David Gilmour – Rattle That Lock Review

Inspiration can strike from anywhere. For David Gilmour and the lead-up to Rattle That Lock, it presumably hit him when locked out of his bike shed. Elusive and infrequent the solo works of the Pink Floyd guitarist may be, he has gotten better at the turn of the century. His self-titled effort was an unremarkable, if sturdy, experience, and his follow-up, About Face, was so miserably strained that it stopped his solo ventures for over a decade. He returned well enough and making good on it with Rattle That Lock means maintaining the form heard through On an Island. Yet, this piece from Gilmour has more in common with the blues of About Face than the instrumental carnage, which made his 2006 release such an intoxicating, welcoming experience. Rattle That Lock tries to slide Gilmour back into guitar-like jazz but it is not all there. 

Your ears do not deceive you, 5 A.M. does. It is that quiet. Let it grow into itself though, those violins and string quartets are made useful once more. Sadly, plain guitar work soon takes over and a relatively flavourless instrumental introduction fades in and out. There is not much rattling, more of a consolidation of what Gilmour has been known for his whole career, delicate guitar solos. He picks up the pace with a more groove-driven and soulful title track but even this has a few teething issues. Catchy, but not moving. Rattle That Lock is an unfortunately passive album which allows its melancholy and reflective nature to rule the roost. Dancing Right in Front of Me is one of the few songs here to get a better grasp on its tone, with heavy guitar working through the intimacy of the song.  

Attempts at a running narrative are made in the whistling introduction to In Any Tongue but the impact is minimal at best. Acts of violence heard on this track sound pathetic. Gun in hand and blinded by the doubt has never sounded so facile and middle of the road. Rattle That Rock has a shock value to it, but not from the excitement or thrill found within, no, it comes from the plodding nature of what should be its most inspired moments. We can remain in awe of Gilmour as a guitarist and instrumental visionary – there are spots here which flicker to life like the finest moments of Pink Floyd – but there is much lost to his approach in writing. Beauty is just that, and the instrumental proves its delicacy.  

But when it is time to write material for those moving moments of music it all falls in on itself. Rattle That Lock feels for a shared experience, a universal scenario in which everyone can learn something of themselves and one another but fails to cause much of a scene. And yet these are the lyrical comments of Gilmour’s long-established writing partner Polly Samson. Perhaps the Paradise Lost references and dependency are all too much for the instrumentals then. One needs to up their game, and with the upcoming Luck and Strange sounding like a stronger showcase of their abilities, it may be a clearer chance to hear Gilmour at his very, independent best.