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.
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. 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. 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 and have seen 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 queasy. 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
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