Here Comes the Flood

Peter Gabriel has made no secret of the fact that he didn't care for Bob Ezrin's production of "Here Comes the Flood" on PG's first solo LP. I always thought Gabriel was way, way off-base with that assessment. Does it get ever so bombastic and over the top towards the end? Sure. But Dick Wagner's guitar is magnificent and Allan Schwartzberg's drums sound like the apocalypse itself, and I mean that in the best possible way. Hell, I wish the apocalypse would be half that badass...and yet somehow tasteful at the same time. (I mean, is there anything worse than a gauche apocalypse?)

Now, it's a magnificent song, irrespective of its arrangment. So the Robert Fripp-produced recording they did later? Wonderful. The solo version he did on Kate Bush's 1979 Christmas special? Wonderful.

This version?

I have never had any issue with my rock and roll going big—I'm not sure I could love Elvis, Dylan, the Beatles, The Who or Springsteen as much as I do if I did, never mind my various prog guilty pleasures—and if it sometimes misses the mark, well, hey, that's the risk you run by swinging for the fences, right?

But it's hard to listen to that intimate reading by the older Gabriel and deny that it's got a power every bit the equal of the debut version, albeit in a far more restrained but no less effective for that manner. (The fact that his voice sounds better than ever there doesn't hurt, of course.)

Nothing Compares 2 U

I love the cello but am often skeptical of its appearance in a pop context. While it can be beyond sublime it often feels like it's used when an artist is striving for respectability and depth, which can be extra jarring when the artist in question has no need to strive for what was already within their easy reach.

That's not what this feels like. Here's it's simply gorgeous and an integral part of this largely understated and entirely effective cover, with Chris Cornell making the most of his amazing voice by almost totally reserving its power, utilizing his lower register and letting its bluesiness do most of the work.

[h/t Cover Me]

Hotel California

Don Henley wept. (That's a good thing.)

That is exactly how I wanted it to be.

Here Comes the Sun

Here's a lovely little something from the famous Concert for Bangladesh.

Pete Ham, the Badfinger guitarist who's George's only accompanist here, said George only asked him about playing the song the day before...and they never even rehearsed. Yet if there's a single clam anywhere in there, I can't hear it. They even manage to negotiate the tricksy measures in 11/8 and 15/8 seamlessly.

Heroes

Though nothing will drive them away
We can be heroes just for one day
We can be us just for one day

Well. There 'tis.

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

Okay, as long as we're on an acoustic Pink Floyd kick...

Going unplugged is not without its dangers. Sure, you could end up with a "Come As You Are" by Nirvana...but then again, you might end up with something as silly as Yes's unplugged "Roundabout" or as utterly heinous as Eric Clapton's emasculation of one-would-have-thought-impossible-to-emasculate "Layla"—conclusive proof, all on its own, that going unplugged is not necessarily always a good idea.

Now, having said that...

Judging by the remarkable effectiveness of this stripped down version, I would love for Dave Gilmour to do an entire night of Pink Floyd songs, largely or at least mainly solo. If he can pull this one off, I don't doubt he could do another two utterly riveting hours of Floyd and I surely wish he'd try.

Caught in the crossfire of childhood and stardom.

Echoes

Of the dozen or so versions of "Echoes" I've heard, I find precisely none of them more interesting than this brief snippet—and only an epic like "Echoes" could make a six minute rendition seem brief. Check out how chuffed the entire band is to be taking the piss like this—and how quickly it turns serious, if still joyful.

A note  to the cameraman and director, however: if you'd included three times as many shots with Dave Gilmour and Rick Wright in the frame at the same time, it'd be three times better. You kept almost getting it right, but for the first half, at least, kept getting it just wrong instead. A pity.

Still pretty great, though.

Both inviting and inciting.