Few people have had such a resounding impact in my life as Roger Waters, and if I'm not careful, I might attribute that to mere talent, except it's not just that. Rather, it's the rarity of recognizing someone who's genuine.
If you're one of those "I love Pink Floyd, but can't stand Roger's politics" people, kindly fuck off to the bar.
Was the announcement that began every show of his last tour, This Is Not a Drill. Personally, Roger's politics are one of my favorite thing about him because time and again, he's shown he is not biased and not one-sided, as is the case (unfortunately) with many public figures. While Trump was first in office, he spent years criticizing him during live shows, and then, as soon as Biden rolled into town, he moved to that old, slobbering fool. As far as I'm concerned, Roger's always been on the side of truth and humanity, standing up for our side, the human side, not getting trapped in petty mind-games and cheap propaganda.
He was an advocate for Palestine long before it was trendy. I mean, all publicity is good publicity in this case, but a lot of people chanting in the street now only woke up to it in the last two years, when it became the left-leaning party line. Again, not to criticize it, but Roger was talking about this (and getting shit for it regularly) for years before it was publicized into a mass concern.
He took up the causes of various freedom fighters, journalists, activists and other people trapped under the hammer's weight, illegaly imprisoned, and so on. Roger's always the person who subverts your expectation and I've clicked on countless of his videos, expecting the same old, only to find him bringing light on some unknown story of corruption and abuse.
He's tried, in his way, to intervene and support peace in Ukraine for years.
He was also a big voice in the fight to free Julian Assange, a cause extremely dear to the heart of anyone who values freedom of speech on this earth. He participated in rallies, signed petitions, did appearances on Julian's behalf. Did a lot more than most public voices who claimed to support Julian have done.
And you'll remember, some of you, that wasn't that hard. There was a time when you'd get excited hearing Julian's name on some random podcast, just knowing the world hadn't forgotten. When I saw the huge screens flash FREE JULIAN ASSANGE in concert two years ago, I cried (as I'm sure did many). It felt incredibly bittersweet to enjoy something so much when a man who did more for freedom than most alive today was rotting in the filthiest, worst place American criminals-in-office could come up with.
I found myself crying again last night, during the first screening of Roger's This is Not a Drill live show. It seemed surreal, looking back, to realize Julian's been free for a year already, that it was so soon, that he made it, after all. I remember thinking that's not fucking likely during the original concert.
Roger's show reminds you heavily, unreservedly that we are in a very dark place. Still killing each other for the interest of corporate assholes, still divided and embittered towards our fellow man. Still choking under so much injustice. Still, occasionally, good things happen. Miracles happen.
Because that night they freed Julian was nothing short of a miracle.
From time to time, good things happen. And it's in no small measure because good ordinary men continue fighting for them.
The film of Roger Waters's concert is touching, albeit too quiet at times. Predictably, it lacks some of the visceral force of the messages he broadcasts throughout the live show, but it's still a fantastic show. Worth seeing even just for the production alone - it's certainly not your average "we came, we played, we left" type of gig.
But what struck me both then and now is how easily it could not have happened. When he filmed these, Roger Waters was 79 years old. It's a 2h30 show, plus prep, plus soundcheck, in short, it's a lot of work especially for someone at that age (though to be fair, to see the way he looks and the energy he has, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was 60).
Last night, I kept thinking "he doesn't need to do this". No doubt it takes a physical toll. He could just come on stage, play for some 80 minutes, nothing but the hits, of course, then leave, and thanks to his rep, people would still come see it. It's quite obvious, watching Roger, it's not money, fame or adulation that drives him though. Rather, it's the belief that what he has to say is worth saying. That he hasn't got that much time left and he is going to spend it fighting for this planet. For us. For human rights.
The show, which comes out on video on August 1st, is a loud reminder that Roger Waters isn't one to suffer fools (or tyrants) gladly, and if you had any sense, neither would you.
One of many brilliant moments of the show. When I saw it live, it brought to mind and heart a heavy loss. Last night, it focused me more on the many worthwhile things (and people) we are in the process of losing. "When you lose someone you love, it serves to remind you this is not a drill." This hasn't been a good year, and I think often of the lyrics of another dear man, The hurt gets worse, and the heart gets harder. And still, and yet, I remember when Roger sang Wish You Were Here for Julian Assange. I remember miracles happen. That there are good things. And maybe it's worth resisting, then, that encroaching hardening of the heart.
