Pink Floyd’s The Wall has been a touchstone and a target for everyone since it was released. It was in one package, a surrealistic rock treatise, a diatribe against the machine of modern music, a cry for help, a modern rock monument, and a bloated rock opera.
For me, it has always been encapsulated by the plaintive cry of a young boy. “look mummy, there’s an airplane up in the sky.”
In the course of The Wall, those airplanes are the ones that carried his papa to his death. But;
in a recent get-together at our (full) deck, some children were entranced and excited about the airplanes up in the sky; and being close to the big airport, it happened a lot. It was cute and adorable.
But everytime one of those moppets pointed up into the sky, I though about that plaintive cry. And I couldn’t help but think about the children in war zones, for whom an airplane up in the sky meant they had to dive for basements and shelters.
I admit that it is not in keeping with this blog’s general attitude. But in the course of my day-to-day, some of this came up and it inspires me to think about what music means.
“Look mummy, there’s an airplane up in the sky”