Someone once pointed out to me that there exist mainly two types of people in the world: the ones who listen to Pink Floyd and the ones who feel it.
Our society is a wonder of sorts. Like my friend pointed out, “Good Music” and Pink Floyd in particular, cannot be merely heard and savagely put aside. It can only be felt. But Pink Floyd fans too, come in all shapes and sizes. For instance, aren’t we all overly familiar by the careless and reckless drunkards who sit alone and rather forlorn, drowning their misery in tubs full of beer and spirit-ual whatnot, claiming or almost proclaiming to be “comfortably numb” or “wearing the inside out”?
Our world is a strange place that has managed to manufacture an abundance of sheer stupidity.
Do you ever feel so absurdly attached to a particular song that somewhere along the way, everything about that song becomes a part of you and you become a part of it in turn? And there comes a point where you just don’t want to share that piece of ingenuity with people who won’t take it the way you do?
I think my obsession with my playlist is kind of...unhealthy.
But I believe that bands like Pink Floyd deserve a certain level of respect that can only be attained, not by listening to them or popularizing them in social circles to establish your identity as a “person with an incredible knack for music”, but by losing yourself to the rhythm of it. If you love Pink Floyd the way we do, your thoughts will run deeper for a mind so inexplicably simple.
There is something about them that catapults people into trying them out at least once in their lifetime. Some come out disappointed and I don’t blame them, partly because one has to be mature enough musically, to appreciate it. Some come out in a daze, wondering how to memorize the lyrics as fast as possible for potential Facebook/Whatsapp/whichever-place-is- bereaved-of-your-existence’s status updates.
Some, on the other hand, come out as a new person, having discovered what they hadn’t known before. Things explained so simply and beautifully in a span of just a couple of minutes. Conversations exchanged so intricately and delicately through music. That, my dear dumbstruck/awfully bored friends, is called the “Floyd Effect”.
They gave us music, while today's boy bands give us hell. Read here for my rant on today's boy bands.