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I feel extremely gaslighted over the love for David Gilmour because the guy just comes across as a massive asshole to me.
I will never forget him criticising Roger Waters for making a new album out of The Wall outtakes only to eventually do the exact same thing himself. He’s admitted to having made very little contributions to Pink Floyd’s music during the Animals - The Final Cut period purely out of laziness and has the nerve to dismiss Roger’s own contributions when he was the only one pulling Pink Floyd along.
Honestly seems like he’s the one provoking Roger Waters these days.
Waters is an asshole too, but he actually believes in and tries to defend human flourishing while Gilmour is a hack reactionary profiting off of the work of incomparably superior artists and opportunistic zionism.
Is that right, about little contributions to Animals?
That is very definitely one of my all-time favorite records. And not in the least because of the soaring, impassioned, melodic leads on Dogs.
(Folks, if you don't know that tune it ranks as one of the great anti-capitalist takedowns, of how alienating and compromising, exploitative and demoralizing a system it truly is in our every day lives.
Dogs:
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You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need. You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street, You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed. And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight, You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking. And after a while, you can work on points for style. Like the club tie, and the firm handshake, A certain look in the eye and an easy smile. You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to, So that when they turn their backs on you, You'll get the chance to put the knife in.
You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder. You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older. And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south, Hide your head in the sand, Just another sad old man, All alone and dying of cancer.
And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown. And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone. And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around.
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone, Dragged down by the stone.
I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused. Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used. Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise. If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?
Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend. And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner And everything's done under the sun, And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.
Who was born in a house full of pain Who was trained not to spit in the fan Who was told what to do by the man Who was broken by trained personnel Who was fitted with collar and chain Who was given a pat on the back Who was breaking away from the pack Who was only a stranger at home Who was ground down in the end Who was found dead on the phone Who was dragged down by the stone.
spoiler