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Chapter 13: AN INTERVIEW WITH ROGER WATERS
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(PART 3 of "A Saucerful of Sucrets" by Knickerless Schaffner)
The following article and interview, first published in HotRods Monthly in November 1979, sums up many of Roger's feelings about this powerful and important work:
Another Chick in the Mall? Not Bloody Likely.
By Benjamin Withdafloyd
It was a pale, wintery morning, just on the outskirts of London when I linked up with Roger Waters, consummate artist, lead singer and bass player for the occassionally defunct rock band Pink Floyd. Outside Big Bug Studios in England, the weather is stormy and rain pounds down on the roof. Inside, new material for Pink Floyd's forthcoming album The Mall is being committed to tape.
Occassionally the mood inside the studio matches that of the exterior. Waters, slumped over the mixing board with a cigarette burning forgotten in his mouth, admonishes a conga player after a particularly rough take that he is not playing "happy" enough.
Many obscenities are exchanged along with several coordinated hand gestures until Bob Ezrin rushes in to iron out the problem with all the savvy of a once-great producer.
After a few more equally rough and "unhappy" takes, Waters joyously announces that he can piece together an acceptable part out of the several takes on tape and tells the drummer to remove his worthless hide from the studio.
Then, deeming it acceptable to take a rare break from pounding out the new material, he sits across from me firing off answers to my questions with the kind of savvy that comes naturally with being a jerk.
That is doubtless the media perception of this seemingly innocuous, soft-spoken, introspective, chain-smoking, often lucid fellow who, along with Syd Barrett, started what would become one of the biggest phenomenons off all time. They also started Pink Floyd.
HotRods Monthly: So what's The Mall all about?
Roger Waters: Oh... y'know, coping with all the anxieties and pressures of being a wealthy rock idol.
HM: Kinda Bon Jovi territory then?
RW: Oh, no ... oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no... More Debbie Gibson really.
HM: How so?
RW: Well in the late 60s, in the early days when Syd [Barrett, original lead vocalist and flake] was our original lead vocalist and flake, we used to get a lot of mall gigs. Thing was, though, it turned me into an animal. The malls are just fucking awful, you see. Just awful.
HM: That's what inspired "Animal Crackers" wasn't it?
RW: Yeah, I remember sitting at an Orange Julius, having a drink before a gig and thinking everybody here is like some type of dog. Y'know? There's a chihuahua, and there's a collie. That's a miniature terrier peeing on my leg.
HM: How did "Wish You Had Beer" fit in?
RW: That was really a sequel to "Dank Side of the Moon".
HM: Is The Mall a continuation of "Animal Crackers" then?
RW: Well, not a continuation really, so much as just picking up exactly where the other one left off.
HM: I see. And you receive writing, perfomance and production credits for everything on The Mall except one line of lyrics creditted to Nick Mason, the drummer.
RW: Oh, yes, I was absolutely in a fucking rut by the end of writing the lyrics so he contributed the last line. Really, that's the extent of his input. That's all he did.
HM: What was the line he contributed?
RW: Oh, I don't remember. I ended up changing it anyway. It was some fucking rubbish about loving your neighbours or something. (laughs)
HM: (laughs)
RW: Don't laugh at that.
HM: Oh, sorry.
RW: (laughs)
HM: I understand Geraldo Scarfe did the sleeve artwork.
RW: Yes... Christ. I had an absolutely awful time with all that, you know. It was a nightmare... a real fiasco.
HM: Why?
RW: Well for starters he wanted a credit for it. He actually wanted his name on the sleeve, and I'm thinking, well, where's *my* name going to go then? Besides, we're giving him all this room on the cover for his artwork and he still wants room for his name. I just think there's something unhealthy with someone that egotistical about his own name.
HM: What did David Gilmour contribute to The Mall?
RW: Oh, some money for lunch and studio time...
HM: I mean, musically.
RW: Oh, bollocks. David's contribution was just guitar stuff really. That's absolutely all he did though. Absolutely nothing else.
HM: What about some of your bass parts?
RW: Oh, that too. Yes.
HM: And vocals?
RW: Yeah. Oh, did I mention that I have complete control over the catering on our next tour?
HM: Eh... well, not really, no....
RW: It's in my contract this time. I'm in control 100%. What I say goes. (laughs) (laughs more)
HM: I understand that there was a great deal of friction between you and Rick Wright?
RW: I NEVER TOUCHED HIM!
HM: I meant animosity... there's been animosity between you two.
RW: Oh yes, I came to the unanimous decision to kick him out of the Floyd.
HM: Why?
RW: Why? Well, I've never been asked that. (laughs) (stops) I guess I don't understand what the big deal is anyway. I kicked him out for artistic differences really. Nothing more.
HM: Like what kind of artistic differences?
RW: Well, again I guess it goes back to what I said earlier about people asking for undue credit. I'm not opposed one bit to giving someone proper credit on the album sleeve, but Rick... (laughs) I just told him one day that his keyboard just didn't merit a credit and he bloody flipped!
HM: Not really an "artistic difference," then, is it?
RW: Exactly. That's what I was trying to tell him. He refused to recognize how right I was, so he was asked to leaf... eh, leave! I told him that we could always credit him as a stage technician or as a janitor or something but apparently that just wasn't good enough for him.
HM: So there is no truth to the rumor that he has a weed problem?
RW: Mmm... no, no truth at all. And, when I say that, I mean it in the sense that there it is completely true. So, make of it what you will.
HM: Won't you need his keyboard skills and backing vocals?
RW: Mmm... let me think. (thinks... laughs... thinks more.) No. Definitely not. We have other guys who do that keyboard thing, you know where they move their fingers all over the keyboard and makes songs, so we don't need him. And since we have the Osmonds singing backup, we don't need his vocals either. It's covered.
HM: How's the live show looking?
RW: Oh it's big. Christ is it huge.
HM: Will it have all the usual Floyd trappings--the flying testicles, the inflatable bacon strips, the scratchy, grainy, ancient-as-hell films projected behind you?
RW: Of course, Benjamin, and then some. Also, we're reconstructing a mall behind us during the show.
HM: A mall? With real shops and merchandise even?
RW: Oh yeah. We're going one step further even. We'll be hiring and training employees for the shops during each show. Then, at the climax, just before "Outside The Mall," the whole building caves in, killing everyone in it.
HM: For real?
RW: Sure. Why not?
HM: Aren't there legal problems with that?
RW: It's clearly written into the employment forms.
HM: What else can we expect to see at The Mall shows?
RW: Oh, drugs and fistfights and naked--
H: No, no... I meant on stage.
RW: Mmm... so did I. But if you mean what else will be part of the show itself... we have an inflatable Fred Flinstone this time around that we bring out during "Wilma's Bone."
HM: Oh. Is that the beautiful piece that starts with "I've got a little stone house in Bedrock... I've got a car that runs on my feet...?"
RW: "I've got a real live bird for a typewriter, although I can't read." Yes, that's the one.
HM: Explain why Fred is such an important theme in The Mall?
RW: I've always seen Fred Flinstone as this metaphor, you know, for the average guy, trapped by his own ennui, searching desperately wherever he can to retreat from the world and the anti-life forces that assault him day and night. Also, it's simply fascinating from the perspective of a trained historian such like myself.
HM: Is that why one can hear the word "Flintstone" echoing ad nauseum on Animal Crackers?
RW: Certainly. That's it exactly. Also, Fred just has an enormous nose. I can relate to him. We are like cartoon brothers.
HM: During "Parking Spaces" you have an animated bit where Fred and Wilma are doing it.
RW: Pardon?
HM: You know, getting it on.
RW: I'm not sure....
HM: Knockin' boots... horizontal bop... hiding the sausage... roll in the hay... bumping nasties....
RW: OH! When he's poking her!
HM: Yes. Critics cite that as an example of the sort of excess your band is guilty of. How do you respond to that sort of criticism?
RW: I usually shrug and try to ignore it.
HM: How do you just ignore that sort of thing?
RW: By making anonymous death threats via the phone, that sort of thing.
HM: Not really ignoring it, then, is it?
RW: In a sense, yes.
HM: No, not at all.
RW: If that's how you want to see it, you're welcome to your opinion.
HM: I suppose that one of the most excessive moments occurs on the fourth side of the album with "In The Flush" where your protagonist has turned into a raving liberal and starts kicking people who are smoking and wearing fur and who are heterosexual out of the mall.
RW: I see nothing wrong with that. How excessive is that? Most malls won't let you smoke inside as it is.
HM: What about "Walk Like Hell" and "Comfortably Dumb" "Jung Lust"? "One of my Turds"? "Don't Leave Me Cow"? I mean, the titles alone seems geared to getting a reaction, Roger.
RW: Well that's standard ignorance i.e. people who aren't as smart as I am.
HM: I see. So, Roger. Even given this sort of excess, what do you see as the future of Floyd? What do you see yourself doing ten years from now?
RW: Well, for our future, I forsee Dave leaving the band. He and I will both produce spectacularly succesful solo albums--much better than anything we ever produced as Pink Floyd--and then I'll announce that I'm reforming Pink Floyd without Dave. Dave will sue me for this and tell us "you'll never fucking make it," but with help from Nick and Rick, I'll make a spectacular comeback while Dave writes rather pompous solo albums about mute kids who call Los Angeles radio stations and about how terrible television is.
HM: That's rather specific.
RW: I like specific.
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Chapter 14: ANOTHER CHICK IN THE MALL PART 2
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Pink Floyd premiered their live performance of The Mall before a stunned audience at the Los Angeles Skating Rink where, much to the surprise of concert-goers, a hockey game was taking place at the same time as the show.
"That was nothing more than bad planning," Nick Mason later stated, indicating that the shows seemed doomed from that point on. It wasn't until the second round of shows that were presented in New York's Nausea Coliseum that The Mall really seemed to come to life.
"We were really playing wonderfully at that point!" Nick gushes. "I was doing great on the drums! Dave's guitars were brilliant and Roger was pretending to play the bass like never before. For once, it seemed like this bastard was going to fly."
In the midst of such good feelings, an old controversy raised its ugly head. The Andy Warhol debacle. Attorneys on behalf of the band filed suit against the suspiciously effeminate avant-garde artist for $5.5 million in damages. The suit was quietly dismissed however when it was revealed, much to the chagrin of the band, that Warhol was in fact dead.
August of 1980 saw the first Mall shows in the UK at Earl's Pub in London and early the following year, the band were to produce simliar shows in Westfallehallenmundeisenundweimerundt, Germany.
For the most part, Roger's live vision was well-received. Most attendees felt that the show tended to be a bit harsh, especially the part where Roger glared unabashedly at the entire crowd from atop the Mall while singing "Yo You!" One starry-eyed young lady at the Los Angeles show commented that "I don't know that I needed to see Fred and Wilma doing... you know... I just felt that was a little unnecessary, that's all. I sort of felt like I was watching my parents do it."
If the show had its detractors, it certainly had those who sung it praises as well. "It was really loud," an unidentified teen boy said. "And I like loud. Their shirts too. Very loud. I mean, my ears bled it was so loud, and the sound quality... oh! To die for!"
But it wasn't until July of 1982 that the world would see the final shop in Roger's mall which would come in the form of the premiere of Pink Floyd The Mall, the Alan Porker film. Shown for the first time at the Empire Theatre in Leicester Square in London, the film would draw celebrities from all corners of the world: Mick Jagger, Jerry Lewis, Sheri Lewis, Lambchop, Prince, Phyllis Diller, David Copperfield, Yoko Ono, Leopold "Buzz" Galtieri, Gary Coleman, that guy who played Capt. Stubbing on the Love Boat, Sigfried and Roy, Twiggy, and many others.
Geraldo Scarfe recalls the making of the film. "It was awful. Christ, it was terrible. Alan would ramble on and on about how this wasn't quite right, and Roger would be talking and spitting at the same time, and Bob Geldof was calling us all fascists and hypocrites! I mean, I can only take so much."
The stress Scarfe felt was augmented by a shocking turn of events. He explains: "I invented the Hamburger Guard, you know, these thugs who help Pink out and whose symbol is two marching pickles. Well, one day I come to the set and I find everyone's gone off and gotten jobs at McDonalds. I mean, for fuck's sake, this is all about not working at places like that, fast-food and malls and all American garbage--that's what that is. I think my worst nightmares were coming true."
The tempers on the set nearly became violent at times, and Alan Porker convinced Roger to show up for the first day of filming promptly at 8 a.m. Of course, true to form, Roger was late--10 weeks late, to be exact. This gave Porker the time he needed to complete filming.
Bob Geldof, who Porker felt was perfect for the role, was at first reluctant to portray Pink, and it had less to do with his Irish roots than some might expect. "I felt it was a buncha boolshit. I really did, and I canna say I liked it thet much. I thought it all just a buncha fascist, pseudo-liberal hoo-ha, exactly the sort o' thing I'd expect from a buncha fat, wealthy bastards like Pink Floyd. Greedy, fat, hording bastards anyway!" When pressed why he finally relented and took the role, he explains, "The money was good. I liked the money. Money getcha stuff y' canna normally have, eh? Like pudding. I like pudding a lot. And blue diamonds. Like them too. And green clovers, and yellow stars. That's 'bout all I can say. Now fook off!"
Roger has a different take on the whole experience. "Oh, it was wonderful. I loved it. Really. After the lobotomy, wonderful. I'm all better now. Honest."
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Chapter 15: THE FLETCHER MEMORIAL SMOKERS' LOUNGE
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In 1982, Argentina's military dictator, Leopold "Buzz" Galtieri, took a rather strong dislike to the Falkland Islands. In fact, Galtieri's wife had recently convinced him to quit smoking. Nicotine withdrawls were turning Galtieri--usually a gentle, jolly man who loved kittens, puppies and baby ducklings--into a royal prick. And as a result of this uncharacteristic mood, Galtieri decided to invade the Falklands.
This rather upset Roger Waters, who had some deep-seated affection for barren, rocky islands with nothing on it but three farmers and one malnourished cow. It upset him enough to write an entire concept album about the negative effects of quitting smoking.
"When we started out, it was to consist of the bits we took out of Dank Side, which had been reject for Wish You Had Beer, which had been rejected again for Animal Crackers, and which they had refused to do for The Mall," said Waters in an interview with his dear friends at Q magazine. "But they were good bits. Incredibly good. I didn't want Gilmour or Mason to get any credit for those great pieces, so I decided to save them for a solo album. Instead, I just sat down for 15 minute and churned out some bollocks about smoking, and called it Final Butt."
At this point, the band decided to reinstate the "The" in their name. They would be known as Pink THE Floyd. What gave them this idea? "I was really drunk at the time," explained Roger.
Recording _Final Butt_ became a nightmare. David Gilmour described the routine which happened every day:
"Roger would show up at the studio about eleven," said Gilmour. "I would meet him at the door, where Roger would immediately wollop me hard in the stomach. He would kick me around a bit, and generally knock the living shit out of me. Then we would sit down for a spot of tea. Afterwards, Roger would twist my ear until I cried. Then we would enter the studio record for a half hour. While I was in the middle of a guitar solo, off in that dreamy guitar-solo world, Roger would sneak up behind me and punch me hard in the kidneys. I'd fall the the ground crying like a baby.
"At this point, Nick would usually come to my defense. Nick would stand up behind his drum kit and say, 'Alright Rog...' but Roger would just walk up to him and push him over backwards. Nick would fall into his drum kit, and Roger would proceed to beat the breath out of him, and finalize the beating with a kick in the groin. Then we'd record for another half hour before Roger would mutter, 'oh, fuck all this,' and walk out of the studio."
But was it really as bad as Gilmour describes?
"It was a very happy period," says Roger. "David would greet me at the door, and I'd meet him with a warm embrace, laughing. We have a spot of tea and chat away the morning. Come noon, we would start recording. Dave's suggestions were impeccable, and always welcomed. And Nick, well, no matter how complex the rhythms became, he was always right on top of it. After recording, we would spend the late afternoon petting kittens, puppies and baby ducklings and frolicking in a sunny field of flowers." Roger paused to add, "My only regret was that Rick Wright wasn't present."
And where was Rick?
"SHHHHHHHHNNNNNNOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRTT," admits Wright, pausing to wipe his nose and sniffle.
One of the most difficult moments in the recording of _Final Butt_ came while recording a short instrumental which opens the second side of the album. Roger Waters had written a piece titled, "Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Dessert" This upset Nick Mason deeply. Nick insisted that it should be changed to "Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Dessert Without Any Crust." In the end, Mason walked out of the recording session, and an old friend from Borneo stepped in to play drums on the track.
Interviewer: "So, what do you remember of the sessions for The Final Butt?"
Translator: "Ngaria no n-tickn arahna gorio De Finalio Marlboro?"
Ngai Mak Nono: "Fuck off."
Waters himself was apparently not a good bassist at all. "I never cared about playing my instrument," said Waters. "I play with my instrument in private sometimes, but I've never been very good at it. I never felt I was good enough to do it in front of an audience. I just don't find it exciting to play with my instrument. I'd rather leave my instrument in someone else's hands. So I always let David handle my instrument." And that was how Gilmour would up playing Bass on all the tracks on Final Butt.
"I only like three tracks on Final Butt," said Gilmour later. "The three that I played guitar solos on. The rest of it is not really to my taste. In fact, every time I hear the album, I get an intense fit of dry retching."
At the time the album was printed, it was to be titled Final Butt: A Requiem For A Lump Of Black Goop I Coughed Up On a Visit to Crete, and was to be authored by Pink The Floyd. However, by some mistake in the printing shop, the word "The" was misplaced, and so it became The Final Butt by Pink Floyd.
Waters was furious. It was the last straw. Waters immediately clobbered two of the printers with a two-by-four and announced he was leaving the band.
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Chapter 16: SHINE ON YOU LOONY NUT-BIRD
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During 1984, both Roger Waters and David Gilmour released solo albums and toured.
David Gilmour released, _Buttface_, which featured the dark, slow 18-minute prog rock opus "Blue Light," consistantly chosen as best song on any solo album in polls of Pink Floyd fans. He embarked on a world tour which sold out arenas and ampetheatres globally. Featuring a 300-piece orchestra, a 100-member choir, eight thousand lights (all blue), an Indian yoga master, the Ringling Bros. Circus, 150 trained poodles to be shot from cannons into the audience, and a shark named Bernie, the set consisted of David coming on stage, saying "Hi," and leaving. Audience members left not caring much anyway, seeing as they were blinded by the sheer wattage of lights, and many smelled like poodle shit.
Roger Waters released his own solo album, "The Pros and Cons of Ditch Digging". The concept album describes a series of explicitly pornographic dreams had by a Welsh ditch digger, who picks up a nude female hitch hiker and proceeds to practice the entire Kama Sutra on her.
"My wife had just left me," Roger Waters says to explain the erotic subject matter of the album. "I wasn't getting any."
Waters planned the concept simultaneously as a peep show, porno film & an album with a "Girls of Wales" sleeve. Consisting largely of the really good bits which Roger had been hoarding for himself since The Mall, Ditch Digging is widely hailed for its riveting melodies and complex musical diversity. Unfortunately, the lyrics were lousy.
Roger was flat broke at the time he began the album, and so he was forced to seek out a financial sponsor. And what he found was the American fast food chain Taco Bell, who agreed to sponsor him, for only a small price. The first song on the album was "4:30 AM (Apparently They Were Eating Burritos)." The lyrics opened with: "We were making a run for the border, Looking for something to eat..."
To fill the shoes of David Gilmour, Waters would have to find another guitar legend, a man of giant stature and intense emotion, a man whose blues licks were bigger than life: Tiny Tim. "His ukelele solo in 'Go Fission' always makes me cry," admits Waters. Conveniently, Tiny Tim was also able to sing in place of Waters' female backup singers, who were prompty laid off.
Rolling Stone critic said Kurt Loader called the album "a horrid mess. I don't know what kind of crap Waters could have been smoking when he wrote this drivel, but it couldn't have been the good stuff. I mean, where did he get this stuff about the leprechaun on side 2? Three and a half stars," while Andy Rooney said, "'Ditch-Digging' kicks ass! I loved it-- and I hate everything!"
In 1986, Waters recorded 20 minutes of music for the animated film "And The Cradle Will Rock." The film described how David Lee Roth and Eddie Van Halen somehow survive a nuclear holocaust. (One poignant moment from the film haunts many viewers: when David Lee Roth cries, "Eddie... my hair is falling out!")
Waters assumed that after the "The" debacle of _Final Butt_ and his subsequent departure, that Pink Floyd was dead. But in 1986, Pink Floyd issued a press statement saying that they would be reforming and calling themselves "The Osmonds."
Richard Wright heard the news and immediately rejoined Mason and Waters. "I was really excited," Wright said. "I've always wanted to perform 'One Bad Apple'."
Waters' lawyers promptly issued a legal statement: "Roger Waters was the major songwriter and produced of Dank Side of the Moon and The Mall, as well as the lead spitter and creative force. Waters also happens to have an aunt whose best friend was named Greta Osmond. Therefore, Waters disputes the right of Gilmour to organize a band using the name 'Osmond.' Waters will not again record or perform with Dave Gilmour and Nick Mason under the name the Osmonds, though he won't rule out appearing on an album with Donny and Marie Osmond, should they be inclined to invite him. Waters would also welcome the opportunity to play bass with the Bee Gees if they would consider him. And if there are any single females of English Nobility who like walks on the beaches, karaoke, kittens, puppies, baby ducklings and who has nice breasts, please contact Roger Waters through his management."
After many lengthy meetings, lawyers were able to agree on a solution: Gilmour and Waters would fight in a boxing ring, and only a knock-out would determine the winner. Months of athletic training ensued for both, and finally the day arrived.
Gilmour and Waters stood at opposite corners of the roped-off ring in Earl's Court, cheering fans filling the hall. The two bare-chested men glistened with sweat as they approached each other. The referee stepped aside, and punches began to fly. Gilmour, driven by the memory of all the times he had been abused during Final Butt, proceeded to beat the living daylights out of Roger Waters, who soon fell to the mat, trembling and mewling like a kitten until Gilmour silenced him with a kick to the groin.
The greatest spectacle of the night was when Donny Osmond showed up, and Gilmour proceded the pound the life out of him as well.
This event did not solve the problem. Waters' lawyers reasserted that the name 'Osmond' belongs to Roger Waters. The legal hassles frustrated Gilmour and Mason to no end. They opted to go into hiding on Dave's houseboat, which had an unlisted number, and secretly record an album. Recruiting Bob "The Fez" Ezrin to produce, calling Rick Wright out of retirement, and hiring Britain's best and brightest session lawyers, the band went to work. And, to circumvent the whole "Osmonds" fiasco, they decided to call themselves "Pink Floyd."
Wright, depressed by the realization that they would not be performing the song 'One Bad Apple' spent three days moping in his apartment and repeatedly kicking puppies, poking a Roger Waters voodoo doll given to him in Borneo, and sniffing & wiping his nose.
Not to be outdone, Roger Waters released "Radio KRAP" in 1986. Featuring yet another unbelievably implausible concept, the album tells the story of Billy (affectionately portrayed by Gary Coleman), a deaf, dumb, blind, crippled, and hideously-disfigured Welsh boy with amazing telekinetic powers which allow him to make prank calls to the local LA radio station. After teasing the rebel-without-a-clue DJ (portrayed by Jim "Jim" Ladd) for most of the record, Billy blows up the world, just as the Cubs were on the verge of winning the pennant. The album came with a 260-page companion book which was necessary to understand what the hell the album was supposed to be about. Nobody bought tickets to the concerts, so Roger just went from hall to hall performing to empty chairs, occasionally cursing and spitting.
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PART 4 - Chapter 17: A MOMENTARY LAPSE OF CASH FLOW
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