• I don't know how fammiliar everyone is with Pink Floyd. I mean, other than the merchandise, it seems like they've almost evaporated into the stage of golden oldies, a place of "we'll remember you, but stay away."
    My fammiliarity is limited to what my parents have and a passing listen to select parts of The Wall.
    Anyway, I'm digging about on my computer, and I find a song.
    It's a song called "Learning to Fly", and it's off of the album A momentary Lapse of Reason.
    Last night I was listening to my MP3 player, and I pull up this song.
    I like to think there are two groups: The people who say that if you ever listen to Pink Floyd, listen to Dark Side of the Moon, and then the people who say if you ever listen to Pink Floyd, listen to The Wall.
    I believe that if you ever listen to Pink Floyd, listen to "Learining to Fly."
    At first listen, you could think that it was another five minute epic, good and all, but ultimately too dependent on the guitar and synth to amount to anything.
    Not true.
    Almost as powerful as the poetry is the music, which moves like wingbeats, accentuating the lyrics, which roll from the artist's mouth angelically, perfectly describing isolation, and longing, longing to fly away. Longing to break free.
    Choirs in the background cling to the notes, and every drum beat moves the wings of the song upward and every note (chord? riff?) on the guitar brings the wings down.
    The song feels the way flying should feel, and when our narrators voice sounds like it's far away, falling through a cave, it's because we know that he is flying.
    And we are flying right with him.