A Pink Floyd show in all but name
David Gilmour Royal Albert Hall
★★★★ ★
There is no such thing as “scaled back” Pink Floyd, so it was a relief that David Gilmour, on his first tour in almost a decade, gave us the full Floyd experience in all but name.
Much of Gilmour’s backing band were Floyd veterans, more than half the set list were Floyd songs, and the production was designed by the band’s long-term collaborator, Marc Brickman. The only thing preventing this from being a full-on Pink Floyd show was the absence of Nick Mason on drums and Roger Waters on guitar and vocal duties. But given that Gilmour and Waters don’t get on, that was never going to happen.
As Pink Floyd’s guitarist, Gilmour developed his own, uniquely articulate sound. And, as a single, icy guitar note pierced through the washes of synth during the opener, 5am – from his new album Rattle That Lock – it could have been no one but him on stage.
Then came the first big moment. To deploy Wish You Were Here so early showed the strength of Gilmour’s back catalogue. It was lusciously arranged and rapturously received. For the gentle A Boat Lies Waiting, a tribute to Floyd’s keyboard player Rick Wright, who died in 2008, Gilmour brought out “a couple of pals”: David Crosby and Graham Nash. Their harmonies were exceptional.
Gilmour opened the second half with Astronomy Domine from Floyd’s 1967 debut The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. All the psychedelic elements were there: rolling drums, lyrics about planets, pounding bass and flashing lights. It could have been a “happening” at the Sixties psychedelic hangout the UFO Club but for the generally subdued and mature crowd. During Run Like Hell, from The Wall, a single audience member wigged out in the aisle, all flailing limbs and spiralling hands. He was in danger of looking like a sole crusader until five other people joined him. Then a dozen more. By the song’s end the Albert Hall’s aisles were heaving.
The finale, Comfortably Numb, saw Crosby and Nash return to the stage for the third time. Crosby did the verse, Gilmour the chorus, and Nash thickened the soup with lavish harmonies. As Gilmour played that song’s famous second guitar solo under a ceiling of a thousand lasers, it was hard to imagine a better blend of atmosphere, visuals and sound.