Following a negative review of
the Floyd show in Chicago 1994, we find an actively
concerned Mason confronting Chicago’s premier music critic and DJ, Jim
DeRogatis. To follow is an exerpt of DeRogatis’ original review along
with his series of correspondence with Mason... (This article
originally appeared in Brain Damage issue 36)
LOTS OF FLASH, BUT FLOYD’S NOT ALL HERE
Exerpted from the Chicago Sun-Times - July 14, 1994 by Jim DeRogatis
The show opened strong despite
the soggy weather with a spirited rendition of Astronomy Domine... It
was the only time that the three veterans were onstage without an army
of backing musicians. Together with bassist Guy Pratt, they tore
through the frantic psychedelic rocker as vintage oil slides were
projected overhead.
Except for the fact that they all
had beer bellies, unnatural tans and designer T-Shirts tucked into
well-pressed trousers, the Floyds could have been 25 year-old art
students again instead of 52 year-old millionaires.
Unfortunately, that spirit
disappeared for the rest of the night as any possibility of spontaneity
or true musical interaction was sacrificed to pristine high-fidelity
sound and computer-controlled special effects.
Mason’s roto-tom solo on Time was
out of it, Dick Parry’s sax playing was wretched on Great Gig in the
Sky and Us & Them, and Money was dragged down by a funked-up groove
and bogus extended jam...
Dear Jim,
I’m sorry that this
letter comes so long after your piece in the Sun-Times last July but I
would like to respond and let you know how truly sorry I am that you
did not care for our merry tunes & twinkling lights, and take issue
with a couple of points that you made.
I have no excuses for my rototom
solo; and only Dick “Ninja” Parry can answer for his solos, though he
probably won’t, since he’s too busy with his collection of guns and
knives and I didn’t want to bother him since as you may know he is of a
disposition that makes Rambo seem like Mister Rogers...
My interest is why you should
confuse your disapproval of our show with all that arrant nonsense
about fake tans, our figures and our dress sense? We don’t have room in
the road boxes for sun beds, and anyway no one in the audience could
possibly distinguish our tan levels. I can only imagine that Banana
Republic are going to be pretty excited that in Chicago they are
considered designer T-Shirts. Thanks, however, for the well-pressed
trousers mention, my mum still worries about that sort of thing.
I am still unclear as to why
anyone over one hundred and fifty pounds weight should not be allowed
to perform, but since you seem to have a mass of rules regarding skin
tone and dress codes I expect there are plenty more covering size,
shape and lifestyle.
I do accept the argument about
show versus music, but have to say that I think our current show is the
right balance between the two. If the people who pay for the tickets
start to complain, rest assured I’ll get right back to you for advice.
As I see it, we do the show with
Janet Jackson dressed grunge, hold the mirror ball, ask Champion the
Wonder Horse to do the mix, find someone less able than Marc Brickman
to run the lights (they are switched manually each night, not run by
computer as you suggest) and wait for critical acclaim.
I’m not holding my breath...!
Your bloodied, but unbowed,
one hundred and seventy pound (ish) pop-star chum,
Nick Mason
Dear Nick,
Thanks for the
thoughtful reply. I was flattered to receive it (it beats the time
Billy Joel called me a “scumbag”) because I am genuinely a fan of Pink
Floyd and of you in particular. The only reason I knew that Time was
out of time is that I used to play along as an aspiring teenaged
drummer. I wasted way too many hours with that dizzying segment in Live
in Pompeii illustrating your Saucerful drum loop; I own and enjoy your
solo albums (especially the one with Carla Bley), and I think your
production for Robert Wyatt and the Damned was brilliant.
I am writing you back to clear up
a misunderstanding. I LOVE fat rock ‘n’ rollers. The beer bellies and
fake tan lines was a low blow, and I am redfaced at having stooped to
the sort of size discrimination that I have abhored elsewhere in this
vacuous business.
The musical complaints are
another story, and I would love to interview you about them. I’ll turn
on the tape recorder and run it as a straight Q & A, no snotty
editorial comments, I swear! I’m from the punk (grunge?) school of
criticism. Just because I have this job, that doesn’t mean my opinions
are any better than yours or those of the cabbie on Michigan Avenue. I
promise to give you your say if you give me a bit of your time. I’ll
add here that I am writing a book called Turn On Your Mind: A Critical
History of Psychedelic Rock From Acid Tests to Raves, and of course,
the Floyd figure prominently. I’ve only spoken to Dave directly, but
I’d love to get your perspective.
I’m flattered at the suggestion,
but I really couldn’t give the Floyd advice, because it would be a
potential conflict of interest. I will say, however, that you are a
talented and witty writer and really ought to consider freelancing for
the NME.
Best,
Your unrepentent 340-pound rock-critic chum,
Jim DeRogatis
Dear PenPal,
Thanks for the
fax and article... which I enjoyed. Very happy to talk on a future
occasion. If you’re ever in the UK at the right time you can reach me
at [deleted]. Good luck with your book. I’m attempting a PF one myself! (Perhaps you remember 1967 - I don’t...)
y.p.s.c. Nick
Many thanks to Jim DeRogatis for
taking time out to talk with me during a recent “Spiritualized/Siouxsie
and the Banshees” concert, for supplying his correspondence with Nick
Mason, and providing BD publicity on-air and in print. - Jeff Jensen
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