Who needs Roger Waters?
Certainly David Gilmour doesn't.
And, in spite of hopes of a Pink Floyd reunion following its performance at Live 8 last year, and in spite of the fact that Waters and Gilmour have apparently patched up their differences, neither do Pink Floyd fans.
Waters and Gilmour, the creative forces behind one of the great bands of all time, produced some of the best-known, and best, music of the 1970s and 1980s. "Dark Side of the Moon" was practically the soundtrack of the '70s.
With "On an Island," his first recording in 12 years, Gilmour has produced an album so silky smooth, so dreamy and softly psychedelic, that you would think any number of the songs on the CD would fit nicely onto "Meddle," "Wish You Were Here" or even the hallowed "Dark Side."
Of course, with help on the album from luminaries like David Crosby, Graham Nash, Pink Floyd keyboard player Richard Wright, keyboard player Phil Manzanera, Jools Holland on piano, Georgie Fame on organ and Robert Wyatt on cornet, Waters' presence would seem superfluous.
"On an Island" is a gorgeous, melodic, contemplative and occasionally challenging album that makes you think not a lot has changed since, oh, 1975. In other words, it's a lot like a Pink Floyd album. But that's a very good thing, even for those who aren't Floyd fanatics.
Of course, it's Gilmour's guitar that makes the album. He plays so high on the fretboard that he squeezes out notes you didn't even know existed, and he does it with the same fluidity and dexterity that became a hallmark of the Pink Floyd sound. He plays licks so sweet you want to eat them.
The album starts out ominously on "Castellorizon," with a deep, foghorn synthesizer that gradually becomes a pulsing throb. But soon enough Gilmour's guitar breaks in to create an edgy yet compelling sound that grabs you and gently holds your attention, making you eagerly anticipate just what he's going to do next.
The lush title cut, which features Gilmour singing with Crosby and Nash, is oddly reminiscent of the sort of harmonizing that sounds oddly like, if you can believe this, The Lettermen, that symbol of squareness from the '60s. So what? With Gilmour's guitar and Wright's keyboards, "On an Island" is one of the most beautiful songs since Pink Floyd's "Breathe." Same with "The Blue," which sounds a great deal like "Echoes," from "Meddle." On those two you can almost hear the beer bongs bubbling in living rooms across the land.
"Red Sky at Night" has Gilmour playing sax with the same intensity as he plays guitar.
Not that "On an Island" is some derivative Pink Floyd museum exhibit. Gilmour mixes it up with "Take a Breath," which has the sort of dramatic rhythms worthy of placement on Pink Floyd's classic, "The Wall," and by the time you get to the bluesy strut of "This Heaven," you know Gilmour isn't trying to lull you into a trance, that he's still capable of creating music that sounds fresh and interesting.
"Smile," a lovely little ballad, could easily have fit on Paul McCartney's "Chaos and Creation in the Back Yard." Gilmour even has a little quaver in his voice, just like Macca.
Unfortunately, the laconic "A Pocketful of Stones" and "Where We Start," which of course, is the final cut, don't seem to resolve so much as they just end. As a result, the album ends with more of a whimper than a bang.
Still, this is a fine piece of work and, even at this early stage, will undoubtedly be named as one of the best albums of 2006.
Gilmour is now a senior statesman of rock and roll, having reached 60 without missing a beat, even if his recordings have been missing in action for years. But he has proven that he is still a relevant and important. Let's hope he doesn't wait until he's 72 to come up with his next album.
