Roger Waters – Is This the Life We Really Want? Review

Roger Waters was never to the point with his work. It is what makes solo efforts from the Pink Floyd frontman so fascinating. His worldbuilding and storytelling range from the dense and underwhelming with Radio K.A.O.S. to the understated powerhouses of his discography like The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking. Where Is This the Life We Really Want? falls is rather clear. Our acceptance of a blur between culture and entertainment, the reangling of the latter word not as a treat but a distraction, was touched on with Amused to Death. But Waters’ straight-shooting follow-up, Is This the Life We Really Want?, has a fury to it which broadens the commentaries made on Amused to Death. Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death springs to mind, as do the atrocities across the globe, the murders and wars which Waters is moved by here.  

In aged songwriters, there should be wisdom and reflection. Waters brings the latter but lacks the former and his wordplay settles between defunct and clawing. His instrumentals still stand tall, marvellous occasions the whole way through with a few staggering tones. Déjà Vu may be a pontificating track but in the blasphemy is a sense of do-gooding which Waters truly believes. Conviction is half the battle. Is This the Life We Really Want? is an unquestionably sincere effort. A staggering vocal range, a spirited return to form which comes from Nigel Godrich coaxing a new album out of the legendary frontman. In Waters’ contemplation, which is frequently reflective, he finds himself struggling under the weight of similar tones from better artists. David Bowie’s influence features on half of these tracks and is never moved on from the more obvious Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars steals. Those little flickers of noise, the flipping of the TV or the sound of an electronic supermarket door, add very little.  

They provide, at best, a scratch or accidental smudge as to where Waters is dictating his venom. A shame, too, since this is some of the best writing Waters ever managed in his solo career. Staggering works on Déjà Vu or the sparse Picture That which flicks through the picture book of the frontman’s life, where he finds nothing but guilt and horror. Cultural commentaries are tricky irrespective of the artist, but Waters is more concerned with the death of individual thought than anything, and it sticks. Is This the Life We Really Want?, may sound similar at times, but the overhaul of instrumentals heard as the album grows into its anti-establishment tone, is remarkable. A malaise may make its way through culture but the lack of care, the emotional paralysis the world over, is charted and challenged by Waters. 

His experiences after the Second World War warn of a world where the slate was never wiped clean, a chance for peace and freedom lost. Sloppier writing comes through as he hits out against the American Dream, as though its endless pursuit was a victory for anyone, but he riffs on the premise of empty promises well enough. The trouble Waters has with these putdowns of the so-called Holy Grail, the caviar and major loans, is well beyond the real troubles of the world. Those moments in time which define the dying planet, the fear which keeps us in line is not the prospect of missing out on fish eggs but the war he uses as a backdrop for his title track, yet never explores. His heart is in the right place, his head turned away from the terror. Why count ants when, as he finds through the instrumental joys to follow and eventual album closer Part of Me Died, the problems start with perspective and performative juxtaposition.