Milwaukee, Wisconsin, July 23, 1999 – Roger Waters returned to the old
familiarity of the arena venue for the first time in over a decade
tonight to a frenzied rush of adoration by fans new and old.  On a day
in which near-record 90-degree heat had the potential to dampen the fun,
the skies above Milwaukee opened up for a fleeting thunderstorm followed
by a deliciously cool western breeze which transformed the atmosphere
and the mood of those lingering outside the venue, waiting for the
chance to be let in at the appointed time.  Against the backdrop of an
eerily clouded sky, the crowd had arrived early; it seemed no one wanted
to miss one morsel of the visual and aural feast that was to come.

Upon walking in to the Milwaukee Auditorium, it was obvious those coming
for a sensory spectacle would not leave disappointed.  The infamous "Q"
sound system consisted of pods of speakers facing in every direction
hung from the ceiling throughout the arena.  One was positioned above
the stage.  Two large banks of speakers looking something on the order
of tower speakers on steroids were even with the stage and on either
side.  Another mass of speakers was centered directly in the middle of
the auditorium, another pair on either side lateral to the soundboard
setup (about three-quarters of the way back) and finally, one additional
bank in the rear of the studio.  In short, a system with the ability to
focus and direct sound anywhere the mixers wished.  Its potential uses
brought a huge smile to my face in anticipation of what was to come.
Roger and his crew would not disappoint.

While walking past the soundboard, clear as a bell, there it was - the
set list, posted for all to see.  I quickly scratched it down on my
notepad and marveled at the choices as it mirrored my wish list.  As the
Genie said, "you can have three wishes, if you don't take too long."  My
genie came through this night.

The crowd lingered in the aisles, some puffing away on cigarettes,
others more potent herbal blends while others sought relief from the
mundane of everyday life by imbibing on a large plastic cup of the local
brew, freshly trucked in cold from the brewery.  Everyone seemed relaxed
but there was an undercurrent of nervous tension.

The stage was set up to allow freedom of movement of all and the shadows
of the players to be splashed against the huge canopy erected behind the
stage.  No huge circle screens for projecting movies this time out.  But
in its place, something far greater.

The same lights used to "paint" the wall in Berlin were brought in and
situated above and behind the sound board and way up in the very back of
the auditorium.  Any concerns about there being enough candlepower to
light up the screen from that distance proved to be unfounded.  Never in
thirty years of concert going, including Rogers' previous solos tours
(KAOS and Pros and Cons) and all of the Floyd tours have I ever seen
anything resembling this system, which converted images onto the screen
other than in the usual television ‘streaming' manner, but rather like
the old slide projectors from the ‘60's . . . with a ‘90's
computer-controlled program that was a marvel to behold, as one picture
faded into the other . . .

Finally, the lights dimmed, the crowd roared and the band broke into IN
THE FLESH.  The lighting system kicked in and it was clear that early on
and often the limits of the sound system would be put to the test.  The
band immediately followed up with another classic from The Wall, ANOTHER
BRICK IN THE WALL (PART I).  One thing was obvious from the outset . . .
this was an eclectic mix of musicians, like a finely tuned sports team
with a mix of veterans and even a rookie named Doyle Bramhall (Jr., son
of the late drummer) taking in essence the role of a modern-day Dave
Gilmour.  He would be tested early and often and scored more often than
he stumbled; even the ‘glitches' were forgivable given that he would be
called upon to cover Dave Gilmour, Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck licks.
His vocals were strong and reminded one of the Dave Gilmour of the video
at the ruins of Pompeii.  His chops were strong, his staccato attack
hacking away at covering the essence of his predecessors while obviously
making these songs his own.  Keep an eye on this young man . . . if you
catch this tour, you'll be able to tell everybody five years from now
that "you saw him when . . ."

It would not take long for Roger to dive into the depths of his writing
and performing repertoire by slowing things down for MOTHER off of The
Wall.  With Katie Kissoon and her compatriot providing spectacular
backup and background vocals, and excelling each and every chance given
to take the lead, this would be an evening of sensual aural delight.  Is
there a finer vocalist out there than Ms. Kissoon, with as wide a range,
textual quality and depth of expression?  If so, I've never heard her.

In the background, the light show was ever-changing and perfectly timed
to coordinate with the lyrics.  Timing was the key tonight, as Roger
once again showed attention to detail by bringing together so many
different media all at once that there can no longer be any lingering
doubt as to whom is the master of this domain.  The eminent Mr. W. has
reentered the forum, killed the lion and feasted on its meat with a
delirious crowd of adoring supporters exhibiting their fanaticism by
swaying, singing along, pumping their fists and in some cases, writhing
in apparent rock ‘n roll ecstacy.  It was a community of like-minded
souls that had come together to honor their spiritual guru as he
returned to claim his rightful throne.

After the initial furious pace, Roger slowed things down with his
acoustic guitar, solo spotlight and backdrop of white crosses, as he
lamented the decision to retake the Falklands in GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS
OFF MY DESERT querying: "Maggie what have you done?" to the roars of the
crowd, closing out his review of The Final Cut with SOUTHAMPTON DOCK.

Fans of the ‘79 Pink Floyd stadium tour (including those of us at the
Milwaukee County Stadium, soon to be replaced by the ill-fated but
back-on-track Miller Park retractable dome stadium) would now have the
chance to relive that experience.  The album cover was flashed against
the backdrop, with the pig appropriately breaking free and flying off as
Roger launched into PIGS ON THE WING PART I and then an extremely
honest-to-the-original run through PIGS (THREE DIFFERENT ONES) followed
by its predecessor on the album, DOGS.

Those who venture back even further into the history of The Man and His
Music would not be disappointed, as he next entered the domain of Wish
You Were Here by lanching into an ass-kicking version of THE MACHINE
complete with sensurround audio pyrotechnics and video to match.  If you
are lucky enough to catch this tour, watch closely at the very end of
WISH YOU WERE HERE . . . there is a ghostlike image of Syd Barrett
momentarily on the screen.  Rog then abandons any pretense of having
ignored his former bandmate and one wonders, apparent onetime soulmate,
by posting a picture of a very young Syd on the backdrop and launching
into SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND (Parts IV through IX) in such a way that
it was clear to whom the tribute was intended.  A bit of a statement on
the delicate balance between the sane and those who have long since
parted company with their sane side seemed to permeate what appeared to
be his heartfelt sadness at honoring his ol' buddy.  Syd was there in
spirit this night.

Thus ended the first portion of the concert.  The crowd dashed to the
beer stand and bathrooms, and had time for both before the lights dimmed
again, heralding us back into the theater like so many sheep.

But now it was– in spite of the clouds of mixed-source smoke lingering
above the stage and crowd – time to BREATHE.  And the band breathed life
into TIME, complete with the anticipated 360-degree chiming clocks to
rock those of us slipping into a narcotized slumber into consciousness.
Damn, those things are like a slap in the face from a beautiful woman.
Hey, no harm in askin' . . . anyway anything's possible if the MONEY is
right.  And tonight it was right on the Money, with Doyle Bramhall
leading the way with his wicked cover of the Gilmour licks.  This young
man has chops!

With the familiar semi-trailer trucks splashed against the backdrop, the
boys in the band treaded briefly into the land of the Pros and Cons of
Hitchhiking with 5:06 (EVERY STRANGERS EYES), before departing to an
awesome version of THE POWERS THAT BE from Radio Kaos.

Next up would be the World Premiere of portions of Amused to Death,
curiously without the aforementioned Mr. Bramhall being allowed a shot
at the Jeff Beck licks, that duty being relegated, to a certain
disappointing degree, to Mr. Fairweather-Low and compatriot.  They never
captured the essence of Mr. Beck's screaming guitars, nor the subtlety
and essence of his controlled caressing of the six-stringed axe.  On
that point, Mr. Bramhall certainly acquitted himself nicely, donning the
role of both ace guitarist and vocalist extra ordinaire.  Have I
mentioned that this kid has talent?  As if to answer his own question,
as the chimpanzee sat and watched the TV on the screen behind the band,
WHAT GOD WANTS (Part I) is clearly . . . everything!

The segue into PERFECT SENSE (Part I) made just that to any
Kubrick-Waters conspiracy theorists and confounded their detractors, as
the voice of HAL9000 was mixed into the opening strains of this tune
from Amused to Death.  "I'm certain I'm losing memory, Dave.  Dave, I'm
not feeling well.  Dave?  Dave?  Daaaaaaaaaaave?"  Chuckling at the mix
and coincidence of standing next to my brother (Dave), I marveled at the
mixed musical metaphors this presented.

Katie Kissoon once again was highlighted and her voice rose above the
clamor to give us all yet one more musical M&M.  And when the monkey
looked up at the stars, he concluded that history is for fools . . . and
ended up as commander of a nuclear submarine.  Is it any wonder that the
monkey's confused?

Roger segued into PERFECT SENSE (Part II) with the obligatory drum roll
and piano/vocal background that allowed him to stretch his somewhat
limited vocal range to its limits.  The voice of Marv Albert introduced
the Global Anthem, which amazingly many in the audience were able to
sing, along with the piped-in choir.  The crowd delighted when the
captain blew up the oil rig, as if the Packers had scored yet another
touchdown en route to Super Bowl XXXI, returning the Lombardi Trophy
home at last at the Packers Hall of Fame in Green Bay.

And for you Bears fans, keep the faith as Roger did when he flowed
seamlessly into IT'S A MIRACLE.  You'll also need a quarterback, of
course.  Oh, and a defense wouldn't hurt!

He closed out the premiere of Amused to Death with the title song AMUSED
TO DEATH and closed the show with ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL II, which
completely rocked and sent the crowd into a hysteria which brought the
boys back on the stage for the obligatory encore.

And what an encore, with the band completing its tasks this night by
running through BRAIN DAMAGE, ECLIPSE and finishing off with COMFORTABLY
NUMB.

Morsels everywhere, something for everyone.  Satiated, but still left
wanting a bit more, we slipped quietly into the night knowing that an
honest man had finally reaped what he had sewn.

The consensus outside was clear: The King is Back.  Long Live the King!
(C) 1999, Kevin M. Kelsay