By Dabrowka Nowak, Third Year English
Never when I review a gig do I centre myself in any way. However, this cover band from the other side of the world provided me with so much introspection, reflection, re-examination of opinion that my review style must change for the moment.
Australian Pink Floyd were founded by a few die-hard fans in 1988 and slowly rose to fame through a dedication to only Pink Floyd’s music from the beginning, with a recruitment poster reading ‘Professional attitude required. We only play Pink Floyd.’ Through hard work and talent, they have now played in 35 countries and even David Gilmour’s 50th birthday.
I tend to approach the whole idea of cover bands with a sense of cynicism. I wonder where the authenticity lies, how much credit a perfect copy of an original can receive considering it lacks the backstory, the initial inspired creation. The choice of perfection over musical creation confuses me personally.
I am baffled by the concept of a Pink Floyd cover band having their own Spotify page of these perfect covers with upwards of 2,500 monthly listeners, their own quasi-Floyd merch and a dedicated fan base. Understandably so however, as Australian Pink Floyd provided entirely faultless covers, selling out venues like Bristol Beacon across a world tour. The musicianship was expertly pristine, the show entertaining and moving.
At the same time, I am part of that fan base as a returning audience member and hence must turn my criticism inwards. Am I not, as I pick holes in the authority the band has for profiting off someone else’s music and the pain it arose from, being moved to tears by these very covers? Throughout their show, I came to the conclusion that the passion for Pink Floyd, shared by everyone, including the artists, was nothing but authentic and beautiful. We are all fans; they just did something creative about it!
The band's performance of Wish You Were Here was beautiful, with the highlight being the opening, emotive ‘Shine on you Crazy Diamond.’ Behind them appeared a photo of Syd Barrett in a poignant ode. The song’s universality could be felt in the room. This year for me, like for countless others, has been characterised by the pain of grieving circumstance beyond my control. The emotion held in that auditorium, with the universal related feeling of loss and love felt so monumental and showcased the genuine power live music can hold, crafting togetherness between people from worlds apart. I hold the band in high esteem for crafting that intensity of experience.
The group seemed at their most energised, naturally, when they played songs off The Wall, such as anthem ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ parts 1-3, which they concluded the first half with. The lead vocalist’s somewhat harrowing interpretation of part 3 was so chilling that shivers couldn’t stop running down my spine. However these were the moments I enjoyed the most, with the energy lending the band more creative freedom and rawness.
The second half was characterised by impeccable musical performance, with highly anticipated ‘The Great Gig in the Sky’ showcasing beautiful, refined female vocals from all three backing singers. Guitar solos from Luc Ledy Lepine and David Domminney Fowler were encapsulating and incredible throughout.
Also featured was possibly the most cheeky and yet nonchalant saxophone solos from Alex Francois. The musical highlight for me was of the not-as-popular ‘Sorrow’, which was a masterclass of psychedelic performance, allowing me to get lost in the journey of the song. Paul Bonney on drums gave his all in encore ‘Comfortably Numb’ in a perfect ending to the night.
As if the music wasn’t entertaining enough, the laser show was a sight for sore eyes, and very Pink Floyd! The band showcased their Australian heritage with a series of whimsical kangaroo motifs and onscreen patterns, finalising the second half with a larger-than-life inflatable. I enjoyed these joyful aspects, giving the gig a lovely personalised touch separate from Pink Floyd.
I became speculative again at the display’s use of AI as a ‘momentary lapse of reason.’ I spent a while considering the levels of irony, if the generated videos of overtly sexualised women’s silhouettes, strange singing robot faces and Orwell-esque flashing symbols were an easy design choice, accidentally playing into everything Pink Floyd’s anti-establishment, anarchist viewpoints oppose. In this case, the death of self-created art becomes a depressing notion to background an otherwise spectacular performance. Or perhaps it is very rock and roll, when the industry has always played into the irony of commercial pop culture, whilst contributing to it directly. Or perhaps I’m reading too much into it. Either way, the entertainment factor was entirely there, and nothing much could detract from the music.
The beauty and professionalism through which Australian Pink Floyd perform is incredibly uniting. The concept of the band itself allows for the accessibility of fantastic, popular music - which holds a place in the hearts of many - to be heard in person. The acoustics of Bristol Beacon aided the way for a beautiful and surrounding musical experience. I never thought a cover band could create such emotional turmoil within me, but, alas, song after song I was proven wrong.
Featured image: Dabrowka NowakWhat's your opinion on cover bands?
