Yesterday, a headline caught my eye on the BBC News - Entertainment webpage...
"Aardman animates Pink Floyd trailer"
What's this?
Clicking on the link, I soon discovered that this year sees the 40th anniversary of the release of the Dark Side of the Moon album. That makes me feel old. And as I still listen to it a fair bit, it also makes me feel young too. After all, the sentiments it evokes are as fresh as the first time I heard those haunting chords and soaring vocals. Yeah, this a piece of music that can still speak to me.
I was unaware that Sir Tom Stoppard had written a play influenced by the music from the album, but if the spoken words on the video trailer are anything to go by, it should be worth tuning in to Radio 2 on Bank Holiday Monday. I hope you can make the time to listen. It will probably be available on the BBC Radio iPlayer as well, so you can catch it on a mobile device whilst you're on the run.
It seems quintessentially Pink Floyd quirky that there's a video trailer for a radio play based on an LP.
Any guesses which is my favourite line from the trailer? It's such a great pun that it made me gasp. C'mon, Tense, breathe.
Showing posts with label Pink Floyd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pink Floyd. Show all posts
Wednesday, 21 August 2013
Sunday, 4 April 2010
Think Pink
This morning, I am aroused from my slumbers by a sweet sound. It is not yet dawn and through the heavy drapes of the room it is not possible to detect an increase in light level, only a lessening of the darkness.
I lie there trying to resolve what my ears are telling me, wondering if I'm still asleep and dreaming.
The dawn chorus is well underway, in fact, as I regain consciousness, I realise that it is predominantly every male blackbird in the area. But behind their joyful song is the peeling of church bells. Ah, yes, Easter Sunday. This is most surreal. A combination of sounds that is as familiar as it is strange. Then understanding slowly rises over the horizon of my mind. Pink Floyd.
High Hopes from Floyd's The Division Bell album is framed by a Song Thrush and a tolling church bell, (as well as a piano, but that would be too strange at 05.54 on a Sunday morning). Intro and outro. It's simplicity belies the emotive power it stirs.
Other rock tracks spring to mind, Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells 3 that ends with a Robin and a Wren; Faerie Stories by PBF, with its Swifts and a Robin; and more humbly but increasingly rarer, House Sparrows on the intro to Xanadu by Rush. "Increasingly rarer"? That must be a contradiction, surely?
Bird song, bells and rock music, a heady combination. I think we know who are the real Priests of the Temples of Syrinx. I am sorry Geddy, Neil and Alex, but that little piece of anatomy that allows birds to flute and warble to such beautiful effect deserves a better press.
All is quiet now, except for the occasional Robin, a Wren here, a Song Thrush there, the bells are silent once more. Man and Nature have both welcomed the new day in a manner they see fit.
At least I know why the birds were singing, their devotion to their faith is bound to the seasons and the wheel of life.
I lie there trying to resolve what my ears are telling me, wondering if I'm still asleep and dreaming.
The dawn chorus is well underway, in fact, as I regain consciousness, I realise that it is predominantly every male blackbird in the area. But behind their joyful song is the peeling of church bells. Ah, yes, Easter Sunday. This is most surreal. A combination of sounds that is as familiar as it is strange. Then understanding slowly rises over the horizon of my mind. Pink Floyd.
High Hopes from Floyd's The Division Bell album is framed by a Song Thrush and a tolling church bell, (as well as a piano, but that would be too strange at 05.54 on a Sunday morning). Intro and outro. It's simplicity belies the emotive power it stirs.
Other rock tracks spring to mind, Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells 3 that ends with a Robin and a Wren; Faerie Stories by PBF, with its Swifts and a Robin; and more humbly but increasingly rarer, House Sparrows on the intro to Xanadu by Rush. "Increasingly rarer"? That must be a contradiction, surely?
Bird song, bells and rock music, a heady combination. I think we know who are the real Priests of the Temples of Syrinx. I am sorry Geddy, Neil and Alex, but that little piece of anatomy that allows birds to flute and warble to such beautiful effect deserves a better press.
All is quiet now, except for the occasional Robin, a Wren here, a Song Thrush there, the bells are silent once more. Man and Nature have both welcomed the new day in a manner they see fit.
At least I know why the birds were singing, their devotion to their faith is bound to the seasons and the wheel of life.
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