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Let's get this out of the way right up front: Pink Floyd is acid music. always has been, always will be. The question regarding a Pink Floyd concert is not so much "how did the music sound?" as "was it a good trip?"
The other thing about Pink Floyd, and Wednesday night's show at the Oakland Coliseum was no exception, is that the group always shows you where your money is going. They've built the world's largest touring stage, got the world's greatest laser light show, brought out the 1994 version of the pig, tossed in some film projection on a circular screen above the band and a quadraphonic sound system that was near perfection. They set out, quite simply and successfully, to blow some minds.
Not that you have to be zoned to see the concert, and that we're advocating the use or abuse of illegal substances - heaven forbid. But tripping through a Pink Floyd show seems to be a rite of passage. That is why "Dark Side of the Moon" remains on the charts after a zillion years and that is why Pink Floyd can fill the cavernous Coliseum for 3 nights.
Any band that has been around for decades runs the risk of becoming a self-parody, and there is certainly an unmistaken "Spinal Tap" quality to Pink Floyd. With his gray hair and slight paunch, David Gilmour, guitarist and unquestioned Head Floyd since the departure a few years back of creative force Roger Waters, looks more like Mr. Goodwrench than Johnny B. Goode. And drummer Nick Mason looks as though he's trying to recall how to drive a stick shift after 15 years of cruising around the 'burbs in a Chrysler with an automatic transmission. He hits the skins like Ringo in those old clips from Shea Stadium - lame enough that he had a shadow drummer through the whole show to carry the beat.
And even the beyond-elaborate staging and lighting had that over-the-top feel, with 200 crew people on the tour, 48 trucks, 300 speaker cabinets, a 180-foot long, 80-foot high, 72-foot deep stage. This is the kind of excess that inspired Johnny Rotten to scribble "I hate" over his torn Pink Floyd t-shirt.
But the single most "Spinal Tap" element of the tour is the renowned Pink Floyd airship, the world's largest blimp, 194-feet long, 67 feet high, powered by 2 Porsche engines. You can just imagine Gilmour and the lads sitting around trying to come up with a topper to end all toppers: "I know, we'll get a bleeding blimp and float it over us and bounce lasers off of it and..." Trouble is, the blimp can only travel 62 miles an hour, 300 miles a day and when last seen, was left behind in Mexico, the band's last stop before the Bay Area. If all goes well, the blimp might catch up with the band in Boston, according to the record company. Honest.
Still, is the show worth $32.50? Without a doubt. Even if you don't like the new record, which is certainly pedestrian in the lyric department if nothing else, it hardly matters. Pink Floyd was multi-media before that was a word - or is it two words? In their nearly 20 song, 2 1/2 hour, double-set performance, Floyd tossed in enough songs from Dark Side of the Moon to reactivate any latent chemicals embedded in what's left of your brain. Us and Them, Breathe, Money, Time - it was a definite trip down foggy memory lane. Throw in Shine On You Crazy Diamond, On the Turning Away, Wish You Were Here, a smoking, first-set ending One of These Days and a rip-snorting Comfortably Numb and that's enough right there to satisfy anyone who showed up just to hear the music. and that's without mentioning the selections from The Wall.
Say what you will about David Gilmour, but the guy can still get a lot of sound out of that Fender. That is, as Pink Floyd has been since Waters left, "The David Gilmour Show," and the guitarist delivers crisp, clean licks, with extended forays into your skull. Along with drummer Mason and fellow Floydist Richard Wright on keyboards, the group was rounded out with bassist Guy Pratt, guitarist Tim Renwick, "percussionist" (read "drummer") Gary Wallis, sax man Dick Parry and three background vocalists. Credit has to go to sound engineer Andy Jackson and lighting and "show director" Mark Brickman for their contributions to the concert, since theirs was an integral part of the night's experience.
It's really tough to describe the visual aspects of the concerts, but here goes: imagine that there's a light guy who knows what it looks like when you're starting to see colors and movement that isn't necessarily there. Now imagine that this guy does everything he can, along with the musicians, to not only encourage any hallucinations you might be prone to, but to intensify them. Now figure in some really bizarre films that involve guys floating and flying and melting watches and slow motion guitars floating down a creek. Get the picture?
Pink Floyd may be shorter of breath and one day closer to death, but they still know how to take audiences places, with or without their consent. They certainly stretch the entertainment dollar a long way, and remember to put in for your frequent flyer miles.