Echoes, Echoes, Echoes!!!!

sorry don't know where the k came from, 24 bit as opposed to 128 bit etc

I Think The "K" refers to the fact that this is 24 karat Gold disc, Obviously NOT a 24 KB CD...





Yoav.

The sound quality must be crap.

I'm talking NONSENSE again, don't I?

Never Mind, I'll see you after the next shock Therapy

it was just a typeo on my part!

I am listerning to it again now and it is not that bad.

Am I allowed to post a 3 mb mp3?

As far as names go......

Nothing parts 1-24 (working title)
How We Won The Double (Roger Waters' proposed title)

live performances names -

The Return Of The Son Of Nothing (April to July 1971)

The March Of The Dam Busters (Frankfurt Nov 16 1972)

Looking Through The Knot Holes In Grannies Wooden Leg (Boeblingen Noevember 15 1972)

I'm desperately in love with Echoes. I have not heard the chopped-up version but just the thought of it makes me ill. I set my cd player to A Pillow of Winds and Echoes almost every night when I go to bed. Don't know if I could let a night pass without listening to Echoes - it takes my tired brain away to a better place.

I have a Nov. 6, 1971 live bootleg of Echoes that's a bit boomy but otherwise very nice if you woogie with the EQ. There's also a decent version of Embryo on it.

But yeah, Echoes is a FANTASTIC thing. I wouldn't mind sitting through every version ever done. Does that make me a fanatic or just weird?

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"Last year, the role of the pig wasn't as important, but people like it, so we set it free again. Without the pig we probably wouldn't have sold a single ticket." - David Gilmour

I do the same thing with dark side, however I lost the cd a while back, havent had a goodnight's sleep since.

I could remember being little and hearing my da play dark side at night, and I'd end up falling asleep, except on the nights he didn't play it, I didn't fall asleep to easy.Strange how that works.

You sure? cos my live version has a no bass under neath this so called synth, and sounds likea bass with an affect.

Well the live versions are going to be different, obviously because Rick doesn't have 6 hands.

you took the words right out of my mouth.

Well, with all of the recent offerings of Echoes by BDG, I still have to vote for the Pompeii version being the best. The Gdansk version just released by Gilmour is pretty good, too, but doesn't capture the raw energy of Pompeii.

It's sad to know that Gilmour and Wright will never again exchange licks in the middle of Echoes.

Echoes of Pompeii

Maybe it really was just a dream. From the opening scene in the sun drenched Coliseum. Through the empty streets of a long forgotten city. To the menacing mountain that spews volcanic ash. The visual and the musical elements were in synch together on this journey. The opening Ping of the song starts in motion the slow moving parts that join in as the musicians softly sing the opening lyrics.
Two of them are singing the same words as to give the sound more depth. The music is floating around them in waves and the breeze is blowing into the guitarist’s face as he continues to sing with his hair flying about. At times you can’t really see his face as it is covered by his hair.
The camera pans around the streets of the once bustling city that civilization had abandoned in fear of its active volcano. The old statues that are still alive show signs of age but also strength, fear, and pain. The music builds in the background before returning to its original pace again.
The empty Coliseum is alive again as the band breathes new life into this ancient arena. It is empty because the band wanted the remote setting to play this piece in. The old structure and the sounds coming from inside seemed to be joined together as one.
I explained earlier that this must have been a dream. It begun with the manager of the band traveling the summer before, and visiting the coliseum on a bus tour. After returning to the bus he realized he left his passport on the steps of the crumbling building. When he returned his passport was in the same spot but the chilly air and darkening skies clutched at him in a way that he was sure he would return here again.
Had he been here before? In a previous lifetime maybe?
This was the place for the film to be made he was sure of that. Here was the obvious choice to capture the solitude the group was seeking to present their epic piece. How would they get all the equipment here he wondered? That could be worked out later. While leaving he ran into a small boy who must have been on the bus too. They both nodded as the boy passed him on the stairway then disappeared as the man returned to the bus.
As the bus was leaving the man asked.
“ What about the Boy?” No one paid attention to his question until the bus driver turned and asked.
“What Boy?”
“ The one at the Ruins” he said.
“ Does anyone know of a missing Boy?” the driver said.
All was quite as the bus lumbered up the dusty trail in search of the road. The man thought he saw a figure but it vanished in the darkness of the mysterious site. Was it the boy or someone else? The boy could have been a local the man thought. But there were no locals here. It had been almost two thousand years since anyone lived here.
The sound coming from within the large bowl had changed into a thumping repetition of drum and bass. The vocals had taken a rest and the beat started to put you in a trance like a soundtrack to an old porno movie.
A searing guitar ripped through the thunderous beat and gave the song new direction. The guitarist was bare foot and shirtless. His dirty feet were evident as he had become one with the ground on which much blood had been witnessed long ago.
This electric onslaught firing out of the guitarist amp seemed to touch all senses. The guitarist settled down and scene’s from the town and its smoking, gurgling volcanic presence were viewed again. The band was shown running up and over vast landscape’s that had been beaten by the sun, and wind since the beginning of time.
An organ took hold and started to fill the air with almost hypnotic choral sounds as the rest of the band remained silent. Again the camera flashed to the ruins in the city that had no human pulse. One scene is burned into his memory. A river of lava snaking its way as long as the eye can see until it splits into a fork.
The eerie sounds that cascaded out the top of the bowl are heard from the outside faintly. An umbrella sits opened by a table on the floor of the arena. The Camera slowly pans out as to catch a wide view of the bands array of equipment as the song carries on to its masterful conclusion
The dream continued…
Someone in the band was asking about a little boy who they thought they saw in the top level of the coliseum.
“Is he local?” he asked
The manager smiled.
“Maybe he came for the music” someone added.

Or maybe he was just part of a dream?