Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *

Of all the albums that Pink Floyd produced perhaps none come close to exploring melancholy, ghosts of the past and bitterness, despair and anger in equal measure than the 1975 release of Wish You Were Here.

Much has been written of the album’s mythos, the strangeness of seeing an old friend and leader of the Progressive Rock group standing in close proximity, staring meaningfully as the songs came to life, as they seemed to echo the disconnect that had been suffered with a sense of drama and distress; yet interestingly not with any kind of disruption to the machine, to the Pink Floyd story.

Like Animals and Dark Side Of The Moon, the expansion of the album in various forms as it reached a sizeable anniversary is to be welcomed, and whilst such extras could be found online elsewhere, the patient and investigative fan already well versed with the colossal amount of extras found, especially on the two box set versions; and perhaps slyly it does depend on which part of the machine you wish to be part of, how much money you are willing to spend to get the full effect.

The machine itself though has done wonders in this revitalised approach to the songs and the album as a whole, and for those who may have held on doggedly to their original copy, the grooves slowly eroding but the character of the memory holding firm, what comes across is a band very much at odds with the past, fracturing in the present, and yet like its predecessor and successor it exemplifies a truth, one born of humanity exposed, one that history shows to be a dynamic of confrontation within each personal psyche, and like all exceptional art it is one that embraces the darkness completely.

Wish You Were Here -50- is a highlight of releases, no matter which format the listener grasps for, a reminder of that mid-70s sense of perfection attained by the group that sent them stratospheric.

Ian D. Hall