45 Years of Bricks and Genius: The Enduring Wall of Pink Floyd
Right, so here we are, 45 years since The Wall came crashing into our lives on the 30th of November, 1979. And what a wall it is. Not some simple boundary marker or a decorative feature to hang family photos on—no, this is Pink Floyd's colossal, metaphysical Great Wall of China. It hides, reveals, protects, imprisons, and occasionally collapses spectacularly, much like a certain rock star's ego during the making of it. Let’s not tiptoe around it—this is an album drenched in conflict. It’s loss, self-loathing, war, and alienation all stuffed into 26 tracks. It’s not a light bite, it’s a six-course existential crisis with a side of despair. But here’s the kicker: that very conflict is why it’s so utterly brilliant. It’s a rock opera that’s both bloated and beautiful, tyrannical and tender. The sort of thing that could only emerge from a band on the brink of implosion. The Wall came during the twilight of Pink Floyd’s imperial phase, following The Dark Side of the Moon (you k...