Tuesday, September 16
Richard Wright of Pink Floyd finally lost his battle with cancer today. He was only 65. Perhaps the greatest conceptual rock band of our modern age, Pink Floyd mirrored the nihilism that plagued my generation. Like that of the roaring 20’s, 70’s youth blossomed after a debilitating war – one that challenged humanities moral fiber. It affected how my generation viewed their world. Simply put – we didn’t give a flying fuck. Neither did the members of Pink Floyd (or so it seemed). They’d been through the mill and come out the other side broken. All of us were like that – some more than others…..me, for instance. Wright’s music chronicled my inner life – every jagged piece. So seeing The Wall, Pink Floyds defining visual composition, was quite the epiphanal experience – you could almost say it flattened me. The only other film I can compare it to is Fantastic Planet. Both hit buttons, reviving buried memories, triggering intense emotions. With each film I walked away altered; but The Wall…..that experience was shattering. I’ve actually only been able to manage watching it a few times (too many nightmares, too many bad memories). Wright left Pink Floyd during The Wall’s creation – but his richly textured keyboards are threaded throughout every song. Gone, perhaps; but not forgotten – never forgotten.
God this makes me sad. My age is passing way too fast. I had expected life to last longer – to be fuller than it has. One by one all my hero’s are laid to dust. I cannot help but wonder who will be next.