Roger Waters – In the Flesh Review

Harvesting the best bits of Pink Floyd is a rite of passage for its former members. Both David Gilmour and Roger Waters would do so, the latter with a reliance on the theatrics. His ex-bandmate would grab at a taste for nostalgia, but being the lead vocalist, would have the edge. Gilmour, then, does not have to do much more than turn up with a light show and occasionally a glass harp player. Waters would take the shows to a performative edge. His adaptation of The Wall is a clear winner, and In the Flesh, a showcase of Pink Floyd and solo moments, is a mesmerising experience even without footage. A two-hour powerhouse of a performance which manages to overcome the teething issues of Pink Floyd live albums. They are as much reliant on the spectacle as the sound, but Waters has consistently offered great live albums. Between this, Us and Them, and This is Not a Drill, listeners are spoilt for choice.  

Waters addresses the balance of great works. He once said he wished to be remembered for The Dark Side of the Moon, The Wall, and his solo album, Amused to Death. He brings all three together on In the Flesh. The opening, title track, is a test of media literacy skills but also serves as a staggering mood-setter. Some deeply moving guitar work with a solid vocal performance from Waters. It’s that overlap which In the Flesh showcases so frequently. It’s a strong start for In the Flesh, an emotive tone matched by the occasion, a chance to hear Waters perform some of the biggest songs in his career. With or without Pink Floyd, these are the moments that will define him for decades to come. This is not just those three peaks of his career, though. Waters dips into The Final Cut and The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking too. The former is a clear dip in quality for the show, but the latter is well placed towards the end of In the Flesh.  

Waters and Gilmour may be two different artists but their interpretation of Pink Floyd works is telling. There is a cautionary momentum which guides Waters through these renditions of classic songs. Every piece feels like a note of future fears, of prediction. Gilmour has an emotive, soppier outlook. Both are valid reads on the work at hand, and it solely comes down to a listener’s mood as to which they prefer. In the Flesh has a menacing sound to it because Waters warns against the world, and those constant challenges against the status quo, as heard on the likes of Wish You Were Here and Time are magnificent. Part of the shock which works in Waters’ favour here is including songs like Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun and Dogs, two songs which show how much changed for the band in such a short time.  

Adapting both to the stage shows a fearlessness which Waters would arguably lose on recent releases. Welcome to the Machine is the high point. In the Flesh hits that perfect moment here, Waters’ exceptional vocal work, the backing vocalists and explosive instrumental style are nothing short of brilliant. Had Waters bottled this emotive high across the two-hour album, it would be an all-time great live album. A few sluggish moments prevent that, but it’s a strong piece of stage work all the same. Part of the charm for these performances, decades on from release, is hearing how a performer’s voice can offer new emotion. Shine on You Crazy Diamond (Parts 1 to 8) is a perfect example. Waters tackles a Gilmour-led song and offers a colder, cracking rendition. It’s the same for many of the songs featured on In the Flesh, an often great live album.