It’s a strong, frightening statement that shows why the Floyd never were – yes, and are still not – redundant, in spite of their wealth and success, because they still question themselves and the world around them. This album will either be praised or damned. But shows that those members of the new wave who attacked the band because of their vast concerts and use of elaborate technology, had really missed the point. This is a long, uneven work that seems to lose direction on the confusing third and fourth sides, and it veers uneasily between crazy indulgence and nihilistic brilliance. The Floyd have dealt with such themes before, from The Dark Side of the Moon to Animals, but never with such bitter passion.
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