The Pink Floyd Experience - Harbourfront Theatre

The lights dim and the deep throbs of that long familiar heartbeat pound through the sound system. The snatches of voice, cash registers and ominously ticking clocks of ‘Speak to Me’ herald the start of the show. Susan leans into me and mouths, “Oh gosh I’ve got goose bumps!”

 

We are in Summerside at the Harbourfront Theatre for The Pink Floyd Experience, a respected tribute act from California. The opening track, the overture to 1973’s classic release, Dark Side of the Moon, reaches its howling crescendo and gives way to David Gilmour’s sublime slide guitar intro to ‘Breathe’. We are just two songs in and already it’s clear the band is as close to the real thing as anyone is likely to get; musicianship of the very highest standard with guitar tones, keyboards and vocals perfectly faithful to the original.

 

I spy the soft glow of a phone screen and mere seconds later the ‘camera police’ come marching down the aisle to advise the shooter he must desist. A tad harsh, I think. (It doesn't deter me from taking pics myself later.) After the cacophony of chimes explodes at the start of ‘Time’, those huge power chords slam in. The music is loud yet clear. Gilmour’s layered guitar parts are fully covered by two guitarists and that famous searing solo is note-perfect.

 

‘The Great Gig in the Sky’, starting with a quiet progression of chords over which we hear the immortal words, “I am not frightened of dying, any time will do”, sees the female backing singer step forward to deliver a breathtaking rendition of this expression of death, capturing the raw emotion, the terrifying intensity and harrowing sadness.

The album builds to its thunderous climax and every detail is rendered exquisitely, from the rich breathy tones of tenor saxophone to the studio sound effects.

Bowing graciously as the closing heartbeat pounds out, the rhythm guitarist announces a short intermission. The house lights go up and we pause for breath and take stock of our surroundings. The hall is just over half full and I note that the average age is, as to be expected, on the high side. There are faded, vintage tour t-shirts, more than a few bald heads and one rat-like thin, braided ponytail! Our position just seven rows back and slightly right of centre is perfect. Susan to my right has no one sitting in front of her and has an unobstructed view. I have an asshole on my left who chooses to shout at a friend mere inches from my ear and leaves his seat to squeeze past me three separate times during the performance. Needless to say, I gave him the stink eye!

Part two is a selection of greatest hits from the Echoes compilation, all performed with style and devotion by a band deeply steeped in the Pink Floyd back catalogue. ‘Wish You Were Here’ brings out a few swaying cigarette lighters but these are swiftly extinguished by the ‘lighter police’ who swoop on offenders without mercy.

Gus Beaudoin, close to seventy, strides around the stage in a long black trench coat and launches into the hammering bass solo in ‘One of These Days’ drawing rapturous applause. We are all on our feet for the show closer, ‘Another Brick in the Wall’, and the band links arms and bows to a tumult of applause.

Set list:
The Dark Side of the Moon (cover to cover)
- Speak to Me
- Breathe
- On the Run
- Time
- The Great Gig in the Sky
- Money
- Us and Them
- Any Colour You Like
- Brain Damage
- Eclipse

*Intermission*

Shine on You Crazy Diamond
Learning to Fly
Echoes
Have a Cigar
Wish You Were Here
One of These Days
Comfortably Numb
Run Like Hell
Another Brick in the Wall

We scurry out into the cold and jump into my car, smartly stationed in advance by the exit to the parking lot while we had eaten our Subway dinner an hour before the concert. Finally, we have a sweet fifty minute drive home during which we recall the highlights of a fantastic evening. I’m thrilled Susan was able to enjoy her first rock concert in some twenty years!



 

Bonshaw Hills Snowshoeing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After an early lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches (ridiculously early if you subtract the time change) we drove to Bonshaw Hills Provincial Park. Susan’s snowshoes have developed a tear where the bindings rub so she was on library shoes whereas I was trying out a pair newly bought from Sportchek.

 

The sporting gods smiled on Susan and gave her wonderful passage on all types of terrain whereas they frowned on me. Within minutes I knew these shoes weren’t up to the task. On the gentlest of inclines I had little grip and when the ground rose I was sliding.

 

We had selected a long route and were insistent on accomplishing it so we forged ahead regardless. Was it a smart idea to take a side trail called the Witches Way? No, it turned out to be truly evil. Ropes were strung between tree trunks to give the unsteady climber a fighting chance. Despite them I slithered and stumbled, cursing my way up a steep slope. Susan waited at the top having scampered up like a nimble young gazelle.

 

At three kilometres and seventy-five minutes in we took stock. I had been breaking trail on virgin snow for several minutes and I was getting tired, not to mention frustrated with slithering so we chose to turn around and trudge back. My feet had long since turned numb with the cold yet I could feel squishiness in my socks. I realized I had been relying on my three year old Gore-Tex boots for too long.

 

By the time we were back at the parking lot I was more than ready to jump into a warm car and head for home. Tomorrow will be returns day at Sportchek.