The real Pink

It was, it can be said the mother of all ironies.The year was 1975 and Roger waters was penning the lyrics for 'Shine on you crazy diamond' when a bald ,bulky figure walked into their studios.He bore a vague resemblance to someone they once knew.An obstinate silence followed.And as they slowly came to grips with the moment they all shuddered .Waters(as he later confessed) was in f__kin tears.Nick Mason likewise.The barely recognizable figure then picked up a guitar.Someone had to break the stalemate.Rick Wright was the man.He walked up to the "stranger" and said 'Sorry Syd the guitar's already done'

Thirty years have drifted past.And since that fateful day the same old question seems to be doing the rounds in music circles.They all ask 'Where the bloody hell is Syd?'

Eera Vizhi Kaaviyangal

"Let music be the food of love.Play on.Give me excess of it"

I still get goose pimples when i listen to that prelude.If ever one cud make a guitar cry or maybe a case of the guitar making u cry.And then that deep penetrating voice flows like a vibrant stream...It goes through a million peaks and troughs before it unwinds.Thats when u start to reaalize 'oh what the hell...i cant have 'just' two minutes of this'.Probably its the Pink Floyd equivalent of telling u that "The time is gone...the song is over...thought id something more to say".Call it MUSICALABSTRACTION....MELANCHOLY...MUSIC THAT TRANSCENDS...whatever... im not exaggerating one bit.