The Dark Side of the Moon

Udgivet 2023
Optaget og mixet på: Sargent Recorders, Mantis Studios, EastWest Studios, Strongroom. Fivestarstudios
Produceret af Gus Seyffert og Roger Waters

I 1973 udkom det helt store hit fra Pink Floyd. Lidt simpel matematik fortæller os, at pladen så har 50 års jubiløum i 2023. Det kan man markere på fler måder. EMI valgte at genudvgive den for gud ved hvilken gang, men denne gang i Atmos. Waters gik en lidt anden vej. Hans hyldest til det store mesterværk blev denne plade.
I stedet for at sætte mine ord på, kan du få Waters ord, som de står i det indlæg der følger med CD'en.

DSOTMXXXXX. Fifty years after the release of the original recording of DSOTM, I realised that the fucking warmongers hadn't got the message the first time around and I thought, maybe I should re-record it?
Partly as an homage to the great recording Nick and Rick and David and I made back in l973 and partly as a reminder that we're still killing the children and it's still wrong.
I mentioned the idea to Gus Seyffert and Sean Evans and after we'd all finished falling about laughing, "Re-make Darkside? Don't be fucking stupid, are you mad?" I said, ”Fuck it! Let's do it!"
If I'm honest, which I am, the production is mostly Gus's work. I do play bass on Any Colour You Like, and sing all the songs, and I did add all the new text, but for those of you who love/hate my singing, Gus was the one who insisted I sing everything. He said it was important that the man who wrote the lyrics should sing them. I wasn't so sure at the time, but it turns out he was right.
So here we are. It turned out spectacularly well. After I played a rough mix of it to my daughter India and my youngest son Jack a few weeks ago, India said, "lt's great Papa....It's the twenty-nine-year-old you, who wrote it, and the seventy-nine-year-old you now, looking at each other over the intervening fifty years, and reflecting." Fuck me, clever girt! I wish I'd said that!
Anyway, allhough it's my piece "wot I rote" (apologies to Ernie Wise), I didn't write every single note. Great Gig in The Sky and the chords for Us and Them are both Rick's. and both brilliant.
David, Rick, and Nick and I share music writing credits throughout the rest of the album. And, of course, David played the great guitar solos on Money and Time on the original recording. Nicky was, well Nicky, a truly great and underrated drummer, and, more importantly, my friend.
I'll be eighty in September. I have many good friends, and when I say good friends I mean, really, really, good friends. I am touring Europe, probably for the last time. What a privilege.
I have finally found my soulmate, my wife Kamilah. With her support, I find the strength to battle on. If I tilt at the odd windmill, so be it. And to all of you out there in punter-land? I have no doubt I sometimes disappoint some of you, so be it. We are all, after all, only human. Please rest assured I love you. Love, R

Og uden at dette skal være en pladeanmeldelse, så tror jeg godt at jeg kan røbe, at han skuffede mange her i "punter-land" - hvad det så end er. Og det er vel hans ret som kunstner.
Der fulgte som sagt en lille folder med pladen, hvor i der står en hel masse. Blandt andet ovenstående og så en del forklaringer til det nye der er på denne plade. Waters synger alt på pladen, og så læser han en del tekst ind imellem. Baggrunden for meget af dette redgør Waters for i teksten herunder:

The Added Texts:
The opening text is lyrics from a song, 'Free Four", that appears on "Obscured By Clouds," the soundtrack record from Barbet Schroeder's movie "La Vallee."
The text that begins "Today I awoke from a dream" was something I scribbled down upon waking from a dream on the 21st of July 2021. It's more or less as I jotted it down and runs all the way through ”On The Run” into the intro of "Time."
I love that the Atticus Finch voice "brooks no rebuttal," it is after all 'the voice of reason."
The Great Gig in the Sky: A few years ago, a friend of mine, the filmproducer Bob Shaye, sent me a book written by one of his old professors at University. The professor's name was Donatd Hall and the book was called "Essays After Eighty.' It is a delight and moved me greatly. I wrote to Bob and told him so. He forwarded my emaiI to Donald Hall. Donald said it was the best review he'd ever had. A bit later Bob and I went up to New Hampshire to take Don out to lunch. Lunch was a resounding success. Don and I became friends. I loved him. I only saw him again once. Two years Later, I was on tour and I drove the four hours from Boston, and sat with him for an hour and we talked. Here's a snatch of an email from my memoir: "We don't have to do lunch, we could twiddle our thumbs, though if we did, knowing you, you would see the funny side of it, and smile and one thing would lead to another, and before you could say Jackie Robinson we'd be talking about love. How hard is it to put your finger on it, just sitting there on the cusp of joy and pain? Like mercury in a petri dish, it squishes off. Fleeting glimpses." Don got tired after an hour.
A few months later I got the letter from Kendel. I miss my friend Donald Hall. Nuff said. And then the crossroads, where some of us are lucky enough to stand, and get the chance to choose between money and love. Just saying.
Heavyweights often go for the former, not always.
Us and Them? Any Colour You Like? Blue and yellow? Pink? Black? Red? Rainbow? Yeah, Rainbow! Enough said.
Except maybe at the very end - I'll tell you one thing Jerry, me old mucker - lt's not all dark.............is it? Happy ending sir?

The Memories of a man in his old age - are the deeds of a man in his prime
You shuffle in the gloom of the sick room – and talk to yourself as you die
for life is a short, warm moment - and death is a Long cold rest
You get your chance to try in the twinkling of an eye
Eighty years,with luck-or even less
so all aboard for the American tour and maybe. you'll make it to the top
But mind how you go - and I can tell you, 'cause I know
you may find it hard to get off
You are the angel of death - and I am the dead man's son
He was burried like a mole in a fox hole'
And everyone's still on the run

Breathe, breathe in the air
Don't be afraid to care
Leave, but don't leave me
Look around and choose your own ground
For long you live and high you fly
Smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry
And all you touch and all you see - is all your life will ever be

Run, rabbit, run - Dig that hole, forget the sun
And when at last the work is done
Don't sit down, it's time to dig another one

For long you live and high you fly
But only if you ride the tide - And ballanced on the biggest wave
You race towards an early grave

Today, I awoke from a dream
It was a revelation
Almost Patmosian,
whatever that means -
But that's evidently another story -
It began with some standard bullshit fight with evil-
In this case, an apparently allpowerful hooded and
cloaked figure -
We fled – Yes,'we' - I was not alone'
But there's no escape - You're on the tee' but theres nowhere to tee the ball up -
You're trying to pack, but the chaos is too great -
You can't remember where you parked the car -
The birds come over but the gun falls apart-
The train is late, or it doesn't stop-
Your hands are too big' the world is too small-
You don't mean to plunge the knife undet the waiters ribs- But somehow you do -
You push on the footbrake as hard as you can - But the car keeps rolling slowly forwards
onto the track -
Or backwards over the cliff -
Well it wasn't one of those – It was the final showdown -
The final confrontation between good and evil
He caught up- the wraith - He was strong- too strong to defeat in hand-to-hand -
We tried everything - It all boiled down and expanded out and up -
Into a sort of pilot wings video game over a circus site -
Guy Laliberté gone mad ' Canvas and people and towering smoke arches -
and juggling capsules and catching knives - and teamwork and comrades and it was complicated and exhausting - but we won the day -

We stood, exhausted but triumphant -
Smiling at one another -
Clasping forearms and hugging like bad Shakespearean actors -
But then we looked up, and around -
They were gathering anew above us - Darkening the sky -
Hordes and hordes - too many to count - Poised to attack - Overwhelming odds -
Against we happy few - We band of brothers -
We were prepared to die - Almost relieved to have given our all -
When just out of sight, to my right. just beyond the periphery of my vision -
like a raging bonfire in a high wind, someone spoke ' A voice, like
Atticus Finch - 'BEGONE' - the fire forward oblique voice ordained - it brooked no rebuttal
- the hordes dissolved - and all around the circus tents - open saloon cars full of
bad guys milled around to make their escape -
skidding in the mud – but there was nowhere to run - it was over - The voice had been there
all along - Hidden in the stones in the rivers - Hidden in all the books - Hidden in plain sight -
It was the voice of reason

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown
Waiting for someone or something
to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine,
staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long, and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older
shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over
Thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire

Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells

Dear Mr. Waters, - Don asked me to let you know that he is in hospital now, and has been
diagnosed with a cancer in his sinus. -
He also asked me to tell everyone that he is not answering any letters. -Best to you,
- Don's assistant Kendel.
And then I wrote to Kendel. - Dear Kendel. The other night in Zagreb, at the end of the
show, when I sometimes wax political, I suddenly found myself telling 10,000 Croats Don's ”One Road" story
I had no idea if they would get it. When I got to the line, "There is only one road in Jugoslavia,"
they burst into loud and genuine laughter.
I told them the rest of the story in brief, including Kirby's cancer, and reached the end.
There is only one road.

I stayed in touch with Kendel. - She lived a couple of hundred yards down the road from the farm house.
Somehow Don's plan for the Eagle farm to stay in the family never worked out and it went on the market.
Eventualty, an estate sale was organised and Kendel kept me informed.
It's a long drive. It was still light when we got there, so we went to the farm
and sat on the porch and chatted to a few people who were gathered there.
Some ladies intent on protecting Don's legacy, determined to at least buy his red chair, and some other important stuff.
I told Kendel that if it was okay with the estate,
I wouLd like a couple of bale hooks and some baling twine from the barn.
She organised that. Thank you, sweet Kendel.
Tears burn my eyes, my new old friend.
My bale hooks and twine arrived a few months Later, with a colour photograph af Don with Kendel.
They live - hooks, twine, and pic-slap-bang in the middle of some beautiful shelves we have on the landing.
In pride of place alongside some mummified drangonflies, and old robins' eggs.
Treasured - Forever catching the rays of the dying sun. - At that gin runniny time of the afternoon that I love
Well. R.I.P. Donald Hall. - And now I've arrived at the bit I was looking for. - The crossroads

Money - Get away
you get a good job with more pay and you're okay
Money - lt's a gas
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash
New car, caviar, four star, daydream
Think I'll buy me a football team
Money - Getback
I'm alright Jack, keep your hands off of my stack
Money -It's a hit
Don t give me that do goody good bullshit
I'm in the high fidelity first-class travelling set
I think I need a lear jet
A lear jet

Welcome to Hell
I'm sorry, I'll read that again
Welcome to Rooftops
I'm sorry. I'll read that again
Welcome to the Starlight Room
I'm sorry, I'll read that again
Welcome to the Underworld
And now, for tonight's main event: The Heavyweight
Close swaddled in the cloying folds of fat - the Heavyweight squats
Freak fearful on his stool
And through toad lids - He squints his vision of the world -
The grey parade of waiters trade
His retinue, of course
Seconds, thirds, and fourths
Cling, tick-Like, to his skin
The bell sounds
In the corner of the ring
A fresh contender for his crown
Puts out his pale hand to shake before the bout
The champion blinks - His sticky tongue
Swollen in greed - With cobra speed - Snakes out
It's lights out for the kid
His grace and wit, in that split second - Plucked, sucked, dissolved
Reduced to petty bulk- Digested -Shit
The champ, well satisfied - Adjusts his sumo backside on the stool
Draws 'round his cloak, breaks wind, out loud
The crowd howls its approval
But, in the shadow of the ring - With cloven hoof and a crooked grin
The Devil pats the briefcase that holds the faustian pact
He smiles, enjoys his little joke
Because, he knows, the champions cloak
Is but a shroud, in fact

Money - It's a crime
Share it fairly, but don't take a slice of my pie
Money - So they say
Is the root of all evil today
But if you ask for a rise
It's no surprise that they're giving none away
Away - Giving none away - Giving none away
How much ya givin' away? Uh...none
Nuffin

Us - And them
And after all we're only ordinary men
Me - And you
God only knows it's not what we would choose - to do

Forward he cried from the rear - And the front rank died
The general sat, and the lines on the map moved from side to side

Black - And blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
Up - And down
And in the end it's only round and round - and round

Haven't you heard, it's a battle of words - The poster bearer cried
Listen son, said the man with the gun - There's room for you inside

Down - And out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about
With - Without
And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about

Out of the way- It's a busy day- And I've got things on my mind
for want of the price- of tea and a slice -The old man died

It's hard to understand
Bombarded, as we are, by hard words
Like molecules – In an electron microscope
Battered from pillar to post
Trade
Men in suits
tactics and strategy
Barter in the time of love
Soft skin
A CAT scan slice of Life
A flag - Any colour you like
Blue and yellow
Pink
Red
Black
Rainbow-Yeah, rainbow

The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path
The lunatic is in the hall
The lunatics are in my hall
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You rearrange me 'til I'm sane
You lock the door – And throw away the key
And there's some-one in my head but it's not me

And if the cloud bursts thunder in your ear
You shout and no-one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

All that you touch - And all that you see
All that you taste - And all you feel
All that you love - And all that you hate
All you distrust - And all you save
All that you give - And all that you deal
All that you buy - Beg, borrow, or steal
And all you create - And all you destroy
And all that you do - And all that you say
And all that you eat - And everyone you meet
All that you slight - And everyone you fight
And all that is now - And all that is gone
And all thats to come - And everything under the sun is in tune
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

The Dark Side of the Moon - Redux