Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here shines on, 50 years later

It’s approaching the 50-year anniversary of Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd’s ninth and arguably most accomplished album. Although often overshadowed by The Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here is a masterpiece in its own right. It’s an album defined by the loss of a friend and frontman, which combines an intimate reflection on grief with a shockingly prophetic vision of the music industry.

At the heart of Wish You Were Here is the tragedy of Syd Barrett, the group’s original guitarist and vocalist, who left the band due to drug abuse and severe mental health issues. His enduring influence hangs over the album; indeed, he returned to the studio during the recording process, leaving former bandmates shaken by his almost unrecognisable appearance. Simultaneously, the band were left grappling with their newfound fame, having been thrust into the spotlight by the release and subsequent success of The Dark Side of the Moon in 1973.

The album is intensely personal without sacrificing any of its grander political ambitions

Stripped of the spectacle of its predecessor, the album is intensely personal without sacrificing any of its grander political ambitions. These themes are brought into sharp focus by Roger Waters’s lyricism and David Gilmour’s guitar, aided by synthesisers and drums courtesy of Richard Wright and Nick Mason respectively. While the recording sessions were fraught at times, Pink Floyd had not yet reached their breaking point, and this is reflected in the album’s quality.

Wish You Were Here opens with its longest track, a prolonged lament for an absent friend: ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Pts. 1-5)’. The song is centred on a haunting guitar refrain which has since achieved iconic status, only interrupted by Waters’ sombre vocals at the nine minute mark. This leaves plenty of time for Gilmour’s tastefully restrained yet expressive guitar playing, which is noticeably free from the soaring majesty of the solos on ‘Time’ or, later in 1979, ‘Comfortably Numb’. The song ends with a passionate saxophone solo by Richard Parry, who also played on The Dark Side of the Moon, most notably on ‘Money’. On any other album, this would be the standout track.

 ‘Shine On’ segues smoothly into the desolate industrial soundscape of ‘Welcome to the Machine’ and quickly establishes the emotionally charged politics of Wish You Were Here. The private tragedy of Syd Barrett becomes a public commentary on the insatiable exploitation of the music industry; Barrett’s own breakdown becomes symbolic of the musicians chewed up and spat out by the ‘machine’. The track’s initial ambience is then punctured by heavily layered, futuristic synthesisers and Waters’ talented lyricism once again comes to the fore. He comments on the commodification of artistic creativity: “What did you dream? It’s alright, we told you what to dream” (‘Welcome to the Machine’, Pink Floyd).

Pink Floyd’s vision of the industry feels distinctly dystopian, dominated by an unsavoury combination of ignorance and greed

In an abrupt yet thematically cohesive change of tone, ‘Have a Cigar’ brings the listener into the office of a music executive, who tells the band: “You gotta get an album out / You owe it to the people”(‘Have a Cigar’, Pink Floyd). This allusion to the music industry churning through artists in a bid to hit the charts is accompanied by disquietingly upbeat instrumentalism, with a bass groove and energetic guitar solo. Voiced by folk musician Roy Harper, the executive asks, “Oh, by the way, which one’s Pink?” (‘Have a Cigar’, Pink Floyd), assuming that ‘Pink Floyd’ is the name of one of the band members. Pink Floyd’s vision of the industry feels distinctly dystopian, dominated by an unsavoury combination of ignorance and greed.

After a brief burst of radio, the album’s most famous song, ‘Wish You Were Here’, opens with another memorable riff from Gilmour, this time played on a twelve-string acoustic guitar. The popularity of ‘Wish You Were Here’ is unsurprising, given that this song above all captures the emotional devastation wrought by Barrett’s absence. Not to be outdone by Gilmour’s guitar, Waters’ lyrics are particularly poignant here; he suggests that “we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year” (‘Wish You Were Here’, Pink Floyd). Sure enough, the album takes the listener on a cyclical journey, beginning and ending with ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond’.

With Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd set the gold standard for introspective and politically astute rock, with a legacy that extends into the 21st century

‘Wish You Were Here’ ends with the sound of wind blowing, which continues seamlessly on the album’s final track ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Pts. 6-9)’. This is in many ways the perfect outro, featuring the most dramatic solo on the album. Gilmour’s lap steel guitar shrilly mimics the rising and falling cry of a mourner before the vocals return for one final time, telling the absent Barrett “we’ll bask in the shadow of yesterday’s triumph / And sail on the steel breeze” (‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Pts. 6-9)’, Pink Floyd). In the dying moments of the track, a brief snatch of melody from one of Barrett’s songs, ‘See Emily Play’, can faintly be heard, one last tribute by Wright before the album reaches its conclusion.

With Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd set the gold standard for introspective and politically astute rock, with a legacy that extends into the 21st century. The album’s bleak view of the music industry now appears to have been worryingly prescient. By the time of Syd Barrett’s death in 2006, companies had already begun to shift towards a streaming model with the creation of Spotify, and the exploitation of the ‘70s has continued in the form of streaming giants’ cynical underpayment of artists. In many ways, Wish You Were Here is deeply rooted in time and place, but its intimacy and provocative politics remain undiminished, even half a century later.