2”) to blacks, gays, and Jews (“In the Flesh”) to modern life in general (“The Thin Ice”) before realizing that maybe the problem was him all along (“Stop,” “The Trial”)-an arc even more resonant in light of our societal reckoning with the evil men do. Pink starts pointing fingers at everyone from Mom (“Mother”) to the education system (“The Happiest Days of Our Lives,” “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. If anything, it laid bare his inner turmoil (and outer critique) with almost forensic precision: The album traces the long arc of a fictional rock star named Pink Floyd, who evolves from lonely boy to maniacal fascist. At 80 minutes, The Wall didn’t spare listeners any of Waters’ creative largesse. What emerged from that mental image was one of the last, and one of the greatest, gasps of the concept album-that naively romantic idea that music could somehow reach out of the confines of the recorded medium and tell a story that would resonate with the metaphoric heft of a novel. Later that night, he told the producer Bob Ezrin and a psychiatrist friend of Ezrin’s that he sometimes fantasized about building a wall between himself and the audience-an embodiment of how isolated he already felt, and a device by which he could protect what little of himself he thought he had left. Risky investments had put them under major financial pressure audiences seemed more interested in the party than the show band rapport had gotten so strained that Waters started referring to the rest of the members as “the muffins.”Īnd so, alone in a crowd of about 80,000 people, standing under the 40-foot-long inflatable pig that had become a central prop of the band’s set, Waters spit. This was July 1977: The band was finishing out their lengthy In the Flesh tour to stadium-size crowds, working at scales unfamiliar and uncomfortable to everyone involved. You could say The Wall started taking shape the night Roger Waters leaned over the edge of the stage and spit in a fan’s face.

1980s pink floyd the wall album cover