It was 1997 and I was living in Romford, Essex. It was a strange time, on the cusp of the internet but not quite there yet. So every Saturday to go shopping I would load up my Walkman with my favourite tape and set off, often with bulging pockets if I wanted to listen to more than one album. Still a child of the 80’s my go to was Erasure, Pet Shop Boys, Simple Minds and Runrig, as it made me nostalgic for home. Oh and a love of Billy Joel instilled into me by my mother. Listen to Songs from the Attic, a great live album.
My journey always took me to a small second hand music shop on the outskirts of the shopping centre called ‘Sounds Familiar’, which specialised in second hand albums and video tapes (which I also had stacked up back home). I would start at A and browse through the cassette covers and when I got to P there it was. A strange white cover with a burning man in a suit shaking hands with another well dressed man. Wish You Were Here by a band called Pink Floyd. Interesting. I turned the cover over to check the playlist and….wow. The A side was Shine On You Crazy Diamond parts 1-5 and Welcome To The Machine. Just two songs? And what does it mean parts 1-5? How does that even work? Isn’t an album supposed to have at least 5 songs on the A side? I looked at the B side and it was even more intriguing. Have A Cigar, Wish You Were Here and Shine On You Crazy Diamond parts 6-9. A 9 part song? I just had to buy this and discover it for myself.
Outside I sat on a bench, removed the current tape from the Walkman, placed in my new album and pressed play. I sat there for the next hour transfixed by what I was hearing. The gradual build of the synthesisers for Part 1 of Shine On Your Crazy Diamond is captivating, creating tension until the introduction of the wonderful guitar of David Gilmour, which sweeps and soars until the first line is song. The album then flows like a wave.
The lyrics are profound, tearing apart the machine of the music industry (Welcome To The Machine, Have A Cigar), to the trappings of fame (Wish You Were Here) and lamenting the loss of a band member to mental illness (Shine On Your Crazy Diamond). The music seamlessly connects each song together with iconic licks and riffs, such as Gilmour’s guitar on Wish You Where Here and Richard Wrights soaring keyboard on Welcome To The Machine. The culmination is the refrain of Shine On You Crazy Diamond Parts 6-9, which is introduced by the manic crescendo of the music before fading to an emotional conclusion with each instrument taking its spotlight before conceding to the next.
I have been a fan ever since.