THE FINAL CUT

I pause and take a breath at the memory of this album. Regardless of my current mood... Regardless of drudgery of life... Regardless of presence or absence of members of the band... Regardless that it is even Pink Floyd... This album always delivers the same experience.

The gamut of emotions portrayed from childhood shattered dreams to the numbness of inevitability erases those of the listener leaving him/her longing to feel... anything... something. Each song supplies the next emotion. From solitude laced with paranoia to guilt- ridden mental interactions with loved ones, from exploring anger with your Maker to resigning to reality this album is an auditory tesseract directly into the realm of the writer. One soul anguishing over the past; affecting every present thought and emotion while simultaneously experiencing the nihilism of the future.

This masterpiece exists on its own. Social commentary abounds. Pensive contemplation of fantasy and possibilities lead to heart-splitting moments of exhilaration and dismay while the guitar solos cry out. Waterfall legatos of piano and strings softly stroke the hair on your head as you lay on your mother's lap. You wake up too late understanding it all.