David Gilmour and the mystique of live music
Live albums generally elicit eye-rolling and upturned noses from music snobs. They’ll grant a few exceptions sure — The Who’s Live at Leeds Cheap Trick’s At Budokan Daft Punk’s Alive 2007 — but there’s an unspoken consensus that Camper Van Beethoven got it right when they called their live release Greatest Hits Played Faster . There’s something in the live experience that can’t be captured on a CD (or even DVD for that matter) and that quality leaves most live albums oddly hollow.
This past September Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour released Live in Gdansk a recording of his 2006 concert in the Polish port to celebrate the 26th anniversary of Poland’s revolution. Why the 26th? Who knows. As a live recording the album is fine. The sound is clear and songs like “Comfortably Numb” never get old even if Gilmour’s solos on his newer material tend to stretch out indefinitely. It won’t replace The Wall but it’s nice to hear an aging rocker who still remembers at least some of what made him interesting in the first place.
Compare this with the experience of being there though. I arrived in Gdansk on August 26 2006 pretty much by chance — I’d been heading south through Poland when a chance conversation convinced me the port city would be worth turning around for. As I walked from the train station into the city’s core I came across a lineup that seemed to stretch from the city’s edge right into its heart — it looked like the entire population was standing in single file. I asked what was up when I got to my hostel and they told me that Gilmour was playing a concert a rare event for a remote city with less than half a million people.
That evening the sound of Gilmour’s guitar rang through the streets. A packed house of 50000 fans — more than a tenth of the city’s population — were in the Gdansk Shipyard listening to the concert so the downtown itself was eerily empty. I ended up following the sound to see if I could find a view of the stage somewhere. I didn’t but I did find a spot behind the rear entrance where the sound was immaculate. I leaned myself against the iron bars of the gate half-assuming that I’d be shooed away by security but it never happened. Instead I heard the strains of “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” and “Wish You Were Here” as fellow wanderers stopped to listen to a handful of songs before going on their way. After I got tired of standing I went back to my hostel opened the window and listened to the solo from “Comfortably Numb” as I went to sleep. Given that I was raised on my dad’s copy of The Wall it was absolutely magical.
Live in Gdansk could never capture that experience. No live album could. At best they serve to trigger a pleasant memory. If there’s one true benefit of the format though it’s the way they reinforce the mystique of a live performance — that little reminder in the middle of a show that even if someone hears every note that was played and sees every moment on their high-definition plasma TV they’ll still wish they were here.