Pink

The Wall: a historical album, the one with the cover shaped with white bricks, surrounded in black with the name of the band and the title of the album written on it in block letters, of those that remain in time and are part of the collective imagination. The story of The Wall, as we know, is partially autobiographical and comes after a long psychoanalytic work, twenty years of therapy, by Waters. The leader of Pink Floyd said that the anger and fear he had had to face at the age of 35 had alchemically transformed him into a concept album, it is the same fear that dwells in the hearts of human beings and that, unfortunately, often burns in a fire capable of shaping racism, sexism, religious fundamentalism, manipulation.

The protagonist of this imaginary story is the character of Pink, an interpreter of rock who sees his existence condemned to isolation due to an impassable wall. A wall erected to protect himself from the traumas of his life, inside it we find mighty autobiographical glimpses: his father's death in war, his difficult adolescence and his divorce from his wife. Pink's death is a real case of self-destruction. He locks himself in a room and erects a wall (the wall) between himself and others. Here his imagination leaves the real world and wanders in his nightmares, heading towards probable madness.

That is, above all, the turbid and restless life of Roger Waters, who is the dictatorial creator of The Wall, the bassist is the author of much of the album starting with the famous Another Brick in the Wall. A challenging and complex “concept-album”, more than you can imagine the great commercial success, linked more than anything else to winning singles like Another Brick in the Wall, with its famous “Teachers, Leave the Kids Alone”, destined to become a student protest slogan. A baroque and imperfect rock opera, sometimes even unpleasant. But fascinating in its many facets and atmospheres, even in its contradictions, such as going from the psychedelic wonders of Comfortably Numb to the tight dance of Run Like Hell, a disco catchphrase. A disco still current, in its contents and, why not, also in its sounds, always a bit sinister and not very reassuring.