The Magnificent Seven: Dark Side of the Moon
This is the third in a series of articles that looks at seven albums the authors appreciate. In terms of criteria: they must be albums listened to only in their entirety…content and form together like houses in motion. They also must have enormous personal relevance: they are corner stones.
They may not be cool, but they are us.
#5
Dark Side of the Moon, Pink Floyd
it's all dark.
I was 13 or 14 years old, and my mother and I had gone to Westfield, a neighboring town, to check out this "Trader Joe's" thing that had recently opened. Despite the joyous revelation of Trader Joe's alone--love that shit, don't give a fuck what you say-- something more significant (arguably) occurred. On our way out of the store, with our peanut butter filled pretzels and three-dollar bottles of wine (still holds up!), I found sitting atop of a sand-ashtray, no shit, a copy of Dark Side on disc. It was just perched atop the smoking tower of carcinogens along side a still lit butt.
I hadn't a clue what it was, but the cover, DAT PRISM, was so engaging that I snatched it up and brought it along to the car. After the obligatory, "where did you randomly find an iconic piece of rock-oeuvre," she settled into the rightfully put: "Oh. You should bring that home." Always on-the-money, that Momdukes.
I took it home and popped it into the stereo immediately. OH, MY LORD. I hadn't experienced anything like it musically--still haven’t, though this comes close. But nothing really compares to the experience of TAKING IT ALL IN: spoken word, timepiece amalgamations, non-lexical choruses, meditation, ravenous cacophonies, and the overall stark, utter beauty.
I was obsessed with this album, but only for a very short period of time. I don't know what happened really--possibly the over-spinning of "Money" on popular "Classic Rock" stations shaved off the edge the song delivers in-between sensual powerhouses of the album. In fact, this album, I've come to believe, has its full artillery ablaze as a complete, uninterrupted whole, and really shouldn’t be experienced in any form other than its total form. Despite "Money," I have never experienced any other track in separation. I burned it out probably. Sometimes you get all hot-and-heavy on something, maybe to a maximum intake level or to some level of misunderstanding that eludes you, and you drop it cold for a while. This certainly happened here. My interpretations of this beast are fundamentally different now; no single idea is the same.
Last summer, however, I rediscovered this album when I watched The Flaming Lips perform their interpretation (stellar, splendid) on YouTube. I began intensely listening to this album almost to the frequency of a daily average. It has grabbed me again, tightening its grip on my personal conceptions of physical synchronicity, the passage of time, serendipity, social acceptance, dying, living, and all other profundities that permeate your goddamn soul when you experience the 40+ minutes within the prism.
Despite what anyone says, you do not need drugs to experience the zenith of this record. It's plenty moving, grandiose, expansive, ethereal, and "heavy." It's a masterpiece; it's perfect.
"I'll see you on the dark side of the moon."
"There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact, it's all dark."
I'll see you always and/or I'll see you never.
What is dark is lost to me, and if it indeed is all dark, how/when will I know?
Are we on the dark side of the moon already, looking outward into the glowing light?
Complete clarity?
Never. It's too fucking beautiful to be complete.
Key Tracks: ALL OF THEM. THIS ALBUM WORKS AS A LONG-PLAYING WARP INTO ALL YOUR HOPES, DREAMS, FAILURES, SUCCESSES, AND FEARS. DRIFT AWAY INTO THE NIGHTSCAPE AND WARM YOUR BONES BESIDE THE FIRE.
Gun to my head: "Time," "Us and Them," shit, man, I'm gonna list them all.
Pat Marino appreciates pigs. On the wing, pig fuck.