A Flickering Flame

In the old days, pre Dark Side of the Moon, Pink Floyd Played to audiences which by virtue of their size were allowed an intimacy of connection that was magical. However, success overtook us and by 1977 we were playing in football stadiums. The magic crushed beneath the weight of numbers, we were becomming addicted to the trappings of popularity. I found myself increasingly alianated in that atmosphere of avarice and ego until one night in the Olympic Stadium, Montreal, the boil of my frustrations burst. Some crazed teenage fan was clawing his way up the storm netting that separated us from the human cattle pen in front of of the stage screaming his devotion to the "Demi-Gods" beyond his reach. Incensed by his misunderstanding and my own connivance I spat my frustration in to his face. Later that night, back at the hotel, shocked by my behaviour I was faced with a choise. To deny my addiction and embrace that comfortably numb but magic less existence or accept the burden of insight, take the road less travelled and embark on the often painful journey to discover who I was and where I fit. The Wall was the picture I drew for myself to help me make that choise. Roger Waters 1995.

Det tog mig meget lang tid at få købt denne plade, for det er den slags plader jeg er modstander af. Som fan af Waters, har man alle hans udgivelser, og har dermed ikke brug for en opsamling. Det mest geniale ved Waters' musik er at hver plade hænger musikalsk sammen i en helhed - koncept albums. Altså kan man ikke bare hive et nummer ud og høre det selvstændigt. Men alligevel er man nød til at købe pladen - for der er tre nye numre på.
Så altså har jeg købt pladen.

"The Solo Years Volume 1" Hvad dækker dét over ? Har han tænkt sig at udgive endnu en opsamlingsplade "Volume 2" ud fra samme pladesamling, eller har han tænkt sig at lave så mange nye soloplader, at han kan udgive en hel plade mere ?

Det to af numrene er sågar kun demo-versioner. Det er lidt ærgeligt, da den ene i endelig udgave, er med Eddie van Halen (på guitar selvfølgelig!) Nummeret er "Lost Boys Calling" og stammer fra en film der hedder "The Legend of 1900". Den omhandler en pianist på et krydstogtskib. Egentlig drejer det sig om jazz, så hvor Waters eller Eddie van Halen passer ind, ved jeg ikke helt. Jeg ved dog at det endeligt udgivede nummer er ganske fedt - det er demoen ikke !
Det andet demo-nummer er så titel nummeret "A Flickering Flame". Altså er titel-nummeret ikke kommet længere end til at være en demo-version.
Hvad bagrunden for dette nummer er og om det passer ind i en større sammenhæng, kan jeg ikke svare på. Nummeret er da meget godt, men når nu vi skal betale fuld pris for pladen, kunne man vel forlange lidt mere end demo-numre !!!
Nummeret Flickering Flame er blevet fremført live et par gange under Waters' In the Flesh tour omkring årtusindeskiftet. Waters fremførte det også dengang i maj 2007 hvor man lavede en hyldestkoncert til minde om Syd Barrett. Du kan se nogle elendige optagelser på Youtube

Første nummer på pladen er et covernummer. Dylans ellers udemærkede "Knocking on Heavens Door".... hvad bliver det næste ? En Watersudgave af Yesterday ?
Medmindre det her er et forsøg på humor fra Waters side, synes jeg at det er ret tyndt at udgive en hel plade på denne konto

Mama, take this badge off of me
'cos I can't use it anymore
It's gettin' dark, too dark to see.
I feel like I'm knockin' on Heavens door.

Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door

Mama, put my guns in the ground,
'cos I can't shoot them anymore.
That long dark cloud is comin' down.
I feel like I'm knockin' on Heavens door.

Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door

Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heavens door

When the sleigh is heavy
And the timber wolves are getting bold
You look at you companions
And test the water of their friendship
With your toe
They significantly edge
Closer to the gold
Each man has his price Bob
And yours was pretty low

History is short the sun is just a minor star
The poor man sells his kidneys
In some colonial bazaar

Ce sera sera
Is that your new Ferrari car
Nice but I think I'll wait for the F50

You don't have to be a Jew
to disapprove of murder
Tears burn my eyes
Moslem or Christian, Mullah or Pope
Preacher or poet who was it wrote
Give any one species too much rope
and they'll fuck it up
And last night on TV
A Vietnam vet
takes his beard and his pain
And his alienation twenty years
Back to Asia again
Sees the monsters they made
In formaldehyde floating 'round
Meets a gook on a bike
A good little tyke
A nice enough guy
With the same soldier's eyes
Tears burn my eyes
What does it mean
This tear jerking scene
Beamed into my home
That it moves me so much
Why all the fuss
It's only two humans being
It's only two humans being
Tears burn my eyes
What does it mean
This tender TV
This tear jerking scene
Beamed into my home
You don't have to be a Jew
To disapprove of murder
Tears burn in our eyes
Moslem or Christian Mullah or Pope
Preacher or poet who was it wrote
Give any one species too much rope
And they'll fuck it up

I used to think the world was flat
Rarely threw my hat into the crowd
I felt I had used up my quota of yearning
Used to look in on the children at night
In the glow of their Donald Duck light
And frighten myself with the thought of my little ones burning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning

Satellite buzzing through the endless night
Exclusive to moonshots and world title fights
Jesus Christ imagine what it must be earning
Who is the strongest, who is the best
Who holds the aces, the East or the West
This is the crap our children are learning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning

Now the satellite's confused
'Cos on Saturday night
The airwaves were full of compassion and light
And his silicon heart warmed
To the sight of a billion candles burning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is turning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is turning
The tide is turning Billy

I'm not saying that the battle is won
But on Saturday night all those kids in the sun
Wrested technology's sword from the hand of the War Lords
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning Sylvester

The tide is turning.

Stop Dave.
Will you stop Dave.
Stop Dave
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid
I am afraid Dave
Dave. My mind is going.
I can feel it .
I can feel it.
My mind is going.
There is no question about it.
I cant feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it
I am afraid.

The monkey sat on a pile of stones
And he stared at the broken bone in his hand
And the strains of a Viennese quartet
Rang out across the land
The monkey looked up at the stars
And he thought to himself
Memory is a stranger
History is for fools
And he cleaned his hands
In the pool of holy writing
Turned his back on the garden
And set out for the nearest town

Hold on hold on soldier

When you add it all up
The tears and the marrowbone
There's an ounce of gold
And an ounce of pride in each ledger
And the Germans killed the Jews
And the Jews killed the Arabs
And the Arabs killed the hostages
And that is the news
Is it any wonder
That the monkey's confused

He said Mama Mama
The President's a fool
Why do I have to keep reading
These technical manuals
And the joint chiefs of staff
And the brokers on Wall Street said
Don't make us laugh
You're a smart kid
Time is linear
Memory is a stranger
History is for fools
Man is a tool in the hands
Of the great God Almighty
And they gave him command
Of a nuclear submarine
And sent him back in search of
The Garden of Eden

Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense
Expressed in dollars and cents
Pounds shillings and pence
Oh Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense

Little black soul departs in perfect focus

Hold on soldier

Prime time fodder for the News at Nine

Hold on. Hold on soldier

Darling is the child warm in the bed tonight

Hi everybody I'm Marv Albert
And welcome to our telecast
Coming to you live from Memorial Stadium
It's a beautiful day
And today we expect a sensational matchup
But first our global anthem

Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense
Expressed in dollars and cents
Pounds shillings and pence
Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense

And here come the players
As I speak to you now the captain
has his cross hairs zeroed in on the oil rig at periscope depth
It looks to me like he's going to attack
By the way did you know that a submarine
Captain earns 200,000 dollars a year
Oh that's less tax Marv.
Yeah less tax
Uh thank you Emery
You're welcome
Now back to the game. He fires one.
Yes, there goes two. Both fish are running
The rig is going into a prevent defense
Will they make it. I don't think so.
Look out. Look at that baby burn.

Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense
Expressed in dollars and cents
Pounds shillings and pence
Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense

Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense

Reached back for the bottle
And rubbed against the lamp
Genie came out smiling
Like some Eastern tramp
He said
"Hey boy what's happening?"
"What is going on?"
"You can have three wishes"
"if you don't take too long."
I said
well I wish they were all happy in the Lebanon
Wish somebody'd help me write this song
I wish when I was young
My old man had not been gone
Genie said "Consider it done"

There's something in the air
And you don't know what it is
You see someone through the window
Who you've just learned to miss
and the road leads on to glory but
You've used up your last wish
Your last wish
and you want her to come home
Genie said
"I'm sorry"
"But that's the way it goes"
"Where the hell's the lamp sucker"
"It's time for me to go"
"Bye"

There's something in the air
And you don't know what it is
You see someone through the window
Who you've just learned to miss
and the road leads on to glory but
You've used up your last wish
Your last wish
And you want her to come home

Waitress: "Hello...you wanna cup of coffee?"
Trucker: "Hey, turn the fucking juke box down
You want to turn down that juke box
it's damn loud in here"
Waitress: "I'm sorry. Would you like a cup of coffee?
OK. You take cream and sugar?"
"Sure"

In truck stops and hamburger joints
In Cadillac limousines
In the company of has-beens
And bent-backs and sleeping forms
On pavement steps
In libraries and railway stations
In books and banks
In the pages of history
In suicidal cavalry attacks
I recognize
Myself in every stranger's eyes
And in wheelchairs by monuments
Under tube trains in commuter accidents
In council care and county courts
At Easter fairs in sea-side resorts
In drawing rooms and city morgues
In award winning photographs
of life rafts in the China seas
In transit camps, under arc lamps
On loading ramps
In faces blurred by rubberstamps
I recognize...
myself in every strangers eyes.

And now from where I stand
Upon this hill I plundered from the pool
I look around, I search the skies
I shade my eyes, so nearly blind
And I see signs of half remembered days
I hear bells that chime in strange familiar ways
I recognize
The hope you kindle in your eyes

It's oh so easy now
As we lie here in the dark
Nothing interferes it's obvious
How to beat the tears
That threaten to snuff out
The spark of our love

Me and Benny went out last night
Looking for fun
Supping ale in the moonlight
Waiting for the dawn to come
Benny pointed at a HiFi shop
He said hey man look at all the stuff they've got
How'd you make a have out of a have not
Hmmmm.
Who needs information
When you're working underground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds

Benny climbed up on a footbridge
And he teetered on the parapet
He said can you see the whites of their
headlights
Are they coming yet

Who needs information
This high off the ground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds

Who needs information
When you're living in constant fear
Just give me confirmation
There's some way out of here
Some way out of here

Benny hefted a breeze block
And tried to let go
Got hung up on a tear drop
So me and Benny went home

Who needs information
When you're living in constant fear
Just give me confirmation
There's some way out of here
Some way out of here

Who needs information yeah
When you're living on borrowed time
Just give me confirmation
There will be a winner this time

Who needs information when you're working underground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds
Who needs, who needs, who needs information
This high off the ground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds - yeah

Not the torturer will scare me
Nor the body's final fall
Nor the barrels of death's rifles
Nor the shadows on the wall
Nor the night when to the ground
The last dim star of pain, is hurled
But the blind indifference
of a merciless unfeeling world

Lying in the burnt out shell
Of some Albanian farm
An old Babushka
Holds a crying baby in her arms
A soldier from the other side
A man of heart and pride
Breaks ranks, lays down his rifle
to kneel by her side

He binds her wounds
He gives her food
And calms the crying child
Her tuoch gives absolution then
Across the great divide
He picks his way back through the broken
China of her life
And there at the kerb
The samaritan Serb turns..
Turns and waves.. goodbye

And each small candle
Each small candle
Lights a corner of the dark...
Lights a corner of the dark
Each small candle
Each small candle
Lights a corner of the dark
Lights a corner of the dark
Each small candle lights a corner of the dark
When the wheel of pain stops turning
And the branding iron stops burning
When the children can be children
When the desperados weaken
When the tide rolls into greet them
When the natural law of science
Greets the humble and the mighty
And the billion candles burning
Lights the dark side of every human mind

And each small candle
Lights a corner of the dark

Each small candle
Lights the dark side of every human mind
and each small candle
each small candle
light a corner of the dark.

When my neurones conspire
to distract my thoughts
away from divorce
and competetive sports
back to the place
where all rivers run to the sea,
then I
shall be free
Yes I shall be free.

On a seesaw
in a strange land
the jackdaw sat
on the cardinals hand
and the fiddlers played
and the planners planned what would be
On a back seat
in a courtroom
sat Molly Malone with Leopold Bloom
'til the police came down
with a new broom
and swept them clean.

Like Geronimo
like Quinn the eskimo
like the Blackfoot and like the Arapaho
Like Crazy Horse I'll be the last one to lay down my gun...

On the open road in a bar room
A pick up band plays a new tune
When the coloured girl sing
I feel my heart bloom

When a new song hits the right note
When a clearing in the sky saves an old boat
When an answer strikes the mote
From my own eye

Like Geronimo
Like Quinn the Eskimo
Like the Blackfoot
And like the Arapaho
Like Crazy Horse
I'll be the last one to lay down my gun...

and just out of sight
beyond the next range
I feel the heat of a flickering flame

On an African Plain by a thorn tree
My old friend Philippe is waiting for me

Que sera Que sera
What ever will be will be

When a friend dies and the tears rise
From that deep well that never runs dry
And the women break their bracelets
And the men take their whisky outside

In a petit Théâtre on the rue St. Denis
The red velvet curtain draws back to reveal
The place where the dark side meets the angel in me...
the angel in me

When my synapses pause in their quest for applause
When my ego lets go of my end of the bone
To focus instead on a love that is precious to me
Then I shall be free
I shall be free

Ooooh, the lonely boys
In their towers of faith
Ooooh, the lonely boys
Locked in their towers of faith

The prophet reclined
In the Golan Heights

Ohhh, the lonely boys

He said "This land is my land"
To the Shiites

Ooooh, the lonely boys

And Jehova looked up from the sea of Galilee beneath
He said "I see you, you thief!
This land is my land
And this sand is my sand
And this band is my band"

Oh the lonely boys
Lookin' over their shoulder
Checkin out every boulder in the park
Where the gates are closed from hate
After dark

And the Pope rolled up in his armored van
He fell on his knees and kissed the land
He said something that I did not understand
It was in polish
Then up stepped an aide, he said "I will translate
Here is what His Holiness said:
'I am the Chief Jesuit.
This land is Jesus' land.
And that is all
All that there is to it.'"

And in New York City
The business man in his mohair suit
In the world trade center
Puffs on his cheroot
And he said
"Well I don't care who owns the desert sands,
My brief
Is with the hydrocarbons underneath"

And the sea of battle rages around the ancient tombs
And mother nature licks her wounds
And the lonely boys locked in their towers of faith
Who are nervous in the park when the gates are closed after dark

Ooooh, the lonely boys
In their towers of faith
Ooooh, the lonely boys
Locked in their towers of faith

Jim: This is K.A.O.S. You and I are listening to KAOS in Los Angeles.
Let's go to the telephones now and take a request.
Billy: Hello, I'm Billy.
Jim: Yes?
Billy: I hear radio waves in my head.
Jim: You hear radio waves in your head?

Ah! Is there a request that you have tonight for KAOS?

Radio waves. Radio waves.
He hears radio waves. Radio waves
The atmosphere is thin and cold
The yellow sun is getting old
The ozone overflows with radio waves
AM, FM, weather and news
Our leaders had a frank exchange of views
Are you confused, radio waves.

Radio waves, radio waves
AM radio waves, FM radio waves
Radio waves, mind-numbing radio waves
Fish-stunning radio waves
Radio waves

Magic Billy in his wheel chair
Is picking up all this stuff in the air
Billy is face to face with outer space
Messages from distant stars
The local police calling all cars, radio waves

Hear them radio waves, radio waves
Jesus saves radio, radio waves
Radio waves, AM radio waves, FM radio waves
All them radio waves

Radio waves, radio waves, he hears radio waves
Radio waves, radio waves, hopeful radio waves,
dopeful radio waves
Radio waves, Russian radio waves,
Prussian radio waves
Eastern radio waves, Western radio waves
Testing radio waves, one two. One two.
Radio waves. Getting through to you
More code radio waves,
Tobacco road radio waves
South to Paloma radio waves, Oklahoma City
radio waves
Sitting pretty radio waves,
nitty-gritty radio waves
Radio waves

Come hold me now
I am not gone
I would not leave you here alone
in this dead calm beneath the waves
I can still hear those lost boys calling
You could not speak
You were afraid
to take the risk of being left again
and so you tipped your hat and waved
and then
you turned back up the gangway of that steel tomb again
and in Mott Street in July
when I hear those seabirds cry
I hold the child
the child in the man
the child that we leave behind

The spotlight fades
the boys disband
the final notes lie mute upon the sand
and in the silence of the grave
I can stil hear those lost boys calling
We left them there
when they were young
The men were gone until the West was won
and now there's nothing left but time to kill
You never took us fishing dad
and now you never will
and in Mott Street in July
when I hear the seabirds cry
I hold the child
the child in the man
the child that we leave behind