The text describing Roger Waters' performance this year in Shanghai, along with a large number of impressive live pictures, was very moving. It took me back to that day.
...It's hard to describe my feelings for Pink Floyd. They are like colorful spots of light scattered across the starry sky, reflected in my mind, creating an illusion where reality and dreams alternate.
They are both ethereal and serious and profound. Those dazzling sounds, those thought-provoking themes, even the patterns and colors on the album inserts, deeply penetrated my nerves during the time when I greedily absorbed nutrients from music.
When I was still a young rebel, every time I listened to "The Wall", I would prepare a full hour and a half of quiet time, feeling as if I were experiencing a baptism from start to finish, not wanting to be interrupted by anything, it was almost like a ritual. The movie directed by Alan Parker, I watched it over and over again, following the protagonist through countless cycles of decay and struggle. I am familiar with every melody, every transition, and whenever they suddenly play somewhere, I get a jolt.
"The child is grown, the dream is gone...", now I no longer indulge in those "Comfortably Numb", nor am I swayed to extremes by Roger Waters' political themes, but those albums published 30 years ago are still vivid and touching every time I listen to them. Those tracks lasting more than ten minutes still have the power to make me put everything aside and just listen. "The Dark Side Of The Moon" is still avant-garde, "Wish You Were Here" still brings tears to my eyes, those fantastic imaginations, those boundless color illusions, can still make rainbows burst forth in my eyes.