The Dark Side of the Moon was an immediate success, topping the Billboard Top LPs & Tapes chart for one week. It subsequently remained in the charts for 741 weeks from 1973 to 1988. With an estimated 50 million copies sold, it is Pink Floyd’s most commercially successful album and one of the best-selling albums worldwide. It has twice been remastered and re-released, and has been covered in its entirety by several other acts. It spawned two singles, “Money” and “Time”. In addition to its commercial success, The Dark Side of the Moon is one of Pink Floyd’s most popular albums among fans and critics, and is frequently ranked as one of the greatest albums of all time. On 22 March 2013, the album was preserved by the Library of Congress into the National Recording Registry, calling it “culturally, historically, and aesthetically significant, and/or reflect life in the United States.”
Like Diana Nyad, I’ve swum against the tide before, and it looks like I’m going to do it again with The Dark Side of the Moon. I accept all responsibility and await your condemnation of my lack of taste, my poor sense of aesthetics, my obviously limited intelligence and my innate inability to perceive the obvious. Feel free to dismiss me as yet another dumb blonde if you’re into that kind of thing.
The truth is, I think it’s boring.
I’ve often wondered why The Dark Side of the Moon has never moved me in the least. After all, I gave Wish You Were Here a very positive review and will probably do the same for Animals if I ever get around to reviewing it. Overcoming my lassitude, I gave The Dark Side of the Moon the usual three times through, hoping to discover something I was missing or to find a phrase, a lick or a tiny bit of melody to stir my passions.
Nope. The needle didn’t move from the last reading. I still think it’s generally a boring collection of music. Occasionally it rises to the level of pleasant, and sometimes I can admire the technical aspects of the recording. I think one song is excellent, but in the end, I find The Dark Side of the Moon rather lifeless.
Allow the dumb blonde to explain.
Lyrics: With one exception, the lyrics never rise to the occasion. The language is more abstract rather than concrete, creating a huge distance between the listener and the writer. We don’t get the vivid lines we hear in Wish You Were Here or Animals (“You radiate cold shafts of broken glass”), but meaningless dribble in tortured syntax (“Long you live and high you fly/And smiles you’ll give and tears you’ll cry”). There are way too many filler and cliché lines, like “Money, so they say, is the root of all evil today” and “The time is gone, the song is over/Thought I’d something more to say.” I didn’t like the fact that they ripped off Thoreau without giving credit (“Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way”). They make some decent points about the evils of the system, about the absurdity of war, about the emptiness of work in a modern society, but none have the emotional impact of songs by other artists (The Kinks, Jethro Tull, John Lennon, etc.) who dealt with the same subjects. To be fair, decent lyrics were not all that common in the progressive rock scene of the early 1970s, as Yes and Genesis demonstrate so vividly with their sometimes unintelligible gibberish. The one exception on The Dark Side of the Moon is “Brain Damage,” a song that thematically belongs on Wish You Were Here anyway. That’s a great fucking song.
Music: The instrumentals range from pure filler to annoying. “The Great Gig in the Sky” is the worst, and while I’ve read reviewers rave about Clare Torry’s wordless vocal that allegedly evokes the experience of facing death, I hear an over-the-top example of vocal excess that occasionally calls up memories of seagulls squawking in the skies over San Francisco. Too much of the music relies upon the vague feel of major-seventh chords, which also encourages that dull, oscillating two-tone melody that dominates the album. In “Time,” David Gilmour’s energetic vocal doesn’t work with the lyrics, which describe living a dull life (he should have studied Ray Davies, who is a master at matching a character’s mood to music). Pink Floyd also had a habit of extending the empty space between lyrical lines to the point of absurdity, and much of the length of the songs on The Dark Side of the Moon consists of unnecessary measures of nothingness. They used empty space much more effectively in “Pigs (Three Different Ones),” where the extra measures after the vocal lines communicate the seething anger of the narrator, a pattern of burst-catch breath-burst. If Pink Floyd had covered “She Loves You,” it would have gone on for ten and a half fucking minutes.
Minor Annoyances: I hate the sound effects. Fucking hate them. The ringing cash register, the bells and alarm clocks, the barely intelligible conversations—fucking hate them all. The transition between “Any Colour You Like” and “Brain Damage” is clumsy. Nick Mason’s drum part on “Money” is far too busy, very surprising for a drummer who spends most of his time working with consistently slow tempos. Maybe he was bored.
Pluses: I love David Gilmour’s voice, even when I don’t care for the songs he’s singing. His lead solos are always a highlight on any Pink Floyd record. Roger Waters does some very nice vocal work throughout the album, and the harmonization on the record is simple but effective. “Brain Damage” is brilliantly written and performed, and the laughter is chilling (the one sound effect I liked). Dick Parry plays the saxophone competently, if unremarkably.
In the end, The Dark Side of the Moon is not offensive like Exile on Main Street, another album everybody loves that this dumb blonde considers a turkey. It’s certainly better than Let It Be, a good half of The White Album and three-quarters of Abbey Road (nope, didn’t like Abbey Road either).
But it’s so. . . dull.
Okay, that’s enough. Little Miss Airhead needs her sleep, and thanks to The Dark Side of the Moon, I’m feeling pretty drowsy.