And that’s very good, because anyone who knows Waters’ commentary activity and has even a fraction of RiGCZ probably wishes he would do nothing but chew on that prosthesis. The problem is that Gilmour provides him with a reason for this that is not only factual, but also artistic. Maybe not as enormous as the musician’s fans and part of the Western press music commentariat would like, because here there is an effect of psychofandom that causes that even if Gilmour played “Pieski mało dwa” on a jagged comb, the aforementioned ones will still drown in delight. Not as enormous, but it is hard not to admit that this is probably the best material the musician has recorded since his second solo album.
Let’s start with the fact that it’s not a rock album. It’s more of a blues or folk album (there’s even some reggae in “Scattered” – seriously!), so it consists mainly of what has always been underneath the music Pink Floyd and only superficially was it disguised as rock. It is also an album for toothache (or implants, or dentures) idiosyncratically Gilmourian. Practically speaking: if Gilmour were deprived of the ability to play slides, he would probably fall into a catatonic stupor and the number of moments when this technique on “Luck and Strange” applies only as proof of this.
Fortunately, even taking into account (in my opinion) unnecessary emphasis on guitar performances, the album defends itself with really good songs. Songs that are actually very reminiscent of what his colleague from Dire Straits (check it out here). Maybe less prairie here, and more of a smoky blues/jazz club and rain-soaked city sidewalks, but the azimuth is the same. In addition, there is no blabbering about great phenomena, whether social or cosmogonic, and texts written by the wife of the interested party, Polly Samson.
The artist’s daughter also makes a guest appearance here, Romany Gilmour (singing in “Between Two Points” and “Yes, I Have Ghosts”) and even… Rick Wrightwhose parts in the title track were written a year before his death, in 2007. All this is being held in the mouth of a producer much younger than Gilmour, Charlie Andrew (he produced Bloc Party, Madness, Alt-J and London Grammar, among others), thanks to whose participation, apart from a few fortunately rare moments, it was possible to limit Gilmour’s pathos and exaltation. Although, let us emphasize, not completely – without them, Gilmour would not be Gilmour. However, to the extent that, unlike when dealing with most of the guitarist’s achievements, one does not have a video report from the Big Bang before one’s eyes.
“Luck and Strange” It’s probably Gilmour’s most intimate recording since Pink Floyd had a talented member, i.e. on the band’s first two albums (of course I’m being spiteful and exaggerating, but only a little). Prog-rock fans will probably be disappointed, because there’s not much of it on the album, despite the personalities. But they shouldn’t worry. They have Porcupine Treea Floydian rip-off. Somehow they will survive. Meanwhile, the rest of the world got a decent album with decent songs, which is neither great art nor any special musical event. Just a nice, lazy album.
David Gilmour “Luck and Strange”, SONY