Tag Archive for "Pink Floyd" tag

Not that it’s gone quite to schedule, this announcement (well, does anything?), but you probably now know that there is video footage from last month’s charity event benefiting the Hoping Foundation and its surprise reunion – care of Roger Waters’ latest Facebook post.

Please don’t all go rushing over to the Hoping Foundation’s website (the link’s been left out on purpose); the video’s not there yet and, frankly, you’re overwhelming the server. It’s not going to be there until Monday at 5pm (UK). Thank you for your understanding.

Meanwhile, please enjoy the two-minute taster provided by Roger, now also available over on the DavidGilmour.com homepage.

We have David’s wife, Polly, to thank for the video, by the way. She gave it to Hoping for exclusive use on their website with the wish that you lot would perhaps consider making a modest donation in return for viewing it. A donation is not required, but would be much appreciated – as were the donations many of you have made since hearing of David’s involvement with the charity (which stands for ‘Hope and Optimism for Palestinians in the Next Generation’).

There’s no longer any need to check back on Sunday, but I look forward to hearing what you thought of the performance when you see the video proper on Monday.

Here’s something that David has been involved in, following the expected renewed interest in the genius of Syd Barrett since his sad passing in July 2006: an album of 12 of Syd’s songs, including six from Pink Floyd, entitled An Introduction to Syd Barrett.

It’s the first time that any Pink Floyd tracks have been compiled alongside Syd’s own. The Pink Floyd numbers are ‘Arnold Layne’, ‘See Emily Play’, ‘Apples and Oranges’ (in stereo), ‘Matilda Mother’ (remixed), ‘Chapter 24′ and ‘Bike’.

David has been involved in remixing some tracks at Astoria, along with Damon Iddins and Andy Jackson (‘Matilda Mother’, ‘Here I Go’, ‘Octopus’, ‘She Took a Long Cold Look’, ‘Octopus’), and has added bass guitar to ‘Here I Go’, as there was none originally.

Andy Jackson has remastered the others from the original analogue masters.

Of greatest interest to those who need no introduction to Syd, though, is the previously-unreleased 20-minute instrumental, ‘Rhamadan’. This is to be offered as an extra track for download, should you purchase either the CD or iTunes version of the album in its entirety.

The CD will be presented in a smart Digipak sleeve, designed by Storm Thorgerson, with the lyrics included in a 20-page booklet. It is due for release on and around Monday 4 October, depending on where in the world you find yourself, and should now gradually begin to appear on assorted sites available for pre-order.

Track listing as follows:

01. Arnold Layne
02. See Emily Play
03. Apples and Oranges (Stereo)
04. Matilda Mother (2010 Mix)
05. Chapter 24
06. Bike
07. Terrapin
08. Love You
09. Dark Globe
10. Here I Go (2010 Mix)
11. Octopus (2010 Mix)
12. She Took a Long Cool Look (2010 Mix)
13. If It’s In You
14. Baby Lemonade
15. Dominoes (2010 Mix)
16. Gigolo Aunt
17. Effervescing Elephant
18. Bob Dylan Blues

Well spotted, if you did spot it: ‘She Took a Long Cold Look’ is now called ‘She Took a Long Cool Look’.

A good mix of material representing the best possible introduction to Syd’s music for the uninitiated, do you think? And how about that ‘Rhamadan’ rarity finally getting an official release?

Have a good weekend, all. Check back on Sunday, if you can.

Today is the birthday of Brian May, legendary Queen guitarist, which gives me an excuse to play this monster of a track (and also pour further scorn on Gibson.com’s Top 50 Guitarists of All Time poll, as discussed previously, by noting his senseless exclusion). It’s the re-recording of Deep Purple’s ‘Smoke on the Water’ in aid of earthquake relief efforts in Armenia following the Spitak ‘quake of December 1988.

The earthquake was of a moderate size, measuring 6.9 on the Richter scale, yet aftershocks of up to 5.0 in magnitude continued for months in the area around the town of Spitak, which was virtually razed to the ground. Freezing winter temperatures and inadequate building construction contributed cruelly to the tragedy; some 25,000 people were killed, including 400 children at a school in Dzhrashen, south east of Spitak, and 80 per cent of medical professionals. A further 15,000 were injured and 517,000 made homeless.

For this cause, an international charity campaigner called Jon Dee suggested that the music industry ought to do something. David was the first to accept the call. It would also be the first time that he and Brian May had played together. (They’d go on to work on the 1991 Comic Relief charity single, ‘The Stonk’, which Brian May also produced.)

Recording began in July 1989 at Metropolis studios, Chiswick, London, and was completed over five sessions.

Taking it in turns with David and Brian on lead guitar were Ritchie Blackmore of Deep Purple and Black Sabbath’s Tony Iommi, as well as Alex Lifeson of Rush; respected session musician, Geoff Beauchamp, played rhythm guitar; vocal duties were shared by Bryan Adams, Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden, Deep Purple’s Ian Gillan and Paul Rodgers (how long have you got? Free, Bad Company, The Law, Queen…); with Chris “Fish” Squire of Yes on bass, Queen’s Roger Taylor on drums, Geoff Downes of Asia on Hammond organ and Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s Keith (Emerson) on keyboards.

Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones and Jon Lord of Deep Purple were also credited for their assistance behind the scenes.

So, all in all, not a bad line up.

The song spent six weeks in the UK charts, reaching a respectable No.39 in December 1989. (For old time’s sake, have a look at the other songs in the charts back then. How many of those do you remember and do you now appreciate all the more my use of the word “respectable”, considering the bland pap that kids were buying – for fun, nobody forced them – back then?)

An Earthquake album and video were released in 1990, consisting of original tracks donated by those involved (Pink Floyd’s ‘One Slip’ was included on the video). It was the first charity album to achieve ‘gold’ status in the UK. Together, the single, album and video raised an estimated $100,000.

Another noble effort, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Last October, those most actively involved in the project (Ian Gillan, Tony Iommi and Geoff Downes, as well as David and Brian May), together with organiser Jon Dee, were awarded a special Order of Honour on behalf of Armenian President, Prime Minister Tigran Sargsyan.

A 20th anniversary re-mix of Rock Aid Armenia’s ‘Smoke on the Water’, plus versions of the original mixes and a new re-edit of the promo video and ‘Making of…’ documentary, is to be released globally via iTunes this year, with the proceeds assisting further relief projects within the earthquake zone.

You can find out more about Rock Aid Armenia at this fine site, which includes some rather nice photos from the recording sessions and launch, and some not-at-all-nice ones of the crippling devastation caused by the earthquake.

As well as your thoughts on the song, album and video (best charity single ever?), I’d also like to know which are your favourites of Brian May’s work.

Happy Birthday also to drummer Ged Lynch, who, of course, played on On an Island – on ‘Take a Breath’. He was also the subject of our very first blog post.

Last night, Saturday 10 July, David performed at a charity event in aid of the Hoping Foundation (‘Hoping’ stands for ‘Hope and Optimism for Palestinians in the Next Generation’)… with one Roger Waters, who some of you might know.

There’s the photographic evidence, if you don’t believe me – from rehearsals.

The event, organised by Bella Freud and Karma Nabulsi, took place at Kiddington Hall country estate in Oxfordshire, England and raised a most welcome £350,000.

They performed four songs before 200 guests, accompanied by Guy Pratt (on bass and acoustic guitar), Harry Waters (on keyboards), Andy Newmark (on drums), Chester Kamen (on guitar) and Jonjo Grisdale (also on keyboards).

Songs were ‘To Know Him Is To Love Him’, which, I’m told, regularly featured in Pink Floyd sound checks way back when, followed by Pink Floyd favourites: ‘Wish You Were Here’, ‘Comfortably Numb’, and the one that got everybody singing along, ‘Another Brick in the Wall (Part Two)’.

Well, well, well… Bet you weren’t expecting that. Hoping, indeed.

Out of respect for today apparently being the anniversary of that incredible photo shoot on Saunton Sands, North Devon, where Storm Thorgerson’s vision of ‘a river of beds’ was realised, today’s topic is rather obvious.

It took 30 helpers, two articulated lorries and three tractors to move 700 wrought iron beds (complete with bedding) to achieve that unforgettable cover for Pink Floyd’s A Momentary Lapse of Reason – on this day in 1987. Also necessary were two photographers, one dog handler, five dogs, two models, one microlite glider, two attempts (rain scuppered the first shoot) and just short of £50 grand.

As Storm Thorgerson explains in his book, Mind Over Matter: The Images of Pink Floyd, the scene was to be set up in LA, but for lack of desired bed style.

So I got to thinking about all those album covers now embedded in the brain, some iconic (like everyone’s favourite Beatles montage), some bordering on the ridiculous (like Si Zentner & His Orchestra’s – always to include eight exclamation marks, if you please – The Swinging Eye!!!!!!!!) and wondered just how many of the very best record sleeves owe their lasting appeal to camera work and careful positioning of props, rather than computer-generated genius. Forget the pop art collage, textbook diagram, and clever assortments of script laced with doodles and squiggles; I only care to consider for now a photograph which may well have been enhanced later but was, in essence, something first seen through a lens and captured for posterity’s sake (and hopefully a handsome fee). No gadgetry or gimmickry, just a photographer and his, or her, camera of choice.

I, as I’m sure you, recall many an orderly group portrait and collection of often pretentious artistes posing for dramatic effect, as spoofed in South Park (Season 7, Episode 9) with Cartman directing a shoot for his album cover with Christian rock band, Faith + 1. (Best South Park episode ever? OK, some other time.)

For whatever reason, these came to mind first:

- Bob Dylan, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan
- Oasis, Definitely Maybe
- Bruce Springsteen, Born in the USA

Then, inevitably, I thought of those deemed to be unsuitable for public viewing and sold wrapped in plain brown paper, like a drunkard’s bottle of cheap cider:

- Blind Faith, Blind Faith
- John Lennon & Yoko Ono, Unfinished Music No.1: Two Virgins
- Roxy Music, Country Life

There are those that perhaps say more about the performer and his or her reputation than the actual album’s content:

- Eminem, The Marshall Mathers LP
- Fleetwood Mac, Rumours
- The Who, Who’s Next

Those with a carefully-choreographed shot of the people behind the music, as VH1 would say, who are very much aware of the camera and possibly in silly dress:

- Beatles, Beatles For Sale
- Blondie, Blondie
- George Harrison, All Things Must Pass

Or they’re being cool and most likely pretending to be unaware of the camera:

- Eric Clapton, Backless
- Neil Diamond, Home Before Dark
- The Libertines, The Libertines

Then there are those who are so obviously posing:

- Joni Mitchell, Hits
- The Streets, The Hardest Way To Make an Easy Living
- Travis, The Man Who

And perhaps the best of the bunch are those no-nonsense, all-action, hard-at-work snaps:

- Jeff Buckley, Grace
- The Clash, London Calling
- The Kooks, Inside In, Inside Out

Then you have the arty and/or downright bizarre, with models used in place of the performer for reasons sometimes best left unexplained:

- The Doors, Strange Days
- Mark Knopfler, The Ragpicker’s Dream
- U2, Boy

Those that try to say something about the music without showing the performer(s), preferring instead obscure, curious and seemingly random ‘things’:

- Blur, Parklife
- Paul McCartney, Run Devil Run
- Primal Scream, Riot City Blues

Not forgetting the beautiful, atmospheric scenes where performer, if included at all, is of secondary importance to the surrounding backdrop:

- Eagles, Long Road Out of Eden
- Echo & The Bunnymen, Heaven Up Here
- Van Morrison, The Philosopher’s Stone

What do you think: are any of these in any way more effective, memorable, or indeed suitable than something like, say, Tubular Bells or Bat Out of Hell? Analyse all you can bear, but sometimes you either like something or you don’t, and I’m keen to know which you do and which you do not.

The Resistance by Muse was voted Best Art Vinyl of 2009, with Manic Street Preachers’ (utterly horrid, sorry) Journal For Plague Lovers and Fever Ray’s self-titled album coming in second and third place respectively. None are photographs as such, but you can see the full list of 25 covers here.

Previous winners include the Fleet Foxes for their eponymous 2008 debut (part of Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s 1559 piece, ‘Netherlandish Proverbs’), Man’s Needs, Woman’s Needs, Whatever by The Cribs (in 2007), Thom Yorke’s The Eraser (in 2006) and Hard Fi’s Stars of CCTV (in 2005). Of these, only one is a photograph.

If you’ve an hour to wile away, remember: there’s always Sleeveface.

If you’re fortunate enough to have two hours to play around with, you may find this album atlas, compiled by readers of Word magazine and showing where many a record sleeve photo was taken, pointlessly educational… I know I did.

Sticking with the Sixties and in honour of Are You Experienced?, the debut album by Jimi Hendrix, which was released in the UK on this day in 1967, let’s allow our wandering minds to go wafting back to the Summer of Love, of ‘Strange Days’ and ‘Nights in White Satin’.

Genesis and Jethro Tull formed. Pink Floyd’s debut album, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, was released, as were the hit singles ‘Arnold Layne’ and ‘See Emily Play’, where Syd’s star shone most brightly. David Bowie put out a first album, as did The Doors, Traffic, Velvet Underground and Leonard Cohen (just about).

It had everything we’ve come to expect from a prominent year in music: a celebrated festival (Monterey), something nauseating hogging the charts for several months (The Sound of Music), lots of bands with ridiculous names, and more rock and pop variants than you could wave a white bicycle at. Yes, a lot of it sounds unforgivably fey now, but what a tremendous time to love music, to follow its progress through the charts and to catch it live and on air.

I have to pick ten songs. Anything less than ten would be silly.

- The Box Tops, ‘The Letter’
- Dave Davies, ‘Death of a Clown’
- Donovan, ‘Wear Your Love Like Heaven’
- Joni Mitchell, ‘Both Sides Now’
- The Move, ‘Flowers in the Rain’
- The Rolling Stones, ‘She’s a Rainbow’
- Small Faces, ‘Itchycoo Park’
- The Tremeloes, ‘Even the Bad Times are Good’
- Van Morrison, ‘ Brown-Eyed Girl’
- Jackie Wilson, ‘Higher and Higher’

Albums, also. How could you pick out a key song from, say, Sgt Pepper’s? (Oh, alright; of course it would be ‘A Day in the Life’ every time.)

Leaving out the most obvious and those already mentioned here, as well as Cream’s Disraeli Gears, Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow and A Hard Road by John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, because I’ve lavished praise on them in previous posts and it would be nice to pick out something less predictable, here are a few more from 1967 which I’m fond of:

- The Hobbits, Down to Middle Earth
- The Kinks, Something Else by…
- Magic Sam Blues Band, West Side Soul
- Moby Grape, Moby Grape
- Skip Bifferty, Skip Bifferty

Looking forward to seeing what you’ve chosen.

When you’re done, if you still can’t get enough of 1967, here’s a nice little quiz.

This was the Number One song in the USA’s Billboard Hot 100 chart on this day in 1982: ‘I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll’ by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.

Here are a few that I liked then and still appreciate now:

- The Clash, ‘Rock the Casbah’
- Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five, ‘The Message’
- The Jam, ‘Town Called Malice’
- Survivor, ‘Eye Of the Tiger’
- Kim Wilde, ‘Kids In America’

There was only one album for me at the time, though: Thriller. Lots more now, of course, including some fantastic cover art (Depeche Mode’s A Broken Frame springs to mind).

A few more, then, perhaps less well-known:

- Aerosmith, ‘Bolivian Ragamuffin’ (from Rock In a Hard Place)
- The Gun Club, ‘Mother of Earth’ (from Miami)
- Paul McCartney, ‘Ballroom Dancing’ (from Tug Of War)
- Robert Plant, ‘Moonlight In Samosa’ (from Pictures at Eleven)
- Bobb Trimble, ‘If Words Were All I Had’ (from Harvest Of Dreams)

As an aside, one of the songs of 1982, which made it into the Top Ten of the Billboard Hot 100 in March, was ‘Pac-Man Fever’ by Buckner and Garcia. It was one track from their album of the same name, which was made up of songs about different classic arcade games and featured samples and sound effects from each, such as Donkey Kong and Centipede. Remember them?

If anyone wishes to recall the video games they played in or around 1982, either at an arcade or at home on their Atari 2600 (with the very square, very stiff joystick) or perhaps Commodore 64 (which was launched in 1982), I’ll be happy to join you in your retro reminiscences.

And what of the movies we watched when our poor wrists and index fingers were sore? ‘Twas the year of E.T., Poltergeist… and Pink Floyd: The Wall.

Thanks for bearing with me while I took some time off to re-charge worn batteries. I hope you’re all keeping well and didn’t miss me, or each other, too much.

I’ll return straight to randomness with today’s topic… for when words just seem to get in the way.

This was top of the US charts in 1958: The Champs and ‘Tequila’.

There are many, but let me know your favourites – from David solo and with Pink Floyd, too. (Best ever: ‘Marooned’ from The Division Bell? It won Best Rock Instrumental Performance at the Grammys in 1994.)

Jeff Beck is the award’s latest recipient, by the way, with his version of the Beatles’ ‘A Day in the Life’. You can search for past winners here; be sure to select Rock as your Genre.

Here are some that stand out in my mind, perhaps unforgivably leaving out many by Jeff Beck, Mike Oldfield and Carlos Santana; only including one Ginger Baker drum solo; and deliberately omitting ‘Albatross’, ‘Apache’, ‘Anji’ and probably several others which begin with the letter A and are very worthy of inclusion:

- Booker T & The MGs, ‘Green Onions’
- The Dave Brubeck Quartet, ‘Take Five’
- Cream, ‘Toad’
- Traffic, ‘Glad’
- The Who, ‘Underture’

If you’ve missed chatting, you can do so tomorrow from 3pm (UK). See you there.

A little quiz to end the week with.

Below are some very fine opening lines to songs. Can you identify them all?

Please add any other examples worthy of note – the ones that earn the swiftest of cheers at concerts as mass recognition kicks in, the ones that hook you in from the get-go as they’re indicative of a good story or trigger your emotions – but please hold back the artist and song title so that we can all play the guessing game for at least a short while. (Much needed exercise for a tired brain on a Friday?)

I know that you’ll know these three, all from the same album:

“Did you know it was all going to go so wrong for you?”
“Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young”
“Where were you when I was burned and broken?”

Speaking of that album (The Division Bell, if you need help), time is running out on Royal Mail’s Big Month of Music promotion. Purchase those special Pink Floyd stamps online and your name, as long as you’re a UK resident aged 18 or over, will be entered into the next daily prize draw to win iTunes gift cards totalling £1,000. The last daily draw is on Wednesday 31 March.

If you have some already, do tell: have you used them, or stashed them away for safekeeping?

Well, that’s all for another week. Have a good weekend, don’t forget Earth Hour tomorrow… and remember: no cheating.

01. “There is a house in New Orleans”
02. “Sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land”
03. “I look over yonder, hot sun turning over”
04. “Tommy used to work on the docks”
05. “The wind is in from Africa and last night I couldn’t sleep”
06. “I was dreaming when I wrote this”
07. “I met a Frenchman in a field last night, he was out there with an easel”
08. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day”
09. “Psychic spies from China try to steal your mind’s elation”
10. “I’m in the phone booth, it’s the one across the hall”
11. “Libraries gave us power, then work came and made us free”
12. “If not for you, babe, I couldn’t find the door”
13. “All I can say is that my life is pretty plain”
14. “This happened once before when I came to your door”
15. “She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene”
16. “Everybody’s talking and no-one says a word”
17. “Richard’s on the street with all the lonely people trying to get a job”
18. “You know you could’ve been a wonder”
19. “I just wanna ask the question: Who really cares?”
20. “Childhood living is easy to do”
21. “I like to dream right between the sound machine”
22. “Hello, Darkness, my old friend”
23. “There she stood in the street, smiling from her head to her feet”
24. “When they poured across the border, I was cautioned to surrender”
25. “I am the key to the lock in your house”

‘A Horse with No Name’, the debut single from two-thirds American America, was top of the charts in the USA on this day in 1972 – according to Billboard magazine. And here it is for you to enjoy all over again. (Never mind the accusations of glorifying heroin use, how they got away with a line as badly written as ‘'Cause there ain’t no-one for to give you no pain’ amazes me.)

It’s been a while since we racked our brains (we managed it for 2006, 1983, 1975, 1969 and 1966, and this has got to be a more interesting year than the next one open to scrutiny, which will be nineteen ninety-something), so what have you got for this, the year of Obscured by Clouds?

The most well-known tracks are probably ‘American Pie’ by Don McLean, ‘Heart of Gold’ by Neil Young and ‘School’s Out’ by Alice Cooper, but there was a lot of good music in 1972… obviously ignoring those bloody Hillside Singers, who apparently wanted to teach the world to sing – in perfect harmony, no less – yet whose real ‘achievement’ was in making a sizeable portion of its populace feel sick and compelled to buy a leading brand of cola. And maybe even more sick as a result of drinking too much of the stuff.

Here are some of my favourites from 1972, anyway:

- Al Green, ‘Let’s Stay Together’
- Elton John, ‘Rocket Man’
- The Raspberries, ‘Go All the Way’
- Rolling Stones, ‘Ventilator Blues’
- War, ‘Slippin’ Into Darkness’

I’ll apologise now, as I know that someone’s innocent eyes, in scanning for songs from this year, will inevitably flicker over the name ‘Three Dog Night’; I can’t help but feel responsible that someone, somewhere is therefore highly likely to have ‘Black and White’ playing on repeat inside their head for some time afterwards. (Was anyone else forced to sing this song at school?)

Should you find yourself afflicted by the recurring melody of this loathsome tune or damaged in some slight yet irreversible way by its selfish use of the cowbell, compiling an A to Z of tunes from 1972, as some of us did for 1982, should help.

If not, there’s always the Hillside Singers and sugary carbonated beverages.

Oh, and as it was something we chatted about recently during a rare voyage into ‘The Music of David Gilmour and Pink Floyd’: Which other Obscured by Clouds track do you think would have slotted most easily into David’s 2006 live set?

I expect you’ve now heard the news that Pink Floyd were victorious in their legal case against troubled record label, EMI, which reached its conclusion yesterday.

In a lawsuit filed last April, lawyers acting for the band argued that EMI should not be entitled to sell Pink Floyd’s extensive back catalogue – a back catalogue second only to that of the Beatles’ in terms of value – as individual tracks online so as to “preserve the artistic integrity of the albums”.

EMI argued that the contentious clause in Pink Floyd’s latest contract, signed in 1999, five years before the boom in legal digital downloads (which states that they have no right to sell any of Pink Floyd’s music as single tracks other than with the band’s express permission), only applied to physical copies and not digital ones.

EMI were ordered to pay an estimated £60,000 in costs, with fines still to be decided, and banned from selling Pink Floyd’s music online.

A challenge on the amount of royalties that band members receive from online sales has also gone in the way of Pink Floyd. It is the first royalties dispute between artist and record company ever to be held in private, as per EMI’s wishes.

So, a triumph for art over corporatism… or all a bit unnecessarily precious? Would you do the same for your music if you felt it were open to exploitation and if, through a lifetime of commercial accomplishment (which had created successful careers and all its trappings for many others, don’t forget), you felt you had very much earned the right to protect your work from being dissected and packaged in more profitable bite-size pieces to suit interests other than your own?

Are you disappointed that you may soon be unable to individually purchase Pink Floyd tracks online, or would you always choose an album in its entirety because of its characteristic “seamless” nature? Should it matter if the creators of the music would ideally prefer you to listen to their work as one continuous piece, or should the consumer always have the right to choose?

It’s cheaper to download an album than each of its tracks individually, after all.

Besides, isn’t love for the mellifluous the reason why such effort went into making Echoes: The Best of Pink Floyd what it is (and why familiarity with the albums from which the songs were taken meant that, for many, Echoes didn’t really work)? That wasn’t merely a carve-up job with the songs idly presented in any old order.

Go on, as NME’s Luke Lewis set me off with his blog post yesterday, which songs – from any classic album, not just Pink Floyd’s – could you live without if you chose to purchase digitally rather than in the formats that many of us still cherish.

I’ll go first: Blood on the Tracks’ frenetic ‘Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts’ by Bob Dylan. There, I said it. (Forgive me, Bob.) More often than not, it gives me an instant headache. As does Don Henley’s ‘Man With a Mission’ (from Building the Perfect Beast). But I can skip these songs when my head is feeling particularly delicate and they remain part of two of my favourite albums regardless. Granted, when purchased, there was no option to pick and choose each song, nor to preview them freely at leisure. However, I still feel that today’s wider choice is mostly irrelevant to me when it comes to downloading music, and surely this should be all the more true when it comes to concept albums.

In fact, of Pink Floyd’s more obvious concept albums, you’d be hard pressed to find a track that does not segue at either its beginning or end.

Can you imagine ‘Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’ not turning into ‘With a Little Help from My Friends’? Or ‘Overture’ from The Who’s Tommy not concluding with the joyous announcement that ‘It’s a Boy’?

I’d enjoy sharing your examples of the perfect song segue, if you care to.

So, lots of questions to end the week with and perhaps to aggravate you well into the weekend, but I have (almost) managed to refrain from asking whether we should condone public flogging as the only punishment befitting the heinous crime of savagely butchering Dark Side of the Moon.

Now, there’s a thought… Dare I suggest that maybe EMI got off lightly?

According to Friday’s Times, as part of an attempt to cut costs, the BBC plans to shut down two of its radio stations by the end of 2011. One of these is BBC Radio 6, better known as 6 Music.

Naturally, online campaigns protesting against the proposals have sprung up, and one name that has been mentioned repeatedly is that of much-loved and greatly-missed DJ, John Peel, who died suddenly following a heart attack in 2004.

As Phill Jupitus so simply yet perfectly put it, killing off 6 Music would be “an affront to the memory of John Peel.” David Bowie added that “6 Music keeps the spirit of broadcasters like John Peel alive, and for new artists to lose this station would be a great shame.”

Best known for his legendary Peel Sessions, which began in September 1967 and ran for 37 years, John Peel undoubtedly helped launch many a career, often by championing music that others would not play. In a 2002 BBC poll to discover the 100 Greatest Britons, he was even voted 43rd, some recognition for his services at BBC Radio 1 and with pirate radio station, Radio London, before that.

For anyone passionate about music, his Top Gear show on Radio 1 every Tuesday and Thursday night made for essential listening. Due to Musicians’ Union rules, he had to include a sizeable portion of non-recorded music in each programme, and, mercifully, live recordings were preferred to the usual chatter.

There exists a vast archive of Peel Sessions, containing 4,000 in all by more than 2,000 artists; including six by Pink Floyd and many from associated acts such as Roxy Music, Roy Harper and Robert Wyatt. Browse by artist or by year.

And so we return to 6 Music…

If you’d like to hear any Peel Session again, Marc Riley invites listeners to share which session they’d most like him to play – and why.

Everyone can listen to 6 Music online, so what better way to help a station in distress?

If you could, I’d like lots of Peel appreciation, as well as Sessions, today.

My favourite has to be Syd Barrett’s. Accompanied by David with Jerry Shirley on drums, recorded in February 1970 and aired the following month, this was later released on Peel’s Strange Fruit label and is an absolute must for any Syd fan.

Thoughts on 6 Music and the BBC in general are also quite welcome; I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking up other imaginative ways in which the corporation could cut back, rather than by scrapping their only radio station with a genuinely ‘alternative’ playlist and where, in true Peel tradition, new acts can be heard on a daily basis.

By the way, if you missed the John Peel tribute single – a version of the Buzzcocks number, ‘Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t've)?’, featuring David on rhythm guitar and benefiting Amnesty International – do look/listen out for it.

I thought this rather interesting when I belatedly stumbled across it today: the shortlist for the BRIT Awards’ ‘Best Album of 30 Years’ accolade, representing the finest of 30 years of previous BRIT Award-winning albums.

They are as follows:

- Coldplay, A Rush of Blood to the Head
- Dido, No Angel
- Dire Straits, Brothers in Arms
- Duffy, Rockferry
- Keane, Hopes & Fears
- Oasis, (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?
- Phil Collins, No Jacket Required
- Sade, Diamond Life
- The Verve, Urban Hymns
- Travis, The Man Who

The thing is, the BRITs being the music industry’s own awards, to be eligible you had to have already won a BRIT Award – in the Best British Album category – and you win this in the first place based on sales figures.

So, I had a look and found the other past winners… and realised that the shortlist probably is as good as it can get, although I would definitely substitute the two Manic Street Preachers albums at the expense of pretty much any of them bar Brothers in Arms and Urban Hymns. I would also like to see Annie Lennox (Union Jack-et negotiable) win a BRIT each year, even though she has seven already.

Do you favour any of these over the actual nominees? If, as many believe, Britannia ruled the (air)waves in the ’60s and ’70s, are these award-winning albums conclusive proof that things have gone downhill dramatically ever since?

- Adam and the Ants, Kings Of the Wild Frontier
- Blur, Parklife (Pink Floyd’s The Division Bell had been nominated)
- Coldplay, Parachutes and X&Y
- The Darkness, Permission to Land
- Fairground Attraction, First Of a Million Kisses
- Fine Young Cannibals, The Raw and the Cooked
- Annie Lennox, Diva
- Manic Street Preachers, Everything Must Go and This is My Truth, Tell Me Yours
- George Michael, Listen Without Prejudice
- Seal, Seal
- Stereo MCs, Connected
- Sting, Nothing Like the Sun

If, like me, you initially find the idea of the ten albums in contention representing the pinnacle of 30 years of British music as depressing as a bowl of cold porridge on a wet winter’s morn (and the use of ‘Best’ as contentious as, well, the last equivalent survey we discussed), you might find this stirs you from your malaise.

Ten ‘better’ albums, even if they weren’t as commercially-successful – from 1980 onwards, please. From UK artists only, don’t forget. (The Division Bell… Hello?)

Should you care to vote, voting closes at 9pm (UK) tomorrow – Thursday 28 January. The winning album will be the one with the most votes when voting ends.

You have to register to vote and the registration form asks for everything other than your shoe size, which may prove off-putting to some. (Slight exaggeration there, but why should one’s date of birth, not to mention telephone number, be required? Presumably the only advantage to registering is being able to cast a vote and leave a comment, not buy cigarettes, and nobody should expect a ring-back.)

The 2010 BRIT Awards will take place on 16 February. Will you be watching?

Top of the charts in the UK on this day was ‘Sugar Sugar’ by The Archies.

Not one of David’s favourites, this, but equally annoying and slightly less grammatically irritating than the US sing-along-a-No.1 of this day 40 years ago, ‘Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye’ (by Steam). Remember that one?

I can’t bring myself to say a bad word about the wonderful Roy Orbison, so I’ll just quietly point out that ‘Penny Arcade’ was No.1 in Australia at the time and leave it to you to decide whether or not that nicely rounds off a hat trick of truly terrible chart-topping songs which paint 1969 a hideous, nauseating shade of ‘Fun’.

There were some classic stand-out tunes, though: ‘Albatross’ by (Peter Green’s) Fleetwood Mac, which obviously is one of David’s favourites, and ‘Suite: Judy Blue Eyes’ by Crosby, Stills and Nash, to name just two of them.

As we’ve been talking about him this week, ‘Give Peace a Chance’ by (John Lennon’s) Plastic Ono Band is another.

Great albums, too. All the best acts did well, I thought, and their record covers were often equally impressive: The Beatles’ Abbey Road (and Yellow Submarine); Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere, Neil Young’s first album with Crazy Horse; Frank Zappa’s Hot Rats; Leonard Cohen’s Songs From a Room…

Do note Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band’s Trout Mask Replica sleeve at this point, if you will. Words fail me each time I see it.

There were two records from Pink Floyd, of course: More and Ummagumma. I’d like to know which remain your favourite moments from those two, please.

So, your favourite songs from 1969. Hopefully this list of 100 will help start you off, and this just might jog a few memories.

Here are five of my favourite tracks:

- King Crimson, ‘21st Century Schizoid Man’
- Elvis Presley, ‘Suspicious Minds’
- Rolling Stones, ‘Gimme Shelter’
- Stevie Wonder, ‘For Once In My Life’
- Neil Young, ‘Down By the River’

A special mention for Tommy‘s ‘Underture’, which is one of my most favourite instrumentals, but we can talk about that and those another day.

Until then, have a good weekend, everyone.

We’ve looked at 1966 and 1975, now it’s time for something from the Eighties.

The decade’s best year for music, I feel (and you are free to tell me that you disagree just as long as you can back it up with better examples), is 1983.

From Pink Floyd, the vastly under-rated The Final Cut; ZZ Top produced their most successful, Eliminator; Metallica released their first (Kill ‘Em All), The Police their last (Synchronicity) and U2 their most delightfully political, War.

It was, of course, the year of Thriller, even if it was released in late-1982.

It’s also remembered as the year that Karen Carpenter and Beach Boy, Dennis Wilson, died. Both in tragic circumstances, Karen was just 32 and Dennis, 39.

Which are your favourite songs from 1983? Here are five of mine, starting with another respectful tip of the hat to that great evergreen, Ray Davies:

- Eurythmics, ‘Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)’
- The Fixx, ‘One Thing Leads to Another’
- Michael Jackson, ‘Billie Jean’
- Elton John, ‘I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues’
- Bonnie Tyler, ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’

Thinking of it, it’s probably quite possible to compile an A to Z of chart artists from 1983 (-ish) without great effort. If you’re feeling up to it, in need of a pointless distraction from whatever you should be doing right now, see how far you can get with those unforgettable names, such as Kajagoogoo and Prefab Sprout.

You have to admit, the Eighties were and will forever remain… strangely amusing.

I’ll start you off with Adams, Bryan (‘Cuts Like a Knife’)…

A completely random, yet hopefully moderately useful post today; I’m sure it’s one that everyone can make a contribution to one way or another, should they feel so inclined, particularity should they have a propensity to compile subject-specific music playlists, which is so very easy to do nowadays.

Which songs make driving more enjoyable, tolerable or relaxing?

Five that I’d confidently wager are guaranteed a swift mention, so I’ll get them in early so that your lists are more imaginative than mine, are:

- Beatles, ‘Drive My Car’
- Canned Heat, ‘On the Road Again’
- Eagles, ‘Life in the Fast Lane’
- Chris Rea, ‘Road to Hell’
- Steppenwolf, ‘Born to Be Wild’

Whether you favour the Beach Boys’ ‘Little Deuce Coupe’, Wilson Pickett’s ‘Mustang Sally’ or Prince’s ‘Little Red Corvette’, do tell which songs sound at their very best when you’re behind the wheel (or handlebars, even).

If you can’t think of any, just have a look at the many ‘drive-time’ compilations that record labels, possibly with a little help from radio DJs, have put together.

How about Pink Floyd’s La Carrera Panamericana (were it legally available in a format other than VHS, of course)? Have you seen it and do you have a favourite instrumental from those recorded specifically for the film?

Lastly, as an excuse to let off some steam, which are your pet hates when you’re on the road? The apparent inability of other road users to indicate, particularly at roundabouts, probably grates on my nerves more than anything else.

If you could only pick one right now...

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Although released in the first week of August, Pink Floyd’s debut album, ‘The Piper at the Gates of Dawn’, entered the UK album charts in this week of 1967. It would spend seven just outside the Top Five.

So, why not turn off whatever you’re listening to and give it a spin? Take some time to remember with a smile the beautiful talents of the late Syd Barrett and Richard Wright (as well as producer Norman ‘Hurricane’ Smith, who passed away last year) and share whatever you feel like sharing about this fine piece of work; be it your favourite track, most whimsical lyric, memories of acquiring the original LP, or thoughts on the 30th and 40th anniversary CDs (both of which were re-mastered by James Guthrie, the latter includes two rare takes of ‘Interstellar Overdrive’, rescued from EMI’s archives, plus a previously unavailable version of ‘Matilda Mother’ – click here if you need to learn more).

I’d also care to know how you like the first three Pink Floyd singles, all released in 1967 (‘Arnold Layne’, ‘See Emily Play’, ‘Apples and Oranges’) and their respective B-sides (‘Candy and a Currant Bun’, ‘The Scarecrow’, ‘Paintbox’).

Add to that a fourth single, 1968′s ‘It Would Be So Nice’, only officially available as part of the 1992 ‘Shine On’ box set and the less well-known budget releases, put out in selected parts of the world in 1970 and 1974 to capitalise on the band’s growing popularity, entitled ‘The Best of The Pink Floyd’ and ‘Masters of Rock’.

The B-side to ‘It Would Be So Nice’ was ‘Julia Dream’, David’s first recorded Pink Floyd vocal.

Interestingly, if not somewhat worryingly, the UK’s most popular albums of 1967 were (in order of sales, no surprise about the biggest-seller):

- The Beatles, Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
- ‘Sound of Music’ soundtrack
- ‘The Best of The Beach Boys’
- ‘The Monkees’
- ‘Doctor Zhivago’ soundtrack
- ‘More of The Monkees’
- ‘Fiddler On the Roof’ (Original London Cast)
- Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, ‘Going Places’
- Seekers, ‘Come the Day’
- Tom Jones, ‘Green, Green Grass of Home’

How many of those will you still admit to having in your collection, then?

The musical highlight of Live8, no doubt, was Pink Floyd reforming momentarily to perform for the first time in 24 years.

In another worrying example of time just flying by, the ten concerts held simultaneously to persuade political leaders to make poverty history took place on this date four years ago.

The leaders of the eight richest nations – Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia, the UK and USA – followed the festivities by pledging, at Gleneagles, to double aid to poor nations by 2010, half of which would go to Africa.

Figures show that, in fact, the G8 have only delivered one third of the additional assistance promised, despite being two thirds of the way towards their deadline.

By the end of this year they will have only delivered about half of what they promised, with Italy and France responsible for 80% of the shortfall.

This is because France cut aid to Africa last year and Italy has delivered only 3% of the aid increase it promised.

But it’s not all doom and gloom. There are some 34 million more children in African schools, an estimated three million people on life-saving AIDS treatment, and death rates from malaria have more than halved in Ethiopia, Rwanda and Zambia.

The next G8 Summit will be held in L’Aquila, Italy, from 8 July.

Despite agreeing with many of the cynical sentiments expressed in articles by Michel Chossudovsky and Ann Talbot, who insist that the events were more a profit-making exercise for its corporate sponsors than a means of averting yet another avoidable humanitarian disaster, I like to believe that Live8 truly did increase awareness and turned apathy into activism in some quarters.

Yes, the 10 concerts cost £25 million to stage (the cost in terms of carbon emissions is something else, of course), performers at the Philadelphia gig received obscenely inappropriate gifts and the CD sales of the performers boomed (David, I think it only fair to point out, was the first to promise that any such profits would be donated to charity and encouraged others to follow his example).

What do you think of Live8 now: Success or failure? PR stunt or genuine political mass movement? Did you wear a white wristband, rumoured to have been made in a Chinese sweatshop? Did you wonder where all the black performers were performing that day? And what of the broken promises of financial assistance?

Your thoughts on any of this, and the rest, please.

As an aside, if you have yet to read David’s recollections of the 1969 moon landings – entitled “My moon-landing jam session”, in today’s Guardian – you can find them here. That’s certainly a topic for later this month, though.

Some band called Pink Floyd, with an album entitled ‘The Dark Side of the Moon’, or something, made it 1,056 weeks on the US album charts this week – back in 1997.

Released in the States on 17 March 1973, it would go on to be the first recording to spend 1,500 weeks on the Billboard charts (a milestone reached in May 2006), occupying 164 different positions in the Top 200.

Incredibly, it remained in the Top 200 for a record 736 consecutive weeks (741 non-consecutive, as it dropped off briefly in July 1988) before falling out in October 1988 (and only then because of changes to chart methodology), which is by far the longest chart run of any album ever.

Billboard’s Top Pop Catalog – where older albums are now listed – credits the album with a cumulative total of 1,660 weeks notched up. That’s nearly 32 years.

So, all in all, it did – and continues to do – rather well.

I won’t bother to ask what you like best about the 43-minute-long progressive epic, although you’re very welcome to share; what I’d love to know is how many copies you’ve got in your collection. (Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?)

In addition, I’m curious to discover your thoughts on album sales and chart positions today. Do you believe that anyone can possibly over-take the tremendous run that ‘Dark Side’ has enjoyed now that album sales are in decline and digital sales are up? And what of the part that variable pricing has played in encouraging full-album downloads as opposed to only paying for single tracks?