By 1987, Pink Floyd’s future had become deeply uncertain. Roger Waters had departed two years earlier, bringing an end to the creative partnership responsible for some of rock music’s most celebrated albums. A bitter dispute over the band’s name raised an even more fundamental question: could Pink Floyd continue without the musician who had dominated its songwriting and conceptual direction for much of the previous decade?
David Gilmour was determined to prove that it could.
Released on 7 September 1987, A Momentary Lapse of Reason marked Pink Floyd’s return after four years without a studio album. With Gilmour assuming creative leadership, Nick Mason remaining involved and Richard Wright returning to contribute to the recording, the album represented a deliberate departure from the increasingly confrontational direction of the Waters era.
Gone was the relentless political intensity of The Final Cut. In its place came expansive guitar passages, atmospheric keyboards, accessible melodies and a polished sound unmistakably shaped by the 1980s.
In many respects, the transformation was welcome. Gilmour’s expressive guitar playing once again occupied the foreground, while songs such as “Learning to Fly”, “On the Turning Away” and “Sorrow” demonstrated that Pink Floyd could still produce moments of considerable musical power.
Yet beneath the impressive production lay a less convincing collection of compositions. The lyrics frequently lacked the distinction of the band’s earlier work, several tracks struggled to develop beyond their atmospheric foundations, and the extensive involvement of outside musicians raised questions about how much of Pink Floyd’s former creative chemistry remained.
A Momentary Lapse of Reason successfully established a future for the band without Waters. Whether it represented an equally successful artistic reinvention is a more complicated question.
The Making of A Momentary Lapse of Reason
Pink Floyd Without Roger Waters
Roger Waters’ departure in 1985 followed years of growing creative tension within Pink Floyd. Having assumed an increasingly dominant role during the making of Animals, The Wall and The Final Cut, Waters believed the group had effectively reached its conclusion.
David Gilmour and Nick Mason disagreed.
For Gilmour, continuing Pink Floyd offered an opportunity to restore musical elements that had become less prominent during Waters’ final years. While The Final Cut had been constructed almost entirely around its creator’s personal and political concerns, Gilmour wanted to return to atmospheric arrangements, melodic guitar playing and compositions that allowed the instrumentation greater freedom.
However, the decision to continue was far from straightforward. Waters challenged the use of the Pink Floyd name, and legal disagreements accompanied the development and release of the new album.
The dispute inevitably attracted attention, but the more significant artistic challenge concerned the music itself. Pink Floyd’s identity had never depended upon one musician alone, even if Waters had become its principal songwriter. Gilmour now needed to establish a convincing new direction while retaining enough of the band’s distinctive character to make its continuation meaningful.
A Momentary Lapse of Reason consequently carried an unusual responsibility. It was both a new studio album and an attempt to demonstrate that Pink Floyd could exist beyond the creative partnership that had defined its most successful period.
Recording on the Astoria
Much of the album’s development took place aboard the Astoria, Gilmour’s converted houseboat recording studio on the River Thames. The project also involved several studios in London and Los Angeles, eventually bringing together an extensive collection of musicians and collaborators.
Gilmour worked closely with producer Bob Ezrin, who had previously collaborated with Pink Floyd on The Wall. Ezrin’s experience with elaborate arrangements and large-scale productions proved particularly influential, helping shape the album’s expansive, carefully layered sound.
Unlike The Final Cut, which Waters had written entirely himself, the new record involved several outside songwriters. Anthony Moore contributed lyrics to “Learning to Fly”, “The Dogs of War” and “On the Turning Away”, while Jon Carin, Phil Manzanera and Patrick Leonard received songwriting credits for their respective contributions.
These partnerships broadened the creative resources available to Gilmour, but they also reflected a significant change in the band’s working methods.
Pink Floyd’s most celebrated recordings had often emerged from the interaction of musicians with contrasting approaches. Here, much of the material was developed around Gilmour’s ideas, with additional writers and performers helping construct the finished arrangements.
The result was unmistakably shaped by his musical personality, although the collective identity that had characterised earlier Pink Floyd albums was considerably less apparent.
The Complicated Roles of Richard Wright and Nick Mason
Although Gilmour and Mason were responsible for continuing Pink Floyd, the recording process did not simply reunite the remaining musicians around a conventional band arrangement.
Richard Wright, who had left the group during the making of The Wall, returned to contribute keyboards and backing vocals. His involvement was welcome, particularly given the importance of his playing to the band’s earlier sound. The subtle harmonic textures and atmospheric passages associated with albums such as Wish You Were Here had owed much to his distinctive musical approach.
However, Wright was not formally reinstated as a full member for the original album, and his contributions were comparatively limited. Much of the keyboard work was undertaken by Gilmour, Ezrin and additional musicians, including Jon Carin.
Mason’s involvement was similarly complicated. Although he contributed drums and sound effects, the recording also relied upon outside drummers, electronic percussion and programmed rhythms.
Session musicians were hardly unfamiliar to Pink Floyd, and their presence should not automatically be regarded as a weakness. Many exceptional recordings have benefited from outside contributions.
Nevertheless, the circumstances surrounding A Momentary Lapse of Reason were unusual. Rather than capturing three established musicians working closely together, the album frequently presents Gilmour directing an elaborate production assembled from numerous performances.
The familiar Pink Floyd sound remained, but the process behind it had changed considerably.
A New Production Approach
The album’s recording embraced the technological possibilities of the late 1980s. Digital recording equipment, synthesizers, sequencers and electronic percussion occupied prominent positions alongside traditional guitars, keyboards and live instrumentation.
Additional contributors included bassist Tony Levin and a range of other instrumentalists, allowing Gilmour and Ezrin to construct arrangements that extended well beyond the capabilities of a conventional rock group.
The results were often impressive in scale. Individual instruments occupied carefully defined spaces within the recordings, while layers of keyboards and effects created the expansive atmosphere associated with Pink Floyd’s earlier work.
Yet that precision came with compromises.
Some passages feel more carefully assembled than naturally developed, and the prominent electronic textures occasionally make the music sound firmly tied to its period. Where earlier Pink Floyd recordings frequently balanced technological experimentation with unpredictable instrumental interaction, A Momentary Lapse of Reason often favours control and polish.
This approach would become one of the album’s defining characteristics, providing both some of its greatest pleasures and several of its most noticeable limitations.
The Sound of A Momentary Lapse of Reason
David Gilmour’s Guitar Takes Centre Stage
One of the album’s most welcome qualities is the renewed prominence of David Gilmour’s guitar.
Following the increasingly lyric-driven direction of Pink Floyd’s previous recordings, the music once again provides substantial room for his melodic phrasing, sustained notes and carefully constructed solos.
Gilmour’s playing has always been distinguished by its economy. Rather than relying upon technical complexity, he frequently builds tension through subtle changes in tone, expressive bends and the deliberate placement of individual notes.
That approach remains effective throughout A Momentary Lapse of Reason.
“Sorrow” provides the most striking example, opening with an immense guitar figure whose heavily reverberating notes establish an atmosphere of unease before the main arrangement develops. The instrument communicates much of the song’s emotional character, creating a sense of frustration and melancholy that extends beyond its lyrics.
“On the Turning Away” offers a different demonstration of Gilmour’s strengths. Its extended closing solo transforms a relatively restrained composition into something considerably more expansive, providing an emotional release that feels earned through the song’s gradual development.
These performances demonstrate that Gilmour remained capable of producing moments worthy of Pink Floyd’s reputation.
However, his prominence also exposes an occasional weakness in the material. Some compositions appear constructed around the expectation of a dramatic guitar passage rather than developing naturally towards one.
The solos are frequently impressive, but they cannot always compensate for melodies or arrangements that lack sufficient substance.
Synthesizers and the Sound of the 1980s
If Gilmour’s guitar provides continuity with Pink Floyd’s past, the album’s keyboards and electronic production firmly establish it within the musical landscape of the late 1980s.
Synthesizers create shimmering backgrounds, expansive textures and rhythmic patterns, contributing to a sound that is considerably brighter and more polished than much of the band’s earlier work.
This approach is particularly effective on “Signs of Life”, where environmental sounds, keyboards and gentle guitar establish a spacious, reflective atmosphere. The composition recalls Pink Floyd’s longstanding interest in using sound to create a sense of place, drawing the listener into the album before a conventional song has begun.
“Terminal Frost” similarly demonstrates the appeal of Gilmour’s instrumental approach. Its relaxed guitar melodies, prominent keyboards and saxophone passages create a smooth, almost dreamlike environment.
The difficulty is not the use of synthesizers themselves. Electronic instruments had been central to Pink Floyd’s development for years, contributing to some of the band’s most imaginative recordings.
The distinction lies in how those sounds are employed.
On earlier albums, keyboards frequently introduced unusual textures or helped compositions move in unexpected directions. Here, they are more often used to fill out arrangements, creating an impressive sense of scale without necessarily adding equivalent musical depth.
The production can sound luxurious, but its smooth surfaces occasionally obscure the difference between a genuinely compelling composition and one that depends heavily upon atmosphere.
Rhythm, Percussion and Musical Dynamics
The rhythm section also reflects the album’s contemporary production methods.
Electronic percussion, programmed patterns and tightly controlled drum sounds contribute to a precision that differs noticeably from the more relaxed interplay of earlier Pink Floyd recordings.
On “Learning to Fly”, this approach works particularly well. The steady rhythmic pulse gives the song momentum, supporting its accessible melody without overwhelming the arrangement.
“One Slip” embraces the contemporary sound even more directly, combining energetic percussion with bright electronic textures and a conventional rock structure.
Elsewhere, however, the emphasis on precision can become restrictive. Some rhythms feel rigid, leaving little room for the subtle fluctuations in pace and emphasis that once helped Pink Floyd’s longer compositions develop organically.
Nick Mason’s understated drumming had been an important part of that earlier musical identity. His ability to support extended instrumental passages without dominating them allowed the other musicians considerable freedom.
The original recording of A Momentary Lapse of Reason offers fewer opportunities to hear that interaction.
This is not an argument against technological experimentation. Pink Floyd had always embraced new recording techniques, frequently using them to remarkable effect.
The more important question is whether the technology strengthens the underlying music or simply makes it sound more elaborate.
On this album, the answer varies considerably.
Gilmour’s Vocals and Musical Identity
Gilmour’s voice provides another important connection to Pink Floyd’s past.
Its warm, restrained character had been central to some of the band’s most memorable recordings, offering a contrast to Waters’ increasingly theatrical and confrontational delivery.
On A Momentary Lapse of Reason, Gilmour assumes the principal vocal role, bringing a measured approach to material ranging from reflective ballads to more forceful rock compositions.
His performance on “Learning to Fly” is particularly effective. The relaxed delivery complements the song’s sense of movement and possibility, allowing its melody to remain the focus.
“On the Turning Away” similarly benefits from his ability to communicate sincerity without excessive theatricality.
Not every performance is equally convincing. “The Dogs of War” adopts a darker, more aggressive character, but its blues-influenced delivery can feel mannered alongside the song’s heavy-handed arrangement.
Gilmour is generally most persuasive when the material allows his natural vocal qualities to emerge. When a composition demands greater dramatic intensity, the results can be less assured.
Nevertheless, his singing gives the album a recognisable identity, ensuring that its elaborate production remains anchored by a familiar musical personality.
Themes and Lyrical Direction
Moving Beyond Roger Waters’ Conceptual Approach
For much of the 1970s and early 1980s, Roger Waters had been the principal architect of Pink Floyd’s lyrical identity.
His writing explored alienation, political authority, personal trauma and the breakdown of human relationships, frequently connecting individual songs through larger conceptual narratives.
By the time of The Final Cut, those concerns had become so dominant that the music often appeared secondary to the message.
A Momentary Lapse of Reason represented a deliberate departure from that direction. Without Waters, Gilmour was free to develop an album that placed less emphasis on an overarching narrative and more on individual compositions.
The result is a collection of songs addressing subjects as varied as personal freedom, social indifference, emotional conflict and the consequences of war.
Although certain ideas recur, they do not form a continuous story or a particularly coherent conceptual statement.
There is nothing inherently wrong with this approach. Pink Floyd’s greatest achievements were not exclusively dependent upon elaborate concepts, and a collection of individually strong songs could have provided an equally convincing foundation for the band’s new direction.
The difficulty is that the writing does not consistently possess the distinction required to make that transition successful.
Where Waters’ lyrics could occasionally become excessively direct or confrontational, Gilmour and his collaborators sometimes move too far in the opposite direction. Broad imagery and familiar sentiments frequently replace the sharply observed details that once gave Pink Floyd’s writing much of its character.
Learning to Fly: Freedom and Reinvention
“Learning to Fly” provides perhaps the clearest expression of the album’s underlying sense of renewal.
Inspired in part by Gilmour’s enthusiasm for aviation, the song uses the experience of flight to explore uncertainty, exhilaration and the possibility of moving beyond familiar limitations.
Its imagery also invites an interpretation connected to Pink Floyd’s circumstances, with Gilmour assuming responsibility for the band’s future.
The lyrics are not especially complex, nor do they need to be. Their accessible imagery suits the composition, creating a sense of optimism that contrasts with the bitterness surrounding the band’s previous album.
What makes the song effective is the relationship between its words and music. The steady rhythm establishes forward movement, while the bright keyboards and melodic guitar passages reinforce the feeling of anticipation.
The emotional appeal depends heavily upon the arrangement, but here that balance works.
“Learning to Fly” succeeds because its relatively simple message is supported by a memorable musical identity.
On the Turning Away: A Call for Compassion
“On the Turning Away” is arguably the album’s most successful attempt to address a broader social concern.
The song examines the tendency to ignore suffering, presenting indifference as a moral failure that allows injustice to continue.
Its central message is immediately understandable. Rather than retreating into personal comfort, the listener is encouraged to recognise the suffering of others.
Gilmour’s restrained vocal performance communicates genuine sincerity, while the gradual expansion of the arrangement gives the words increasing emotional weight.
Nevertheless, the lyrics occasionally approach the territory of a conventional inspirational anthem. Their emphasis on compassion and collective responsibility is admirable, but the language lacks the specificity that might have made the message more challenging.
This is where the contrast with Waters becomes revealing. His political writing frequently identified particular institutions, individuals or systems, sometimes at the expense of subtlety.
“On the Turning Away” adopts a broader, more universal approach, making its message accessible but also somewhat less incisive.
Despite that limitation, the song succeeds because its musical development gives emotional force to sentiments that might otherwise feel overly familiar.
The Dogs of War: Political Anger Without Precision
If “On the Turning Away” demonstrates the strengths of Gilmour’s more direct songwriting, “The Dogs of War” exposes some of its weaknesses.
The song addresses the relationship between conflict, money and those who profit from violence. Its subject matter would not have seemed out of place on a Waters-led Pink Floyd album, but the treatment is considerably less convincing.
Rather than developing a particular argument or examining the consequences of war through a recognisable human perspective, the lyrics rely heavily upon ominous imagery and broad accusations.
The heavy blues-influenced arrangement attempts to establish a threatening atmosphere, with prominent percussion, dramatic keyboards and forceful vocals reinforcing the seriousness of the message.
Yet there is a noticeable gap between the intensity of the presentation and the substance of the writing.
The song communicates disapproval without offering much insight into its subject, making its theatrical delivery feel disproportionate to the ideas being expressed.
For a band whose earlier work had examined violence and authority with such distinctive perspectives, “The Dogs of War” offers relatively little that feels new.
It is one of the clearest examples of the album’s tendency to mistake an imposing atmosphere for meaningful depth.
Sorrow: When Ambiguity Becomes an Advantage
“Sorrow” demonstrates how the album’s more impressionistic lyrical approach can be considerably more effective.
The song evokes a landscape marked by destruction, regret and emotional exhaustion. Rather than identifying a single event or presenting a straightforward narrative, its imagery suggests the consequences of suffering on both a personal and wider scale.
This ambiguity works because the music provides such a compelling emotional context.
Gilmour’s restrained vocal performance complements the bleak imagery without attempting to explain every detail, while the immense guitar sound establishes a mood that remains consistent throughout the composition.
Unlike “The Dogs of War”, the song does not depend upon an exaggerated declaration of seriousness. Its emotional weight emerges from the relationship between the words and the surrounding instrumentation.
The lyrics leave sufficient room for interpretation while maintaining a clear emotional direction.
“Sorrow” consequently feels more substantial than many of the album’s other compositions, demonstrating that Gilmour’s preference for atmosphere and suggestion could produce genuinely affecting results when supported by strong musical ideas.
Personal Relationships and Emotional Uncertainty
Away from its more explicitly social and political material, the album also explores personal conflict and emotional instability.
“One Slip” examines the consequences of an impulsive decision, using the language of chance and inevitability to suggest how quickly a moment of desire can alter someone’s circumstances.
Its subject is relatively straightforward, but the energetic arrangement gives the song a sense of urgency that complements its central idea.
“Yet Another Movie” adopts a darker perspective, presenting fragmented images of emotional conflict and disillusionment. Its unsettled atmosphere is effective, although the lyrical ambiguity occasionally makes it difficult to identify a compelling emotional centre.
The brief “A New Machine” passages introduce ideas of confinement, endurance and the desire for release. Their heavily processed vocals create an unusual, almost disembodied effect, but the writing remains comparatively slight.
These compositions demonstrate the album’s interest in vulnerability and uncertainty, yet they also reveal its inconsistent ability to develop those subjects beyond an initial mood or image.
The absence of Waters is not inherently responsible for that inconsistency. Gilmour and his collaborators simply had not established an equally distinctive lyrical identity of their own.
Standout Tracks and Musical Highlights
Learning to Fly: A Confident New Beginning
Few songs capture the identity of Gilmour’s Pink Floyd as effectively as “Learning to Fly”.
Released as the album’s lead single, it combines an accessible melody with the expansive instrumental textures that had long been associated with the band.
The opening immediately establishes a sense of movement. A steady rhythmic pattern supports layers of keyboards and guitar, creating an arrangement that feels purposeful without becoming overly complicated.
Unlike some of the album’s more elaborate compositions, the production serves a clearly defined song rather than attempting to disguise its limitations.
Gilmour’s vocal performance is relaxed and assured, while the melodic guitar passages provide a familiar connection to Pink Floyd’s earlier recordings.
The instrumental break, incorporating aviation-related sounds and spoken communication, reinforces the song’s central imagery without overwhelming its musical structure.
There is also something refreshing about its relative optimism. Following the emotional exhaustion of The Final Cut, “Learning to Fly” offers a noticeably different perspective, suggesting movement and possibility rather than resignation.
The song is not among Pink Floyd’s most adventurous compositions, but its straightforward construction is part of its appeal.
As an introduction to the Gilmour-led era, it remains one of the album’s most convincing achievements.
On the Turning Away: Building Towards an Emotional Release
“On the Turning Away” successfully combines a memorable melody with a genuinely satisfying musical progression.
Beginning with a restrained vocal and relatively sparse accompaniment, the song gradually expands as additional instruments enter the arrangement.
This measured development allows the music to gather momentum without losing the intimacy of its opening.
The song’s greatest achievement arrives during its extended closing guitar solo.
Rather than functioning as a brief instrumental embellishment, the solo provides the emotional release towards which the composition has been building.
Gilmour’s expressive bends and sustained notes give the passage a sense of urgency, while the supporting keyboards and rhythm section create an increasingly expansive backdrop.
The arrangement occasionally approaches the grandiosity of a conventional arena-rock anthem, particularly as the backing vocals become more prominent. Nevertheless, the underlying melody is strong enough to support the scale of the production.
“On the Turning Away” succeeds because its emotional impact develops naturally through the music rather than relying entirely upon its message.
Sorrow: The Album’s Defining Achievement
If one composition demonstrates what A Momentary Lapse of Reason could achieve at its best, it is “Sorrow”.
The song opens with an immense, heavily processed guitar figure, its sustained notes and cavernous reverberation establishing an atmosphere of tension before the rhythm section enters.
The sound is imposing without feeling unnecessarily complicated, immediately giving the composition a distinctive identity.
As the arrangement develops, Gilmour introduces a restrained vocal melody over a steady instrumental foundation. The contrast between the subdued singing and the enormous guitar sound creates a sense of unease that remains central to the performance.
Unlike several other tracks, “Sorrow” has sufficient musical substance to justify its extended running time.
Its principal guitar ideas recur throughout the composition, providing continuity while allowing the instrumentation to grow in intensity.
The closing passages are particularly impressive. Gilmour’s guitar becomes increasingly expressive, moving between melodic phrases and more aggressive playing without losing the underlying atmosphere.
What distinguishes “Sorrow” from much of the album is its sense of purpose.
The production is undeniably elaborate, but every major element contributes to the same musical direction. The guitar, vocals and supporting instruments work together to sustain an atmosphere that feels convincing from beginning to end.
It also demonstrates that Gilmour did not need Waters’ conceptual approach to create compelling extended music.
When provided with a sufficiently strong musical idea, he remained capable of producing compositions with considerable emotional weight.
“Sorrow” is not merely the album’s strongest track. It stands among the most impressive recordings of Pink Floyd’s later career, offering a glimpse of the artistic possibilities that the rest of the album only occasionally fulfils.
Yet Another Movie: A Darker, More Experimental Direction
“Yet Another Movie” is one of the album’s more intriguing compositions, partly because it avoids the straightforward accessibility of its better-known songs.
Its opening establishes an unsettled atmosphere through layered keyboards, restrained guitar and a deliberate rhythmic pulse. The arrangement develops gradually, introducing contrasting instrumental textures that create tension without immediately resolving it.
Gilmour’s subdued vocal performance allows the surrounding music to carry much of the emotional intensity, while the fragmented structure complements the song’s darker character.
The guitar work is particularly effective when it emerges from the dense instrumentation. Rather than dominating the arrangement throughout, Gilmour uses relatively brief phrases and changes in tone to provide contrast.
There are moments when the composition recalls Pink Floyd’s earlier interest in cinematic sound design, with individual sounds contributing to an atmosphere that feels larger than the song’s conventional structure.
However, its intriguing instrumental passages do not always develop into a particularly memorable musical statement.
The result is a track that rewards attention for its textures and performances without achieving the emotional or structural coherence of “Sorrow”.
Nevertheless, it provides welcome variety and demonstrates a willingness to explore darker, less immediately accessible territory.
Terminal Frost: Atmosphere Without Ambition
“Terminal Frost” offers one of the album’s clearest examples of Gilmour’s preference for instrumental atmosphere.
Built around relaxed guitar melodies, prominent keyboards and saxophone passages, the composition creates a spacious, almost dreamlike environment.
Its smooth production gives the instruments considerable room, allowing individual phrases to emerge without disrupting the overall mood.
The guitar playing is understated but effective, with Gilmour favouring melodic restraint over dramatic displays of technique. The saxophone introduces a contrasting timbre, giving the arrangement a warmth that distinguishes it from the album’s more electronic passages.
There is an undeniable appeal to the recording’s unhurried character, particularly following the darker intensity of “Yet Another Movie”.
Yet “Terminal Frost” also exposes the limitations of the album’s instrumental approach.
Where Pink Floyd’s finest extended compositions used atmosphere as the starting point for musical exploration, this piece remains relatively static. Its melodies are pleasant, but the arrangement offers few surprises or significant developments.
The polished production occasionally brings it closer to sophisticated background music than the adventurous progressive rock associated with the band’s earlier work.
That does not make it an unpleasant listen. Its relaxed character is part of its attraction, but it illustrates the difference between creating an appealing atmosphere and constructing a truly memorable instrumental composition.
One Slip: An Effective Piece of Contemporary Rock
“One Slip” is among the album’s most direct attempts to embrace the sound of mainstream 1980s rock.
Co-written by Gilmour and Phil Manzanera, the song features a prominent rhythmic foundation, bright electronic textures and a more conventional structure than many of Pink Floyd’s earlier compositions.
Its principal strength is momentum.
The arrangement moves confidently between verses and choruses, while the interplay of keyboards, percussion and guitar creates a sense of urgency that suits the material.
Gilmour’s vocal melody is memorable, and the production gives the song an immediate impact that some of the album’s slower compositions lack.
However, its contemporary character comes at a cost. The electronic percussion and glossy arrangement sound particularly tied to the period, while the songwriting offers relatively little of the individuality that distinguishes Pink Floyd’s finest work.
It is an enjoyable and competently constructed song, but not an especially remarkable one.
Within the context of the album, though, “One Slip” provides useful contrast. Its directness demonstrates that Gilmour could work effectively within a more conventional rock format, even if the results were not always as distinctive as his more atmospheric compositions.
The Smaller Compositions and Instrumental Transitions
Beyond the principal songs, several shorter pieces contribute to the album’s character.
“Signs of Life” provides an evocative opening, using environmental sounds, keyboards and gentle guitar to establish a sense of space. As an introduction, it works well, although heard independently it offers relatively little beyond its carefully constructed mood.
The two parts of “A New Machine” are considerably more unusual.
Built around Gilmour’s heavily processed vocals, they introduce an almost mechanical sense of isolation, creating a striking contrast with the surrounding instrumental passages.
Their unconventional presentation is intriguing, but the compositions themselves are slight. The effect is more memorable than the musical material.
“Round and Around”, which follows “Yet Another Movie”, also contributes to the record’s instrumental continuity before the sequence moves through “A New Machine (Part 1)”, “Terminal Frost” and “A New Machine (Part 2)”.
These passages demonstrate Gilmour’s continuing interest in constructing an album as a connected listening experience rather than simply assembling unrelated songs.
However, they also reveal a recurring limitation. Several pieces function primarily as atmospheric interludes, adding texture and continuity without offering enough musical development to justify much attention in their own right.
The album’s shorter compositions are therefore most effective when heard as part of the wider sequence rather than as independent achievements.
Where A Momentary Lapse of Reason Falls Short
When Production Overshadows Songwriting
The greatest weakness of A Momentary Lapse of Reason is not its change in musical direction, but the inconsistency of its compositions.
At its best, the album demonstrates that Gilmour remained capable of creating memorable melodies and emotionally powerful arrangements.
Elsewhere, however, the music depends too heavily upon elaborate production to compensate for relatively unremarkable songwriting.
“The Dogs of War” is particularly unconvincing, combining predictable lyrics with an exaggerated blues-influenced arrangement. “Terminal Frost” offers appealing instrumental textures but limited development, while “Yet Another Movie” contains intriguing ideas that never entirely coalesce.
These are not necessarily poor recordings. Indeed, the quality of the performances frequently makes them enjoyable.
The difficulty is that their musical foundations are not consistently substantial enough to justify the scale of their presentation.
The album’s production compounds that problem. Prominent synthesizers, electronic percussion and carefully layered arrangements occasionally create a sense of grandeur that the compositions themselves struggle to sustain.
This does not mean that the recording techniques were inherently misguided. Pink Floyd had always embraced technological experimentation, often using it to remarkable effect.
Here, however, the technology sometimes appears to be compensating for a shortage of equally compelling musical ideas.
The Missing Creative Chemistry
Another limitation is the diminished sense of collaboration.
Pink Floyd’s classic recordings were shaped by musicians with markedly different creative personalities. Waters’ conceptual ambition, Gilmour’s melodic instincts, Wright’s harmonic sensitivity and Mason’s understated rhythmic approach frequently complemented one another, even when relationships within the group were strained.
By 1987, that balance had disappeared.
Waters was absent, Wright’s participation in the original recording was limited, and Mason’s contributions were supplemented by outside musicians and programmed percussion.
Gilmour consequently became the dominant creative figure, supported by a substantial group of collaborators.
There is nothing inherently wrong with this arrangement, and several contributors delivered impressive performances.
Nevertheless, the album rarely captures the feeling of musicians collectively discovering where a composition might lead.
Instead, much of the music appears carefully assembled around Gilmour’s established strengths. His guitar playing remains unmistakable, and the atmospheric arrangements frequently recall earlier Pink Floyd recordings, but the interaction that once made those qualities so distinctive is less apparent.
At times, the result resembles a Gilmour-led project designed to sound like Pink Floyd rather than an album emerging naturally from the band’s established creative partnership.
That distinction does not invalidate its achievements, but it helps explain why familiar musical characteristics do not always produce equally familiar levels of inspiration.
Legacy and Lasting Significance
Commercial Success and Pink Floyd’s Return
Whatever its artistic shortcomings, A Momentary Lapse of Reason achieved something that had seemed increasingly uncertain following Waters’ departure: it established that Pink Floyd could remain commercially successful without him.
Released in September 1987, the album reached number three on both the UK Albums Chart and the US Billboard 200.
Its performance demonstrated that the band’s audience remained substantial, despite the absence of the musician who had dominated its songwriting during the preceding decade.
“Learning to Fly” became particularly important to the album’s success. Its accessible melody and contemporary production introduced Gilmour’s new direction to listeners who might have been less familiar with Pink Floyd’s earlier, more experimental recordings.
The accompanying music video also helped establish the band’s renewed public presence, receiving exposure on MTV during a period when visual promotion had become increasingly important to the music industry.
For Gilmour, the album’s success represented a significant vindication. Continuing Pink Floyd without Waters had been controversial, and the commercial response demonstrated that the band’s identity remained recognisable to a substantial audience.
However, its reception was more divided than its sales might suggest.
Some listeners welcomed the return of Gilmour’s guitar-driven sound and the renewed emphasis on atmospheric arrangements. Others regarded the album as a comparatively superficial recreation of Pink Floyd’s established musical characteristics.
Both perspectives contain some truth.
The album successfully restored several elements that had become less prominent during Waters’ final years, but its inconsistent songwriting and heavily polished production prevented it from consistently matching the band’s earlier achievements.
The World Tour That Re-established Pink Floyd
If the album demonstrated that Pink Floyd could continue recording without Waters, the subsequent world tour established that the band could remain a formidable live attraction.
Beginning in September 1987, the tour developed into an enormous international undertaking, continuing into 1989 and reaching audiences across several continents.
Gilmour and Mason were joined by Richard Wright and an expanded group of touring musicians, allowing the band to perform both new material and selections from its extensive catalogue.
The concerts also revived the elaborate visual presentation associated with Pink Floyd’s earlier performances. Large-scale lighting, projections and theatrical effects complemented the music, reinforcing the band’s reputation for ambitious live production.
Importantly, the tour provided an opportunity for the musicians to develop a more cohesive working relationship than had existed during the album’s recording.
Wright’s presence restored a familiar element to the band’s live sound, while Mason’s drumming contributed to performances that were less dependent upon the tightly controlled arrangements of the original studio record.
The concerts also demonstrated the enduring strength of Pink Floyd’s older material. Songs from The Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here and other celebrated albums remained central to the performances, connecting the band’s new identity with its established history.
The live album and concert film Delicate Sound of Thunder, released in 1988, documented the tour and further strengthened the band’s renewed public profile.
In retrospect, the tour arguably did more than A Momentary Lapse of Reason itself to establish the credibility of Gilmour’s Pink Floyd.
Where the studio album sometimes struggled to capture a convincing sense of collaboration, the live performances demonstrated that the musicians could still deliver powerful interpretations of the band’s music.
The album provided the reason for Pink Floyd’s return. The tour made that return feel permanent.
From A Momentary Lapse of Reason to The Division Bell
The success of the album and tour laid the foundations for Pink Floyd’s next studio release, The Division Bell (1994).
By then, the circumstances surrounding the band had changed considerably.
Richard Wright had become more fully integrated into the group’s creative activities, while Gilmour and Mason had established a working relationship capable of supporting another major recording project.
The difference is audible.
Where A Momentary Lapse of Reason was largely constructed around Gilmour and a substantial collection of outside collaborators, The Division Bell placed greater emphasis on musical interaction between the three musicians.
Its arrangements often feel more relaxed and organic, with Wright’s keyboards occupying a more prominent position alongside Gilmour’s guitar.
The later album also developed a more recognisable thematic focus, exploring communication, emotional distance and the difficulties of human relationships.
This does not mean that The Division Bell entirely escaped the weaknesses of its predecessor. Its songwriting and expansive production remain open to criticism, and neither album fully recaptures the creative intensity of Pink Floyd’s most celebrated period.
Nevertheless, the contrast is revealing.
A Momentary Lapse of Reason was primarily concerned with demonstrating that Pink Floyd could continue. The Division Bell emerged from a band that had already established its future and could approach recording with greater confidence.
Viewed together, the two albums illustrate the gradual development of Gilmour’s leadership, from the uncertain circumstances of 1987 towards a more settled collaborative identity.
The 2019 Remix: Reconsidering the Original Recording
More than three decades after its original release, A Momentary Lapse of Reason received a substantial reassessment through a revised version prepared for Pink Floyd’s The Later Years collection in 2019.
Rather than simply improving the clarity of the original recording, the project involved changes to some of its instrumental performances.
Working with engineer Andy Jackson, Gilmour oversaw a new mix that incorporated newly recorded drum parts from Nick Mason and restored some of Richard Wright’s original keyboard performances.
The intention was to establish a stronger sense of the three musicians working together, addressing aspects of the 1987 recording that had relied heavily upon outside contributors and contemporary production techniques.
The results are interesting, particularly for listeners who find the original album’s electronic percussion and highly polished arrangements distracting.
Certain passages benefit from a more natural rhythmic character, while the greater prominence of Wright’s keyboards provides a welcome connection to Pink Floyd’s earlier musical identity.
However, the revised version also raises an important question about how older recordings should be evaluated.
The 1987 album reflects the circumstances in which it was created, including the limited involvement of some band members and the production methods Gilmour and Ezrin chose to embrace.
Revisiting those decisions decades later may produce a more satisfying listening experience for some audiences, but it cannot change the artistic foundations of the original release.
The revised recording also leaves the album’s principal weakness largely untouched: its inconsistent songwriting.
A different drum performance or a more prominent keyboard arrangement can improve the character of a recording, but neither can transform an underdeveloped composition into a genuinely exceptional one.
For that reason, the 2019 remix is best understood as an alternative interpretation rather than a definitive correction.
It offers an intriguing opportunity to reconsider the music, while the original remains the clearest representation of Pink Floyd’s creative position in 1987.
Reconsidering the Album’s Place in Pink Floyd’s History
Today, A Momentary Lapse of Reason occupies an unusual position within Pink Floyd’s catalogue.
It is historically significant, commercially successful and responsible for several songs that remain important to the band’s later identity.
Without it, the subsequent world tours and eventual creation of The Division Bell might never have occurred in the same form.
Yet its musical achievements are less consistent than those circumstances might suggest.
The album’s finest moments demonstrate that Gilmour remained an exceptional guitarist and an accomplished creator of atmospheric rock music. “Sorrow”, in particular, stands as evidence that Pink Floyd could still produce powerful extended compositions without Waters.
However, much of the surrounding material lacks the distinction, imagination and sense of musical discovery that characterised the band’s strongest recordings.
This makes A Momentary Lapse of Reason an important album without necessarily making it a great one.
Its legacy is tied to two separate achievements: the music it contains and the future it made possible.
The first is uneven but occasionally excellent. The second is difficult to dispute.
Final Verdict: A Successful Comeback, but an Uneven Album
A Momentary Lapse of Reason marked the beginning of a new era for Pink Floyd, restoring David Gilmour’s guitar to the forefront and demonstrating that the band could continue without Roger Waters.
Yet beneath its historical significance lies an album whose musical achievements are considerably less consistent than its reputation might suggest.
At its best, the record captures qualities that had made Pink Floyd such a distinctive musical force. “Learning to Fly” combines an accessible melody with an expansive arrangement, “On the Turning Away” builds towards a genuinely moving conclusion, and “Sorrow” stands among Gilmour’s finest later compositions.
These performances demonstrate that his ability to create atmospheric, emotionally compelling music remained firmly intact.
Unfortunately, the surrounding material rarely maintains that standard.
The songwriting frequently lacks distinction, with several compositions depending upon elaborate production rather than memorable musical ideas. The prominent synthesizers and electronic percussion occasionally overwhelm the arrangements, while the diminished involvement of Wright and Mason in the original recording leaves much of the album without the collaborative character that once defined Pink Floyd’s sound.
There is also a noticeable difference between recreating the band’s familiar musical identity and developing it.
A Momentary Lapse of Reason successfully restores the spacious arrangements, expressive guitar passages and atmospheric textures associated with Pink Floyd, but it seldom approaches the imagination or sense of discovery that made those characteristics so remarkable in the first place.
Nevertheless, dismissing the album would overlook its genuine achievements.
Gilmour’s performances are frequently exceptional, the production contains moments of considerable beauty, and its strongest songs remain worthy additions to the band’s catalogue.
The album also deserves recognition for making Pink Floyd’s continuation possible, laying the foundations for the enormously successful world tour and the eventual creation of The Division Bell.
But historical importance should not determine artistic judgement.
A Momentary Lapse of Reason is an enjoyable and occasionally inspired record that struggles to sustain the quality of its finest moments. It proved that Pink Floyd could survive without Roger Waters, but it did not fully demonstrate that the band could recover the creative brilliance of its earlier years.
A respectable comeback, then, rather than a triumphant return to form.
Official Tune Tempest Rating: 6/10
