For decades now, long-suffering fans of the original band have seen The Australian Pink Floyd Show as the best route to a live relaying of their favourite prog rock anthems. With David Gilmour and Roger Waters at an impasse since the 1980s, and the latter’s controversial viewpoints becoming more prominent in his otherwise spectacular live shows, the antipodean outfit provide safe, sonically outstanding aural reproductions of some of the finest British music of all time.
Even as a teenage Floyd head back in the noughties, the Australian Pink Floyd Show was known to be the best covers band in the business. Celebrating the 50th anniversary of Wish You Were Here, the band kick off by playing the album in full, with Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts I-V)‘s long synth opening punctuated by piercing guitar the perfect slow-burn invitation to the gig. Playing the album in full, of course, means that often-neglected tracks get an airing. The dreary apocalyptic futurism of Welcome to the Machine slows things down, but the flip side of this coin is that the band also play the scuzzy blues-inspired Have a Cigar, which sounds fantastic.
The biggest cheer of the first half comes when David Domminney Fowler picks out the opening to Wish You Were Here on a 12-string. On the record, the song is preceded by radio tuning and static. Here, the giant screen projects a kangaroo flipping through TV stations – Neighbours, Kylie and Men at Work all make an appearance in one of the many Aussie references throughout, not least the giant inflatable kangaroo that bounces on the stage in a sinister manner during the interstellar freakout of One of These Days. The visuals are mostly effective, in particular the searchlight that scans the crowd in the setup to the Another Brick in the Wall medley. Several members of the mostly-older crowd are caught in the glare, popping out to use the facilities. Less effective are the seemingly AI-generated videos, which nestle very firmly in the uncanny valley. A rock star is surrounded by aliens, a baby is rocking in the womb, an old man dances down the street. As ideas they’re OK, but the creepy faux-realism of the animation is a bit offputting.
It is notable that in order to replace the impressive David Gilmour, the band have to employ two guitarists plus a vocalist. The aforementioned Domminney Fowler and Luc Ledy-Lepine do an excellent job of recreating the searing guitar work of the original, while Chris Barnes does a sterling if slightly wooden job on vocals. It is clear throughout that recreating the Floyd sound perfectly is top of the agenda, and not a single note goes wrong. This does, however, come at the expense of more spontaneous musicality and showmanship, and there is a lack of stage presence from these otherwise superb musicians. The only exception to this is when saxophonist Alex François rolls onto stage wearing a cowboy hat and shoots gun fingers into the crowd while belting out the solo during Money. The majesty of Great Gig in the Sky gives the opportunity for all three backing vocalists – Lorelei McBroom, Emily Lynn and Lara Smiles – to show off their top pipes.
There are some slightly strange track choices. The band does well to showcase latter Floyd material such as Coming Back to Life, which sounds relatively optimistic in comparison to some of Roger Waters’ darker material. However, the inclusion of the meandering Sorrow comes at the expense of early-era tracks. It would have been fantastic to hear Echoes in full, the cosmological Set the Control for the Heart of the Sun or, more playfully, Bike and See Emily Play.
These are minor quibbles though, in what is an evening of pitch-perfect Pink Floyd reproduction. With death and dispute now making the original band an effective non-entity, this really is the best way for fans to delve back into the sonic expanses of the great band.