The Bright Side of the Moon
When my father passed away, he “left more than a snap shot in the family album” and “just a memory.” Being that he was an avid Pink Floyd fan, I inherited from him a love for Nick Masons smooth rhythms, Richard Wrights groovy synth and piano, David Gilmour’s unparalleled Guitar playing, and especially Roger Waters lyrics. I was 15 when he passed and as such I was 15 when I received my first copy of Dark Side of the Moon. From the moment I out the CD in the stereo system that my father had also left behind for me, a set of monstrous polk speakers that still sound better than any Bose sets I have ever heard, I knew that the album was great. Amazing even. I loved the celestial synths that paralleled the astral theme. I cringed as my skin crawled and perked with goose bumps as the vocal solo on “Great Gig in the Sky” was belted from a set of pipes that I used to think belonged to Aretha or Houston. I reveled in the saxophone solos that could have made Bill Clinton