In 2024, Pale Wizard Records did the unthinkable. They pulled together a bunch of underground rock bands and had them each contribute a track to a 50th anniversary tribute to Sparks’ career defining ‘Kimono My House’. Since none of the bands had much in common with Ron and Russell Mael’s distinctive and visionary sound, it shouldn’t have worked. With that record, Pale Wizard managed to pull off the even more unthinkable: they not only masterminded a very different take on an old classic, but they had the balls to know it would work on its own merits.
A year on, could they achieve similar greatness by asking some of the same faces to put their own stamp on Pink Floyd fan favourite ‘Wish You Were Here’? In terms of tall orders, that’s positively gargantuan when none of the clientele come from the school of prog rock. The featured artists don’t even have a “classic” sound in most cases. Nevertheless, everyone gives the material a square go, for better or worse.
The expected drone fades in, signifying the arrival of ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts 1-5), but left in the hands of Hippie Death Cult, it’s anything but an easy trudge through the source material. Within seconds, the synth notes start to form different shapes, and the countermelody – originally supplied by keys – is shared via a choir of voices. This is rather nice: it lends an extra new age slant to a slow burning proggy tone, almost like something lifted from a Hawkwind album, circa 2022. Less enjoyable is the lead guitar work bridging the drone and the arrival of the drums. Gilmour’s dream-like flow has been reduced to a fuzzy, bluesy, almost stoner-esque reworking; something that makes the all too familiar sound a little jarring. That said, the dirtier tone really works when the arpeggios kick in, and doesn’t sit quite as uneasily once the band hit their flow and an equally dirty bass underscores everything. What this really misses, of course, is Richard Wright’s melodic sensibilities, and this becomes really obvious when the HDC are left floundering with a bluesy groove at around the six minute mark. However, much like the intro, this starts to sound better with a change of key a minute or so later, when the lead guitar rips into something a little angrier. True to form, at the point where the listener becomes acclimatised to something familiar sounding so different, the vocals arrive…and that really upsets this musical apple cart once more. A nondescript performance smoothed with filters doesn’t really work, and although some attempt has been made to address this by making things a little more interesting by adding some huge sounding backing vocals, it never really feels right. If the vocals could be seen as uneasy, then the coda of the track will definitely unnerve some, when Hippie Death Cult take the Floyd’s original riff, crank the volume and bow out with a huge stoner infused jam, sounding much less like this came from the world of a 70s prog band and more like a jam from a Ripple Music act circa 2023. This is a little uneven, but there are moments where it feels like this reworking could be onto something – and even the worse vocal moments are an improvement on the Roger Waters wounded walrus whine adopted from 1977 onwards. This is one of this tribute’s weaker links, but in some ways, Hippie Death Cult can still be commended for throwing their hat in the ring and taking on what must have been one of the album’s most difficult pieces to get “right”.
Naturally, the noisy stoner approach is a much better fit for ‘Welcome To The Machine’ since the source material is far less concerned with an easy melody. This hasn’t escaped Mos Generator, who hit upon a semi-heavy riff from the get-go. The slow, chugging groove sits well throughout the track, and some slightly aggressive blues drenched lead guitar work sounds rather impressive. The heavier drum sound which dominates is terrific but, in many ways, the track is won via its vocal performance. A duo of voices tackle a lack of melody with ease and grace; a deeper tone is shadowed by a less sure grumble, and both seem to be truly sympathetic to the source material’s dark undertones. ‘Welcome To The Machine’ was always the original album’s weak link. Here, it stands confidently as a genuine highlight.
‘Have A Cigar’ – helmed by Duskwood – makes a great feature of a heavier riff, some proto-metal soloing that sounds like something culled from an old Blue Cheer record, and even some unexpected plinking melodies that add a vaguely oriental flavour during the number’s earliest moments. What’s key here, though, is this band’s decision to do something unexpected. The original track could translate well with an almost funky swagger and Duskwood actually sound as if they’re considering that, before trudging through the familiar riff in the manner of a heavy blues, before finishing with a heavy jam that sounds like Black Sabbath circa 1972. This isn’t as much fun as the Primus version, but doesn’t feel as smug as Floyd’s original. That said, by the time these lads are done, it barely resembles ‘Have A Cigar’ at all, but it’s enjoyable for what it is and works very well as part of this bigger picture. Whether it works as a stand alone piece quite as well will certainly be up for debate.
Taking an even bigger risk, High Desert Queen transpose the title cut’s acoustic riff to a mournful bassline, switch the acoustic leads to a full bodied electric to allow for echoing, stoner blues sounds, and eventually crash into an insanely heavy riff to drive the bulk of the track. For the first verse, it’s only the core of the vocal melody that stays firm. Much like Hippie Death Cult, it’s soon obvious that these guys are going to test fan patience a little more than most, and the heaviest parts of this – admittedly very heavy – cover owe far more to works from stoner and doom record labels like Blues Funeral and Ripple as opposed to even the most marginal of underground prog. If you love a heavy riff – often for heavy riffs’ sake – you might enjoy this, but it’s not an easy listen.
Closing this revitation of ‘Wish You Were Here’, Sargeant Thunderhoof take a pleasingly dirty approach to ‘Shine On… (Parts 6-9)’. A flowing keyboard is punctuated with throbbing bass, immediately attempting to jolt the listener into life, and quickly suggests this could be a little more aggressive than most Floyd covers. As it transpires, the band’s rock background makes it a little heavier, but once the groove hits, the tougher stance really works. The pulsing bass underscores some brilliant blues rock soloing (easily the best playing on the whole of this tribute) and a really punchy drum sound gives the louder parts of the recording a pleasingly “live” quality. With a melodic vocal taking the reins for the middle of the track, there’s a feeling that the ’Hoof seem to understand Floyd a little better than some, or at least are aware that a few more sympathetic tones will offset the heavier elements rather well. During the later part of the track, grubby slide guitar notes glide against a solid stoner-ish groove, and newly applied wordless vocals help to take the track somewhere unexpected. By the time the mood is set here, it’s only a looped guitar riff creeping through the cracks that bares any resemblence to the source material. Turning the coda into a massive doom metal riff takes an even bigger liberty in some ways, but considering Hippie Death Cult’s more traditional stance came across as a little wobbly, in some ways, it’s a smart move to truly rework the material. This is certainly the best track here…and by some distance.
Realising this tribute could fall a little short at just five bands and five songs, Pale Wizard have also looked to their flock for a couple of bonus performances. Rather than get a couple of different bands to pitch different takes on ‘Wish’ tracks, a couple of other Floyd classics are brought into play. The more impressive of the two bonus cuts finds Urzah transforming ‘Meddle’ highlight ‘Fearless’ into a sludgy workout where stoner riffs are infused with hardcore edges, taking it further towards the realms of Mastodon. Musically, it’s amazing, particularly in the way the sludgier elements are underscored by busy tribal drumming, and occasionally bluesy guitar leads are left to pierce through the swamp. Vocally, it’s a different matter: the sheer force in which the lyrics are delivered will almost certainly relegate this to being only of real interest to fans of the style. Firegarden’s treatment of ‘Time’ is far more respectful, but without feeling pedestrian. There are a couple of tougher edges – particularly in the lead guitar department – but in the main, everything you love about the 1973 ‘Dark Side of The Moon’ classic is left to breathe here (no pun intended). Even the vocals adopt a more user friendly, melodic prog approach, which helps to set it apart from the bulk of the material on this disc.
As tributes go, this is definitely going to split opinion. It might even make some people angry. This is a world away from phoning Airbag man Bjorn Riis (a notable Gilmour obsessive) or Billy “I Know Everyone In Prog” Sherwood and getting the old hands to go through the motions. It’s not perfect; it’s sometimes even a little bit ugly. Such are the risks when reworking material that’s almost become a part of rock fans’ DNA. It’s sometimes interesting too, of course, and that in itself ensures it’s never a wasted opportunity. You’ll definitely discover music here that’s a little more melodic than having Graham Bonnet wail his way through ‘Dogs’ (as heard on an all-star prog and rock musicians’ tribute to Floyd’s dark and sprawling ‘Animals’), and certainly more interesting than hearing the likes of Dream Theater members trotting it out by rote. If you’re able to approach this with an adventurous ear, you should enjoy some of it. It’s never going to beat the original – only an absolute fool would make such a claim – but kudos must be given to the bands and label for recognising that every once in a while, poking a sacred cow can be fun.
August 2025