When Roger Waters lost his cool with the Pink Floyd crowd: “I’m trying to sing this song”
Many influential figures from the classic rock era are known for being cantankerous cranks, with countless infamous instances to back it up. However, no one embodies this archetype more than former Pink Floyd frontman Roger Waters. Alongside his musical genius, Waters has earned a reputation for speaking his mind, often polarising fans with his outspoken views and unapologetic candour.
While Waters has recently attracted much criticism for his politics, with the longstanding feud between him and old songwriting partner David Gilmour conflagrating once more, it’s not like him being a staunch defender of what he deems right is a new thing. Following the departure of Syd Barrett from Pink Floyd in 1968, Waters assumed the mantle of leader, and naturally, because of his outlook and influence on proceedings, their work would draw upon increasingly political themes.
Bolstering the stark and often profound nature of the themes he included in the band’s masterpieces in the 1970s, Waters would openly speak his mind in public. In the true countercultural spirit, this commitment to fighting the perceived good fight has seen him angrily criticise a myriad of people, from politicians to his fans.
Although Waters’ temper has long been known to fanatics, with it recently occurring during his fraught debate with Piers Morgan, the most notorious incident of him losing it came onstage in 1977 at Montreal’s Olympic Stadium. This was on the ‘In the Flesh’ tour for that year’s darkly political record, Animals, a lyrical departure from what came before.
During the beginning of the acoustic track ‘Pigs on the Wing’, a pair of fans set off firecrackers, which was enough to send Waters over the edge. Over the tour, he felt alienated from fans due to the large stadiums the band was playing in, with the stage seemingly further away from the enormous audiences.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Stop setting off fireworks and shouting and screaming. I’m trying to sing this song,” Waters shouted. “I mean, I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it. Fuck it. I’m sure there are a lot of people here who do want to hear it. So why don’t you just be quiet? If you want to let your fireworks off, go outside and let them off out there.”
It is also reported that Waters leaned over the side and spat at one of the rowdy revellers. Years after the incident, he would recall that in the immediate aftermath, he was shocked by his behaviour and realised that what was once a healthy exchange between the band and audience had been perverted by “corporate avarice” and scale. In his typical fashion, he even went as far as to describe the new relationship as “sadomasochistic”.
It wasn’t all a disaster, though. The Montreal outburst sowed the seeds for the last great Pink Floyd album, a record that would find particular cultural relevance given the political status quo of the era it was released in, 1979’s The Wall. The night of the Canadian flare-up, Waters spoke to producer Bob Ezrin and a psychiatrist about his feelings of alienation and intense misery. He expressed his desire to hide in isolation by building a wall across the stage between Pink Floyd and the audience. That small idea gave birth to the story of the rockstar Pink, his collapse into mania and The Wall.
