Roger Waters: This Is Not A Drill – Live From Prague. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *

A statement of intent is delivered by the musician even before the first note is played, and as the listener is thrust into the government’s obscene acts of apathy of the age, as the warning sound that counters the misleading valour of indifference, to feel the venom and sheer anger from a man already past an age where they might be thought of as content in their dotage, Roger Waters uses his strength, his will, to inform that, to paraphrase and tone down, if you like Pink Floyd’s music but don’t like Roger’s politics, then…leave. 

Pulling no punches is a constant reaction for the hero of Progressive Rock, indeed it has elements of virtuous Punk deeply embedded within, caring absolutely, but damning with words that are straightforward, searingly honest, and without remorse; and as the audio captured essence of the tour continues, This Is Not A Drill – Live From Prague, so the combustible beauty of Pink Floyd and solo works combine with ferocity, charm, and a dream of cool to which few can provide.

Utilising his carefully selected band and players, This Is Not A Drill cuts deeper into the heart of the listener than arguably almost all of Roger’s solo live releases; it holds onto the anger with passion, it grips the sadness of isolation, the despair of the world’s troubles, its pains, its desecration of basic human decency, and throughout it all gives the kind of impressive performance that exemplifies the longevity of the performer and his ethics.

Opening with the classic Comfortably Numb, rather than what the fans would normally expect as a near set closer is a welcome surprise, indeed its strangely softer groove gives it a more melancholic thread of delivery, of touching upon a nerve of inevitability.

It is from this unexpected opening that the album finds force in abundance, a reminder perhaps of those times when we were startled to be held against our will by those insisting that we were living the best days of our lives during the totalitarianism of 1970s school dogma, and as The Bravery Of Being Out Of Range, The Powers That Be, Have A Cigar, Wish You Were Here, Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Sheep, Money, Us And Them, Déjà vu, Brain Damage, and the absurdity of destruction that awaits us as we continue on the course of barbarism in Two Suns In The Sunset, and as the balance of Roger Waters with musicians such as Jon Carin, Dave Kilminster, and Joey Waronker produces a sound of demonstrative completeness, the lengths undertaken to reflect and perhaps alert are willingly digested and felt deeply.

Once more Roger Waters has shown the world requires artistic venom, of a burning anger that is positive and firm, and the reminder that this is not a drill but a full-on emergency is to be taken as stated, with overwhelming human feeling.

Ian D. Hall