‘Animals Reimagined: A Tribute to Pink Floyd’ (2021)

Animals Reimagined: A Tribute to Pink Floyd, somehow, manages to make a celebration of a world in which we are “fitted with collar and chain.” (And, by the way, according to Roger Waters, we’re all “really a laugh.”)

Of course, “the Lord is my shepherd” but “he maketh me to hang on hooks in high places.” Oh, and the original cover is a photo of the Battersea Power Station, that puffs pollution, conformity, a gray ignorance. Quite frankly, it’s just a big ugly building with big ugly smoke stacks.

Speaking of British rock music, the whole 1977 Pink Floyd Animals lyricism (sort of) makes Richard Thompson’s song “End of the Rainbow” worthy of a hallmark Get Well Soon card. But, speaking of British literature, Pink Floyd’s dire lamentation is certainly a glance at George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Not only that, it also conjures the spite of John Milton’s Paradise Lost, as Satan, once deposed to his dark and fiery dungeon, says “I’d rather reign in hell than serve in heaven.”



The original album was sort of like that: It was dark and venomous. Melody Maker called it “punk Floyd.” And, indeed, it’s an album that tore into rock grooves which certainly juxtaposed much of the band’s spacey history – and, perhaps, agreed with that “I hate Pink Floyd” T-shirt worn by the Sex Pistols guy, Johnny Rotten. Dave Gilmore got unleashed!

But to get all literary again, British poet William Blake redeemed Milton (in his epic of the same name) and suggested his Satan was, in truth, an energized voice of rebellion and liberty. The new multi-act Animals Reimagined: A Tribute to Pink Floyd follows Blake’s muse and contorts that dark venom into a sonic and colorful prog-rock celebration.

The forthcoming LP’s initial tune, “Pigs on the Wing,” is a brief melodic bit, but it allows Cutting Crew’s Nick van Eede a short cameo vocal. Jethro Tull legend Martin Barre also plays a dancing acoustic guitar, and both performances serve to enhance the original.

Then, the 16-minute “Dogs” stays fairly close to the original. But the guest players — Rainbow’s Graham Bonnet (vocals), UFO’s Vinnie Moore (guitar), Utopia’s Kasim Sulton (bass), Dream Theater’s Jordan Rudess (keyboards) and King Crimson’s Pat Mastelotto (drums) – like Blake’s poetry, elevate despair into glorious prog rebellion. Granted, there is no Mel Collins flute, as heard on the Wish You Were Here tribute album, but the keyboards really do infuse the song with a very different dynamic vibe. There’s a brief piano jazzy bit that’s really nice.

Truly, this music explodes with patient passion. Of course, any Pink Floyd novice should check out the actual album, but this reinterpretation is pretty cool, too.

The Animals Reimagined take on “Pigs (Three Different Ones),” again, doesn’t stray too much from the original. But, oh my, it contains the collective smolder of Dream Theater’s James LaBrie, Al Di Meola, Blue Oyster Cult’s Joe Bouchard, Patrick Moraz of Yes and Moody Blues fame, and Billy Cobham. Again, the sheer combined talent combusts into a fiery slow burn dance (especially Moraz’s keyboards!) and manages to touch the sonic purity of prog rock, circa 1973 — while working within the framework of such Pink Floyd’s late-’70s despair.

The final big tune, “Sheep,” gets the most revamp, with its funky heartbeat — before it explodes into a volcano that erupts with Arthur Brown on vocals (!), Rick Wakeman, Jan Akkerman, Bauhaus’ David J., and Vanilla Fudge’s Carmine Appice. Leave it to Arthur Brown to coil that Biblical “the Lord is my shepherd” into a wild howl. Indeed, this music is still (reimagined or not) all about any “god of hellfire.” Then, the tune pulsates into a blood rock ‘n’ roll ritual. As said, I love the original, but the Animals Reimagined version just drips with deep “in rock” vitality and gets magically weird and wonderful!

The reprise of “Pigs on a Wing,” featuring Jon Davison and Billy Sherwood from Yes, plays the album’s final confessed poker hand. Amidst all the dogs, pigs and sheep, there will always exist in the acoustic salvation of a simple song that drips with ever hopeful Floydian pessimism.

Look, the original album was a raw and ragged Pink Floyd scream that contrasted the carefully combed Wish You Were Here. And, yeah, this is a novelty record that “reimagines” dark rock ‘n’ roll times. But thankfully, all these great players puff some color into the dark musical smoke from those Battersea Power stacks.

While “occasionally glancing up through the rain,” we can still enjoy the sight of any inflatable pig as it floats through the jagged terrain of a pretty great prog-rock record.


Bill Golembeski

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