From the Personal Concert Diaries of Chris McKay, May 12, 1994: Pink Floyd at Death Valley Stadium, Clemson, South Carolina

By Chris McKay 

Alright, here’s the thing. Pink Floyd is one of my all-time favorite bands. David Gilmour is one of my all-time favorite guitarists and singers. Rick Wright is one of my all-time favorite keyboard players. Basically, I love Pink Floyd.

But…

And there’s a big “but” here. 

I don’t love Pink Floyd without Roger Waters. I like ‘em, “but” it’s a diminished return even at its best. When I saw them for the first time in 1987 on the first post-Waters tour, I desperately wanted it to be the greatest show ever. It was Pink Floyd live, after all. Except, it really wasn’t. A Momentary Lapse of Reason is really a David Gilmour solo album collaboration with producer Bob Ezrin and the only things that are Floyd-ish are, sadly, pale imitations, especially lyrically.  Now that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it, I do like “Learning to Fly”, but I didn’t love anything on that album. 

 

And the tour? Well, we’ll talk about that later, but I’ll say now that it left a lot to be desired.

 

The 1994 Pink Floyd album The Division Bell was, to me, a much better album ~ mostly because it wasn’t just a Gilmour vanity project with the Pink Floyd logo slapped on it. Richard Wright was all over this album, singing more songs, and Nick Mason was more present, too. Plus, it sounded more organic and less mechanical than A Momentary Lapse which was, in fact, a fitting title.

 

When this tour was announced, Amanda and I were living in Auburn, Alabama. It sucked for me, but she had a good job at the veterinary school and, because of where we were, we learned very well how to game the Ticketmaster system.  Basically, at some point, I realized that Ticketmaster locations had outlets all over the USA. Obvious, right? But see, the phone numbers didn’t go to the same place. So, if a concert were in South Carolina, like this Floyd one, I’d call Ticketmaster in Colorado and either Amanda or I would get on the phone 5 or 10 minutes before tickets went on sale and ask about what was coming up. Right when the tickets did go on sale, we’d ask for the show in Georgia or South Carolina or wherever and they’d pull ‘em right up.  By 1994, we’d perfected our game and ~ with no camping out or anything ~ it netted us four 7th row tickets just to the left of center for 39 bucks a piece for for friggin’ Pink Floyd!! No wait, just “Hey, we’d like these” and POOF, ours. Every time!

 

We were originally going to go to Atlanta or Birmingham to see Floyd this time but my little brother Benji expressed an interest so we thought this would be a super cool show for him to see. Our friend Emily decided to jump in and Amanda and I drove all the way back to Camden, South Carolina from Auburn, Alabama (like 5 or 6 hours depending) to meet up with Benji and Emily and then drive two and a half hours to Clemson’s Death Valley stadium for the show.

 

I remember driving up there on I-85 and some sick f*ck tried to run us off the road. Like, I don’t mean accidentally. I have no idea why and we weren’t going to let anything stop us from seeing Pink Floyd, but he literally tried to kill us. Fortunately, I was able to navigate safely and we got there. For some reason, I think that assh*le might actually have been a cop. 

 

But nope, not missing Floyd. Not happening.

 

I remember coming back into Death Valley Stadium for the first time since 1989 (when Amanda and I saw The Stones there). It’s so crazy that this huge stadium is practically in the woods. 

 

I remember walking down and getting closer and closer and closer to the stage and realizing, “Holy shit! Look where we are!” I mean, there’s no way we could appreciate the whole show and light and sound system from here, but we could actually see the band and get immersed in the performance.

 

Before the show, there was weird ambient music that was like an outtake from The Division Bell. It went on for, like, a half hour before showtime. The coolest thing was that the production really took advantage of the band’s famous surround sound system and you could hear some of that ambient music behind you while at the same time it sounded like a lawnmower was running over you. It was really strange.

 

I borrowed Emily’s little camera and probably should’ve grabbed some more shots, but I was too engaged in the experience. 

 

I figured the show would being with “Shine on You Crazy Diamond,” which is magical in its own right, but when the pulsing of “Astronomy Domine” began, I was shocked in the best way. Wow! That’s David Gilmour, Richard Wright, and Nick Mason playing f*cking “Astronomy Domine” right there. The stage kind of looked like the Hollywood Bowl with a shell design over it with the circular video screen in the middle. With the two together, the whole thing was kind of like a gigantic eye looking back at the crowd.

 

The 60s-style melting lights and dots dancing over the band were hypnotic. I could tell that few in the crowd new “Astronomy Domine,” but those of us who did were ecstatic. 

 

After that, the band dug pretty deep into the post-Roger Waters stuff for most of the first set. “Learning To Fly”, “On the Turning Away”, and “Sorrow” from A Momentary Lapse of Reason were all far better live than on the album, but it was the Division Bell material that fared even better.

 

“What Do You Want from Me” was a challenge to the crowd’s expectations and I had to admit, it sounded beyond incredible from where we were. I was happiest when “Poles Apart” wrapped around us halfway through the first set. That rang the closest to Floyd for me and the middle section was extra trippy with the surround sounds enveloping us.

 

The first set ended with “One of These Days” which, of course, elicited a huge ovation of recognition after the newer cuts. I leaned over and told Benji to look out for the flying pig. 

 

But…it never came!

 

Instead, on either side of the stage, way up high, giant, scary, inflatable boars were suddenly dancing and jerking to the sounds that intended to cut us to pieces. So, yeah, it was a cool difference, but a bit of a letdown after expecting a flying pig just for, y’know, tradition’s sake.

 

The second set was far more of a crowd-pleaser. This part of the show kicked off with “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” and while at first I was at first disappointed that they’d changed the films they were screening, I was pulled in when I realized they were connecting ideas from the band’s history with the present. 

 

“Shine on You Crazy Diamond” sent us all into a wonderful haze and I was thinking how much dreamier it all was with Dick Parry (the original saxophone player from many of Floyd’s classics) on this tour. Having the original back was such an improvement over the super-mullet of Scott Page who, while entertaining, was always in danger of being overtaken by his hair. He ~ and it ~ were distracting. 

 

Not so here.

 

The second set on this night was laid back and smooth.

 

We moved through “Breathe”, “Time”, and on this tour, they’d put the “Breathe” reprise back, really making it feel more complete. Dark Side of the Moon is still my all-time favorite album (and I make no excuses about it), and I was enjoying it so much.

 

“High Hopes”, the centerpiece of the new Floyd album, worked surprisingly well at this point in the set. The song, clearly, alluded to Pink Floyd’s pasts ~ from Syd Barrett to Roger Waters ~ and to the three members who’d continued. It also made clear that there really couldn’t be much future left in ‘em.

 

After all, “The ringing of ‘The Division Bell’” had begun.

 

The video was very effective during this song and, again, the surround sound was stunning.

 

Following “High Hopes” with “The Great Gig in the Sky” only increased the funereal feeling that Pink Floyd’s days were numbered. I feel like that had to be intentional song placement.

 

“Wish You Were Here” also felt pointed. God, “Wish You Were Here” is just such a warm song. It’s like an embrace, and when 50,000 or so voices are singing along on a warm spring night, it really does feel like some timeless human ritual that could bind us all together. 

 

During this song, there were huge gold lasers that mixed in with the usual greens and reds. The gold lasers were, apparently, a big deal. I looked up at them over my head and watched them waving and dancing just feet above me. There was no way not to feel enchanted.

 

“Us And Them” completed the relaxed portion of the show before the ching-ing and chang-ing of “Money” finally got the crowd up on their feet and dancing.

 

The obligatory “Another Brick in the Wall” still didn’t feel right without Waters and, frankly, they shouldn’t have done it. There was just something really zombie-like about it, but the flashing, spinning lights on the front of the stage that punctuated some of the lyrics were dizzying that close up and had everyone shouting, “Hey, Teacher!”

 

The song served its purpose.

 

To end the set, of course, “Comfortably Numb” lumbered out of the speakers like an IV hit of morphine. 

 

So leaden…so…deep…so lasers…

 

Like on “Another Brick in the Wall”, the vocals don’t work as well on “Comfortably Numb” without Waters but damn, as soon as the choruses come in, it’s beyond words. Of course, Gilmour’s soaring solo (considered one of the greatest guitar breaks of all time) was expanded and much more glorious than on the record.

 

I figured there would be a mirror ball for the solo over the stage but I was shocked when all these lights starting spinning around us. It actually made me dizzy and then I heard a rising “WOOOOOAAAAAAH” from the crowd before turning around and realizing that an insanely large mirror ball was rising from the ground in the middle of the floor that was in turn rising up in the center of the audience. I have no idea how to gauge how big it was, but with Gilmour’s notes bending, the lights all over us, and the vibrations shaking our vital organs, it was phenomenally overwhelming. 

 

The last note of “Comfortably Numb” brought what was like a huge exhalation from one mass of humanity. 

 

Having seen the band before, I figured there’d be one song left and we’d be done.

 

As much I was surprised by “Astronomy Domine” at the start of the night, I was equally surprised that the first encore was “Hey You”. It’s such a Roger Waters song that I never would’ve thought Gilmour would do it, but here it was. And it was so beautiful. A song desperate for connection to others being performed in front of tens of thousands of others just holds so much poignance. And, yes, we did feel connected. 

 

I remember the sound that accompanied “…the worms ate into his brain.” It was this strange, sizzling sound all around us, behind us…moving, as if it were crawling through our own brains ~ thanks to that crazy sound system. 

 

“Hey you, don’t tell me there’s no hope at all.

Together we stand. Divided we fall.”

 

Thinking of the echoes from “…we fall” moving from the stage, over us, across the crowd behind us and into the South Carolina night for miles and miles and miles still gives me chills.

 

The final song of the night was the same as it had been in 1987. In fact, the b-side of “On the Turning Away” was a recording of “Run Like Hell” that was recorded during the Atlanta date at The Omni where Amanda and I first saw the band.

 

This particular lineup (though most of the members were the same) felt so much fiercer on “Run Like Hell” this night. 

 

The song started with Gilmour’s delayed chugga-chuggas that rose up and spun around us in a more exaggerated way than in the version from The Wall, but when the pounding disco beat underpinning on the same came in, everyone was up. 

 

The lights were spinning on the front of the stage and occasional bombs were going off. It was a full sonic assault as blinding lasers cut through the smoke.

 

“RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN!”

 

During the breakdown, we heard the sound of an invisible car spin out, attempting to escape fascistic forces. We could hear screaming and voices talking ~ and not from the people in attendance.

 

It was like having one’s ear against the wall of the universe next door. 

 

I realized I’d taken almost no pictures, so I decided to take one more. I would try to capture that last downbeat of the last note played. I knew the screen would appear to explode, so I set about grabbing that shot. You will see that below. If you look closely, you can see Gilmour. I was proud of catching that moment as it was really fast. 

 

It was also blinding. Those explosions from were so close that it felt like the flames went right up our shirts. When the lights went out immediately after, we were all still seeing the negative forms of the fireballs in our retinas.

 

It was pure, over-the-top, ridiculous spectacle and while I would never, ever prefer a Roger Waters-less Pink Floyd, I can damn sure say that, even without a clear show narrative, this was a f*cking great night for the people carrying on the Pink Floyd name. 

 

On the way out, while we were stuck in terrible Clemson traffic trying to get back on the interstate, I kept thinking about how fortunate we were. I’m so glad my brother got to experience it, too. It was his only opportunity to see Gilmour, Wright, and Mason and, of the two I saw, my brother, for sure, got the better of ‘em!

 

Pink Floyd set list for Clemson, South Carolina, May 12, 1994:

 

Set 1:

 

1. Astronomy Domine
2. Learning To Fly
3. What Do You Want from Me?
4. On the Turning Away
5. Take It Back
6. Poles Apart
7. Sorrow
8. Keep Talking
9. One Of These Days

 

Set 2:

 

1. Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts I – V)
2. Breathe (In the Air)
3. Time
4. Breathe (Reprise)
5. High Hopes
6. The Great Gig in the Sky
7. Wish You Were Here
8. Us And Them
9. Money
10. Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2
11. Comfortably Numb

 

Encore:

 

1. Hey You
2. Run Like Hell

 

Chris McKay is a musician, photographer, and writer from Athens, Georgia.  He is the founder of Bored Music Geek Radio.