FINLINSON: The Wall

When I was 17 years old I went on a slip with our church youth group to the desolate plains of Wyoming. To re-live a bit of what our Pioneer ancestors experienced, we would walk portions of the Mormon trail across Rocky Ridge, along Rock Creek and on to Martin's Cove - where the Willie and Martin handcart companies were reclaimed from the deadly cold of an early winter back in October of 1856.

We covered over 12 miles of the original trail - and to occur the time on a particularly empty part of the way a supporter and I decided we would sing all the lyrics to every track of the double disc album The Rampart by Pink Floyd. At that place in my lifetime I was probably listening to The Wall an average of once a week - so it was not surprising that I was able to accomplish this feat, even with no background music save the slight howl of the summer Wyoming wind. I let my elder brothers to thank for my bed of Pink Floyd at an early age. By the age of ten I was borrowing and hearing to my brother Gregg's tapes on a frequent basis - Animals, Wish you Were Here, Ummagumma - I even remember listening to Dark Face of the Moon for the 1st time. The cassette tape playing in my walkman while I was in my room - probably toying with GI Joes or Transformers or something. That voice from the song Brain Damage - the soft squeal and slide of the guitar, the groan of the game up vocalists, the lyrics - I even think that moment thinking "Wow - what is this?" I bought my first Pink Floyd albums at the age of 12 from the Musicland at the Cottonwood Mall - this would get a compendium that took several days to complete. Of all Pink Floyd's albums my favorites have shifted from class to year. And patch The Wall hasn't always had the numeral one point for me, it is such a landmark album that it actually stands out unlike anything else Pink Floyd created. The art and strength and range of the album is in great part due to the personal outpouring of Roger Water's soul into the medicine and concept. The original concert performances of the Wall took place 30 years ago - things of legend that only four select cities witnessed. These concerts were then adapted into the 1982 movie which many people witnessed - but the film is something that explores the medicine in a very different way. The Fence is in fact a story of a concert - of a Rock Star going mad while on tour. What best way to get its music and story than in the concert format. And so I was thrilled at the announcement earlier this year that Roger Waters would be binding on tour - this time performing his magnum opus - The Wall. We went to the appearance this weekend. It was more than simply a concert - it was a spectacle, unlike anything else I get ever witnessed. The music alone has been a section of my spirit for about 25 years - there is a liberty to it that courses through my identity, that is woven through the soundtrack of my personal history. To see that music in this way - in the way it is meant to be experienced - was amazing. The lights and projections and pyrotechnics and props and costumes. . . think broadway show, mixed with stadium concert, mixed with opera, mixed with fireworks spectacular, mixed with giant puppet show etc etc etc. Loved it loved it loved it.