due to the weekender we were on, or if it was the thick belch of strange smelling smoke hitting my lungs as we walked into the venue, but within the first 5-10 minutes of being at that gig, I did something that I don't do very often I'm ashamed to say.  I admitted I was wrong!  But, more than that, I decided there and then that this was the music for me.  It wasn't the real Floyd but the music they were playing was real enough.  I fell in love with the Floyd. 

After that fateful night, I embarked upon a mission.  I wanted to get my hands on every album the Floyd made.  By hook and by crook, I would do it. The first one I purchased was Wish You Were Here. I loved the song, so the natural progression was that the album must be just as good.  Straight into the shop, bought it and when I came out and looked at it, I thought I'd been conned. "Wait a minute, what's this? 5 bloody songs!  Sod it; I'll pass judgement when I've listened to it". And my judgement came after the first listen.  From the haunting start of Shine on You Crazy Diamond, to Welcome to The Machine, the bluesy Have a Cigar, 5 plays of the genius Wish you Were Here and rounding off with the second half of Shine On.  5 songs, yes.  But by god, 5 absolutely amazing songs that would knock the socks off countless other albums. 

Then it happened.  I bought my second Floyd album and my view of how an album should be put together changed forever.  An album shouldn't be just a collection of songs; an album should be a complete end to end work.  What else but the now almost mythical Dark Side of the Moon.   To appreciate and get the most from Dark Side of The Moon, you have to listen to it from start to finish.  I was blown away and to this day, it remains my favourite album of all time (although, it has to share that honour with The Stone Roses). 

The quest continued and my collection grew. The Wall, Ummagumma, Animals, Piper at the Gates of Dawn and on and on.  I was never the biggest lover of the Sid Barrett era but without him there would be no Floyd, so there you go, I've given him a name check. I don't think there's many other bands out there where their fans have the same connection with each other. Floyd fans will know the feeling of affinity when you meet another Floyd Fan. "Heeey, you like the Floyd too? What's your favourite song?"  Sad? Yes. But worth it. 

You either get them or you don't and there's never any point of trying to persuade a non Floyd fan that they're great, their minds won't be changed by me or you.  That's why when writing this tribute, I didn't want to do a review of their songs and analyze them to the nth degree.  It's been done a million times before and I couldn't add anything that's not been said before.  I simply wanted to put down what Pink Floyd meant to me. 

It's one of my regrets that I never saw them live and with the sad passing of Richard Wright last year and the continuing animosity between David Gilmour and Roger Waters, I never will.  I missed my chance at Live 8 due to a combination of living on the other side of the country, having no money, having no ticket and having no transport.   The friend who introduced me to them in the first place went to that concert and fulfilled his dream of seeing them and to that I can only say "lucky bastard".

Posted In Gobshout Classics, Jul 08 2011. Words - Randy