The Endless River is the 15th, and supposedly final, record from the legendary Pink Floyd, created as a posthumous tribute to the late Richard Wright, the band’s long time keyboardist. David Gilmour and Nick Mason put the album together, drawing from six hours of extra instrumental recordings that had been left over from the Division Bell sessions from 1994. The album is created from various pieces of music from the tapes, as well as new material from the surviving members and studio musicians.
Wright passed away in 2008, which naturally started speculation of some type of tribute from the remaining members of the band. However, time passed and no music came, so the world moved on, making the sudden release of The Endless River a bit of a surprise.
The album is arranged in four unnamed pieces, one per record side, split into multiple tracks or movements, much like a classical work. This makes for an interesting listening experience, as the four works are fairly distinct. It seems best to approach them one side at a time.
Side one opens with “Things Left Unsaid,” a clear reference to the deceased and Floyd’s discordant history. It’s a sweeping and delicate track, leaning heavily of Wright’s synth to create the canvas on which David Gilmour paints with soft, gentle guitar work. It’s an expansive, beautiful introduction to the album.
“It’s What We Do,” a seemingly tongue in cheek reference to the band’s signature sound, is highly appropriate for what’s to come. Wright’s heavy organ work leads into classic Floyd themes, heavy synth lines set the scene, Mason holds it all all together with seemingly effortless, simple drumming, while Gilmour wanders confidently between the lines, laying down his signature guitar sound, a mix of powerful chords and loud blues influenced passages, and delicate emotional riffing. This is classic Pink Floyd, sounding like a track that didn’t quite make the cut on Wish You Were Here.
“Ebb And Flow” is a short, quiet outro of sorts to the whole piece of music. It feels like release after the musical tension of the song prior, resolving the emotions created. Beautiful work on what sounds like a Hammond B3 organ to end the side.
“Sum” is proudly weird and trippy, showing a band making music for themselves rather than a wider audience, which is the truest form of expression. Mason pounds out a huge beat, framing the track larger than life, Wright paints the backdrop, while Gilmour’s explosive guitar work plays out front and center. “Skins” continues to showcase Nick Mason’s chops, keeping that wide framework open, beating out an intense rhythm, while Gilmour plays spacey noise rock and Wright creates texture.
“Unsung” is immediately tense and powerful, Gilmour’s piercing guitar shrieks through Wright’s fat piano chords and light synth. The intro resolves into a piano heavy track, “Anisina,” which is much more acoustic than anything else so far. The song is highly reminiscent of the B-side of Dark Side Of The Moon, especially with the saxophone solos. Perhaps a bit campy, but somehow comforting and welcome, like an old friend.
The third side of the album is made up of several shorter pieces, rather than a few long tracks. “The Lost Art Of Conversation” opens on delicate guitar and piano work, the sound of falling water in the background. This is Wright at his finest, in terms of acoustic piano work. Mason comes in, along with some vibraphone type synth leads, and “On Noodle Street” has started. Unfortunately, this feels like a filler track of little substance.
“Night Light” changes tone entirely, to a more grandiose, sweeping sound much like the first side of the album. It’s very pretty, but feels out of place with the rest of the side so far, leaving things somewhat disjointed. “Allons-y (1)” cranks out the big power chords and picked guitar sounds so distinct to The Wall, this again feels like a song left off at the last second. “Autumn ‘68” is a brief organ vignette, in heavy minor tones, with Gilmour joining at the end. “Allons-y (2)” brings us back around to the heavy “On The Run” style guitar work.
The final track on the side is the poorly named “Talkin’ Hawkin’,” featuring narration from, you guessed it, Stephen Hawking, the physics genius, a reference to the fact that his voice was also featured on the song “Keep Talking” from The Division Bell.
The final side opens with “Calling,” which is immediately weird, laced with sound effects and creeping synth. The bass rumbles unsettlingly. This track is downright creepy and unnerving, like something out of the score the the Myst game series.
“Eyes To Pearls” is oddly bass-centric, featuring Andy Jackson, one of the bands recording engineers. “Surfacing” brings us back toward the stadium rock sound of The Wall, bringing in some vocals for the first time on the record, in the form of subtle background support vocals, no real lyrics.
The first and only lead vocals on the album show up at last in the final track, “Louder Than Words.” The lyrics, opening with “We bitch and we fight, diss each other on sight,” are clearly directed at former bandmate Roger Waters, who left the band many years earlier after long years of infighting and anger. It’s a larger than life song, and almost seems like Gilmour and Mason are trying to burry the hatchet. A gorgeous, uplifting track, and a fitting end to an album like this.
The public response to this album has been decidedly mixed, which may be partially due to the nature of the album. But, it seems unfair to view this like you would any other new album from any other band. This is Pink Floyd’s farewell, a grandiose work that reaches back across the band’s greatest musical achievements, ignoring the lines in the sand from years of fighting to create a final statement. This is a way of looking back fondly on a career of ups and downs, a fitting thank you to fans and each other. “Louder Than Words” feels like a genuine attempt at ending the fighting. The group is effectively dissolving, and with it decades of joy and pain. In that light, this is absolutely a monumental success.