Pink Floyd and Philosophy, (Chapters 7-10)

One way to tell when you’re reading something written by a Socialist-leaning “academic” is that they love to use the word Capitalism.  And when they use it, it’s almost always used as a substitute for the word Greed.  What term do actual Capitalists use?  Usually something like “Economic Freedom” or “Free Market.”  The essays in this book – and, indeed, other books in this series that I have read – are written by mostly by professors and other ivory tower types.  “Intellectuals.”  Many of them deserve that title, but it has become a commonplace that our academia is riddled with “Socialists” or “Statists” or other Government Worshippers of some stripe.  And when Roger Waters gets accused of misunderstanding Capitalism, I chafe.  If he was one of those types, we would know.  He would have misused the word, too.

But some of the writers here seem to have escaped that trap.  And of course, philosophy pertains to many areas of thought other than political philosophy.  More interesting to me, in this work, is the focus on Aesthetics and Art.  Yes, Pink Floyd’s lyrics are a much more important aspect of their work than most bands, many of whom speak of practically nothing but romantic relationships in their lyrics.  But Pink Floyd’s music is very distinctive in other ways, as well.  Some of the analysis here is very insightful, bringing to light aspects that I hadn’t fully recognized before. 

“The band’s secret weapon for creating this artistic unity is a final, distinctive feature of their music – its leisurely pacing.  The band usually plays slowly, and avoids the aggressive, hectic, up-tempo sound favored by most rock bands.  This does more than lengthen the songs, however, for it also adds to the musical atmosphere in which listeners can really think and pay attention to the music, without feeling the kind of rush or excitement that Led Zeppelin or The Sex Pistols would put in play.  The slow pacing also underscores the clear, clean, uncluttered sound of Pink Floyd’s great albums.  Even with all the sonic ‘extras,’ such as sound effects and spoken narration, those recordings sound open and spacious, leaving ample room for the listener’s thoughtful response.”  This is the kind of analysis that brings a musician to a book like this to begin with. 

The band’s approach to recording their music is commented on as well:  “For example, consider Gilmour’s explanation of how he created his famous solo on ‘Comfortably Numb’ from The Wall: 'I just went into the studio and banged out five or six solos.  From there I just followed my usual procedure, which is to listen back to each solo and mark out bar lines, saying which bits are good.  In other words, I make a chart, putting ticks and crosses on different bars as I count through: two ticks if it’s really good, one tick if it’s good and cross if it’s no go.  Then I just follow the chart, whipping one fader up, then another fader, jumping from phrase to phrase and trying to make it a really nice solo all the way through…It wasn’t that difficult.'”  Seeing what an artist has to say about his Process is a special thrill for me, and I think an interesting insight, at least, for most non-musicians.

 

In any overview of philosophical writings you will, unfortunately, encounter the inevitable attempts – even on the part of “professionals” - to pass off gobbledy-goop as serious thought.  Yes, that probably means I just don’t get it.  But as I see more and more of it I become more and more convinced that a lot of it truly is junk.  It’s here, but one should just go ahead and read it, if only as a painful reminder that the junk is out there, cluttering more impressionable minds.  And the great thinkers [the ones I agree with?] echo that sentiment, so I don’t think I’m so incredibly dense myself. What a relief!





Next week's chapters: 11-15.