Pink Floyd - Final Cut

Meh.

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it was Roger Waters’ de facto first solo album.

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FTFY

Marco - I respect your posts. I do recommend you put on Final Cut and let it rip and tell me it isn’t a phenomenal album. I piss my wife off quarterly with it.

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At that point, he had become such an overbearing, difficult person to work with, the band just let him do what he wanted and had little creative input.

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Maybe so, but if so, he was 100% right. To me, It’s the perfect “sequel” to the Wall. I can’t name another album that is a sequel to another...

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Just putting on Two suns in the sunset now

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The sad part about the Final Cut is this potential - Waters still had a shite ton of relevant things to say. Two Suns in the Sunset is a powerful closing track. I tend to listen to this as a complete album, and it works very well in this respect.

Lyrically the album is pretty strong throughout, but Gilmour could have strengthened the music of just about every single one. Waters just wanted to go his own way at that point. Collaboration (Waters is extremely introverted) was just too much trouble, particularly with folks he couldn't control/pull all the oxygen out of the room. Kamen was no pushover, musically, but he wasn't going to impose any of his vision on Roger's works. Guthrie was still in his 20s and awestruck by Roger - and, to be fair, Guthrie should get a lot of credit for the Wall's (and Final Cut's, for that matter) sound from a technical standpoint. One of the pioneers (good and bad) for that clean, 80s "overproduced" sound for a lot of artists.

AND this thread has me playing the Final Cut this morning.



Good times...

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frick all that we've got to get on with these
Gotta compete with the wily Japanese
There's too many home fires burning
And not enough trees
So frick all that
We've go to get on with these

Can't stop!
Lose job!
Mind gone!
Silicon!
What bomb?
Get away!
Pay day!
Make hay!
Break down!
Need fix.
Big six.
Clickity click.
Hold on!
Oh no,
Bring bingo!

Make 'em laugh
Make 'em cry
Make 'em dance in the aisles
Make 'em pay
Make 'em stay
Make 'em feel okay

Not now John
We've got to get on with the film show
Hollywood waits at the end of the rainbow
Who cares what it's about
As long as the kids go?

Not now John we've
Got to get on with the show
Hang on John I've got to get on with this
I don't know what it is
But it fits on here like
Come at the end of the shift
We'll go and get pissed

Not now John
I've got to get on with this
Hold on John
I think there's something good on
I used to read books but
It could be the news
Or some other amusement
It could be reusable shows

frick all that we've got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily Japanese
No need to worry about the Vietnamese
Got to bring the Russian Bear to his knees
Well, maybe not the Russian Bear
Maybe the Swedes
We showed Argentina
Now let's go and show these
Make us feel tough
And wouldn't Maggie be pleased?
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah!

S'cusi dove il bar
(What?)
Se para collo pou eine toe bar
s'il vous plait ou est le bar
(Say it in English!)
Oi, where's the fricking bar John?
(Oh, now you're talking!)\"
Oh! Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the day
Down!
Go, Maggie!
Hammer, Hammer, Hammer, Hammer, now!

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Roger's best lyrics, start to finish. Deal with it.

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Roger's best lyrics, start to finish. Deal with it.

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You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking
And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you,
You'll get the chance to put the knife in
You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older
And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south
Hide your head in the sand,
Just another sad old man
All alone and dying of cancer
And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone
And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone
Dragged down by the stone (stone, stone, stone, stone, stone)
I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise
If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?
Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everything's done under the sun
And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer
Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told what to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was fitted with collar and chain
Who was given a pat on the back
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a stranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was found dead on the phone
Who was dragged down by the stone

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Gilmour maybe didn't contribute anything of substance to the lyrics.

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Correct. But he did collaborate with the phenomenal music.

IMHO, Dogs is the best song ever recorded.

Obviously Waters is a better lyricists and Gilmour is a getter musician.

The problem with that, is 9/10 a song sounds better with elite music and average-above average lyrics than the other way around. Just ask Bob Dylan.

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top 2 albums ever.

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